#but not really because chuck blocked him at every turn. because he still remembers how shitty he was and cant let it go

[website-com]

so obsessed with conflict where both people are right. in tv shows

[justanobsessedfangirl]

The Sound of Silence - The Maze Runner Newt Imagine

Request from @ausblack: was wondering if you could write a newt x reader where she’s like the new greenie and the only girl. Everyone think she’s mute because she never talked and Newt decides to take care of her since he’s the only one she seems comfortable with. One day another glader attacks her making her scream and for some reason Newt recognizes that it’s her, he gets protective and helps her out. Eventually she speaks her first words to him and they both get together in the end 

Masterlist

Warning: Some mature language

Author’s Note: Sorry I haven’t posted in...a while. If it helps, you can think of me as a turtle. I’m damn slow and it’s pretty frustrating to wait but I’ll get there in the end! I hope I did this idea some justice because I thought it was pretty cool. Thank you for the request, I’m always open! (just remember the turtle analogy.) 

:)

Word Count: 3.6k

You stood in darkness. There was nothing in the darkness except for a quiet hum that rumbled the floor and the walls and the ceiling. It was power, some type of power that was running through this room and making it rise.

You stood in darkness. And you waited.

You weren’t alone, because your fear was so strong it had formed an icy hand, which wrapped around your throat, so tight it was hard to breathe. It took every ounce of your concentration to inhale, and exhale, and inhale again, and all the while the box hummed and rose, and you stood in darkness.

The hum cut off abruptly, the room halting with it. You strained your ears, and, through the loud beating of your heart, you could hear voices. Four heartbeats passed before the roof opened and the room was flooded with light.

You cringed away, raising a hand to block the brightness. Through squinted eyes, you saw boys encircling the room, level with where the roof would have been. Their voices floated down, gasps and shouts of “It’s a girl!”, and the sounds of shoving, bodies against bodies.

You took a step back, but there were boys above you there too. They were everywhere. One jumped down, making the whole box shake, and then you were turning around and around, looking for a break in the boys, a spot you could run through, someone to help, anything, anything, anything--

“It’s alright, love. We’re not going to hurt you.”

You whipped around to face the boy. He had his hands raised, and his eyebrows were knit together in sympathy. He had a kind face, with soft brown eyes.

Even so, any words you had were caught in your throat, caught by fear’s hand, trapped. Trapped, just like you. Your breaths came faster, your heartbeat quicker. Your hands trembled.

Across from you, the boy took a step back and looked up at the others. “Right, all you bloody slintheads need to back up!” He looked at one of the boys closest to the box. “Alby?”

The boy, Alby, nodded, then shouted, “Everyone, back to work!”

The crowd didn’t move. Your heart stopped. Your blood went cold.

Then, with a chorus of grumblings, the mob slowly dispersed. Boys peeled off this way and that, revealing grassy fields and large mountains in the distance. You peered closer. No, not mountains. 

Walls.

“It’s a strange story, love, but we’ll tell you all of it,” the first boy said. 

You couldn’t take your eyes off of the walls.

“I’m Newt. D’you remember your name?”

No. You’d realized in the darkness that you couldn’t remember anything. You felt strangely detached, like you were watching some other girl with no memories who was abducted and brought to a strange place. You felt pity for her. You felt sad for her. And you kept drifting along, only half-listening to the boy next to her, the one who said his name was Newt.

Newt stepped closer. You watched the girl watch him, watched his mouth move, watched the girl take light, careful steps to the edge of the box and climb out. You watched her stumble.

It was the feeling of Newt’s hand on your back, steadying you, that brought you back to reality.

“I’ll take you on the tour, love,” he said to you, pulling his hand back. In a soft voice, he added, “Don’t worry. You’re safe here.”

Your lips parted. Words sat on the tip of your tongue. Are you sure and How do you know and Please be right. And, also, lingering in the back, Thank you.

You swallowed and looked away from Newt.

He started walking. He kept a slow pace, both because of his limp and so he could intermittently point out buildings and people. “That’s Frypan, he’s the cook, and there’s the kitchen. Next to that’s the Homestead. You’ll be sleeping there.”

He spoke with such authority that you wanted to ask what his role in this little society was. If there was a cook, there must be a leader, and you hadn’t seen any adults around. But your tongue wouldn’t move, so all you could do was tilt your head to the side and look at Newt.

He scanned your face, then nodded. “I’m Second-in-Command. Alby’s in charge, but he won’t raise a fuss about you sleeping in the Homestead. We…” Newt ran a hand through his dirty blond hair before making eye contact again. “We haven’t…” He sighed. “You’re the only girl here. We don’t really know how the rest of those shanks will react.” Noticing your instinctive recoil, Newt hastened to say, “But you’ll be okay. Most of these lot are good guys. And the ones that aren’t...Well, they know the consequences. We won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

There was that fear again, running its hands along your arms, past your shoulders, to your neck. It squeezed painfully around your throat, so painfully that tears threatened to spring up in your eyes. You gave Newt a quick nod and looked away, into the fields he was leading you toward.

He read you like a book and quickly switched topics. “These are the Gardens. When I don’t have other duties, I like to come out here. It’s good work, but it’s also just a good place to be. It’s peaceful.” 

A short, round boy darted out of a row of tomato plants, cackling madly. Lumbering behind him was a tall boy with a shock of curly blond hair, who shouted, “Come back here, Chuck!” The younger boy, Chuck, gave no indication that he’d heard. He disappeared back into the plants, with the tall boy following him.

Newt sighed. “It’s mostly bloody peaceful,” he grumbled.

The smallest of smiles twitched your lips up. You forced them back down, reminding yourself that you were scared, that you couldn’t trust anyone here, and that the way Newt grinned down at you did not make you feel safe.

“We’ll have you start working here tomorrow, all right, love?” Newt asked.

You chewed on your lip, staring over the plants. Your eyes landed on the tomatoes, right where the boisterous duo had gone through. Flutters of anxiety filled your stomach.

“I’ll be with you. There won’t be anything to worry about.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Besides waking up with no memory, that is,” Newt added.

Your lips betrayed you again. Newt grinned, and the butterflies that had been flying inside your chest slowly started to settle down.

Newt led you through the rest of the Glade. You saw the Deadheads and the Blood House, learned about the various jobs and Keepers, and, through it all, you didn’t say a single word. Newt never pushed you. Instead, he watched for facial expressions. He responded to any tap on the arm or flick of your chin. He lingered in the comfortable silences.

As you sat in your room in the Homestead that night, knowing that Newt was asleep in the next room over, you felt your shoulders loosen, just a little. The fear was still there. It still held your throat tightly in its grasp. But you felt a trickle of hope springing in the cracks.

You woke the next morning to a knock on your door. Opening it, you saw Newt.

“Ready to get to work, love?”

You nodded. The smile you gave him was uneasy and weak, nervous and gone in a flash, but it made Newt’s eyes shine with happiness. He smiled the whole way to the Gardens. Under the shining sun, you weeded plants, hoed new rows, and picked vegetables.

Newt stuck by your side. He explained more about the Glade; all you had to do was point to a person or a place and he’d run through it, even if he’d already explained the other day. A few times, you found yourself picking out things you already knew, just so you could keep hearing his voice.

“And then Chuck convinced Minho and Thomas,” Newt said between laughs. Behind him, the sun sat heavy on the horizon, haloing him in gold. “He convinced Minho and Thomas to take the rest of Gally’s clothes and--” Newt broke off, devolving into laughter.

You hadn’t met Minho and Thomas yet -- they’d been busy in the Maze all day yesterday and in the Runner’s Hut all last night -- but you’d heard a lot about them from Newt by now. You’d also heard about “Captain” Gally, and you figured he probably deserved whatever ended up happening to his clothes.

Beneath the cover of Newt’s voice, you felt comfortable letting out a small laugh. It was the first noise you’d made in the Glade.

Slowly, Newt’s laughter stopped. He stared at you, eyes soft, his lips pulled up in a small, pleased smile. He didn’t say anything.

You looked down at the basket in your hands, trying to stop yourself from blushing.

After a second, Newt said, “Before we go to dinner, there’s one last place I want to show you.” He took the basket from you and handed it off to Zart, the Keeper of the Gardens.

The pair of you headed off towards the far wall, away from the buggy Gardens, the dark woods, and the noisy kitchen, where a hungry horde of Gladers clamored to get their dinner.

“It’s not one of the really important places,” Newt said as you walked, “so I didn’t show it to you yesterday.” His hands swung awkwardly at his sides, as though he wanted to reach one out, maybe to guide you, maybe to hold you, but couldn’t decide whether he should or not. You couldn’t decide whether you wanted him to or not.

All you did was nod.

Newt continued, “But I think, maybe, it could be good.”

As you neared the wall, you felt your stomach drop at the sheer size. You craned your head back and back and back, trying to see the top, trying to see if any ivy led all the way up. How could there ever be a way out of those walls?

A warm hand touched your arm.

Your head shot back down, eyes landing on Newt’s. The faintest pink burned on his cheeks, a glow from the sunset, maybe, or... You shook the thought out of your mind as he pointed to the wall.

Carved into the wall in front of you were names. Immediately, your gaze landed on Newt’s. Next to his, Alby’s name was done in blocky letters. Thomas and Minho had made their marks. Chuck’s name was squeezed between the two, as he often was in real life, when he’d inject himself into their days. You recognized enough names to figure out that every Glader had been here once and had left a permanent memento of themselves. Some of those mementos, like the ones with a single sharp line running through them, had already outlasted their creators.

“I thought, I don’t know...I thought maybe seeing other names would help you remember yours.” Newt rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at the ground. 

Your heart felt warm in your chest. Yearning took over. You reached a hand out, tracing the closest names, looping through the letters, dotting the i’s, crossing the t’s. You wanted to remember.

Please remember. Remember for Newt. Remember for me.

You pulled your hand away and pointed to Newt’s side, where his knife was strapped. He unsheathed it out without a moment’s hesitation. When he handed it to you, his fingers brushed over yours and you could swear your heart stopped. You had to fight to keep your composure, especially with the feeling of his intense stare as he watched you carve the first letter of your name into the wall.

You felt, rather than saw, Newt step closer to you. Glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, his smile almost took the breath out of you. Your hand stilled as you finished the first letter.

Newt repeated it, sounding almost awed. “Keep going, love.”

Forcing your eyes away from him, you continued carving. Each letter of your name was done with precision, right below Newt’s. It felt fitting to do it there, like he was some guardian angel looking over you, keeping you safe. Being around him made you feel...the English language wasn’t sophisticated enough to describe it. You felt warm. And calm. And the kind of happiness that made your cheeks hurt and your jaw ache, even when you weren’t smiling.

When you finished, Newt said your name, his voice reverent. “Y/N.” He repeated it. He glanced down at you. “Am I saying it right, love?”

He’d gotten closer than you’d thought. His breath nearly hit the tips of your eyelashes. If you moved only a few inches you’d be touching him.

You nodded.

“Can I ask you something?”

You nodded again. He was so close you felt dizzy. You would’ve agreed to just about anything he said at that point.

“Are you able to speak?”

Your nod was more hesitant this time, slowed by dread for his next question.

“Why don’t you?”

You wanted to look away but his eyes had a hypnotic hold on you. You shrugged half-heartedly. How could you explain that every time you tried to speak your throat closed up? That your mouth went dry and you forgot every word you knew? That your heart started beating erratically, and your palms began to sweat, and it felt like walls were closing in, and you felt the fear again?

Newt nodded. He took a step back, the tension in the air dissolving. Jutting his chin at the wall, he said your name again. A smile crept onto his face. It was that soft, sweet smile that had gotten you through your first days in the Glade.

It got you through the next week, too. A week spent trying other jobs, where your lack of communication proved rage-inducing for a certain captain and ultimately landed you back in the Gardens.

It was rare that Newt wasn’t by your side. Today, though, he and Alby were caught up in meetings with the other Keepers, trying to figure out how to discipline a Glader who’d been making inappropriate comments and trying to instigate fights.

Newt had told you the basics the other day. You hadn’t wanted him to go into detail. He’d seen that on your face and quickly switched to telling you about the first crops they’d tried to plant, which had been such a disaster that the Creators sent up multiple books on farming the next month. The conversation was much lighter from then on.

Being with Newt was so easy. Most of the others pushed you too hard to talk, which only made your throat dry up and your tongue feel like lead. You wanted to talk with them, sometimes, but...you couldn’t get the words out. You couldn’t think of them when it came time to speak. You had a mental block, barricades set up to keep you from feeling too comfortable here. Part of you needed to feel the fear that came with trying to speak. If you stopped being afraid, you’d start getting complacent.

The sound of the Walls grating to a close struck the same feeling in you, even though you were safe in the Gardens, well away from the terrors of the Maze.

“Y/N.” Zart’s voice broke you out of your thoughts. “Good job today. Some of the other shanks left a bunch of tools out, could you bring them to the shed? I have to track down Chuck.” His normally placid expression morphed into a scowl as he shook his head, his blond mop of hair flopping over his forehead.

You nodded. The two of you split off among the rows, Zart’s cursing fading as you approached a scattering of trowels and rakes.

You pursed your lips in disappointment before stooping down and trying to gather everything. You ended up with two rakes and a hoe tucked under your right arm, a few trowels held close to your chest, and a sharp hand pruner held carefully in your left hand.

Boys.

You huffed as you headed for the shed. It was a crudely constructed building that was made in the first few weeks of the Glade’s existence. You’d heard some other boys say that the first Gladers originally slept here, but Newt hadn’t mentioned it so you weren’t sure how true that was. If they had slept there, you didn’t envy them. It was smaller than your room in the Homestead, which was a far cry from large. You supposed it was in a nice enough location, though; it stood on the edge of the Gardens, close enough to the woods to catch some shade, but not so deep that you were alone.

As you neared the shed, you saw that you actually weren’t alone. A figure paced next to it, head bent low, features hard to make out.

You purposely tried to walk louder as you came closer, hoping you wouldn’t scare him. At the sound of a twig crunching under your foot, his head shot up.

You’d definitely seen him before; he had thick, dark eyebrows and a strong jaw. The bruise forming under one of his eyes was new, as was his now crooked nose. You were pretty sure his name was Connor.

“Y/N,” he said, stilling in his tracks. He made no move to help you carry the tools.

You nodded, gave him a tight smile, and headed for the door. One of the rakes almost slipped from under your arm, but you squeezed it tightly and took a few hurried steps.

Connor crossed in front of you. You veered to the side. His arm shot out and grabbed your shoulder, hard enough to jostle it and send the rakes and hoe tumbling to the ground.

“You think you’re better than me or something?” He was speaking quickly, too quickly, you didn’t have a chance to respond or adjust the trowels that were slipping through your grasp or push him away. In one quick movement, he turned and slammed you into the shed wall. Two trowels dropped. You clutched the rest closer, your breaths turning into nervous pants.

“Is that why you don’t talk? You think you’re better than me? Than us?” Conor loomed over you. He glowered at you, his eyes afire with rage. “Answer me.” He slammed you back again. Your head cracked into the wall and you let out a soft whimper.

“So you can talk.” His grip was vice-like on your shoulders. His nails dug into your flesh like he wanted to tear you apart. “So why don’t you talk? Why don’t you fucking talk?” Again, he slammed you into the wall.

Were you crying? Were you talking? Were you making any noise at all?

Were you even breathing?

“You make this place even harder to be in. We don’t need some fucking mysterious mute bitch when we have to solve the Maze. Don’t you get it? You’re a distraction!” Every few words were punctuated with a slam. The air whooshed out of your lungs in a pathetic cry for help.

You’d never tried harder to talk.

But now there was so much fear in you. Not existential fear -- real, in-your-face danger.

One of Connor’s hands released your shoulder. It ached in relief until his fingers wrapped around your throat and he leaned in close to say, “Fine. Don’t talk.” And he squeezed.

Each second was an eon. Your lungs screamed for air. Blackness lingered on the edges of your vision, closing in, closing in, closing in, leaving only a pinprick of light. Your legs went numb, as if they’d just fallen asleep, and the feeling worked its way up your body, down your arms, to your hands, where the last trowel and the hand pruner were about to fall.

Hand pruner.

You had no more air, you had no more energy, and yet your body was moving and you were thrusting the sharp end of the hand pruner into Connor’s gut.

He let you go with a cry, curling over and holding his stomach. Air rushed into your lungs, only to leave a second later as you screamed, “Help!”

Connor groaned and straightened up enough to launch a clumsy fist at you. You twisted to the side. Your foot caught on a gardening tool, sending you sprawling to the ground, clambering away on hands and knees, still gasping for air.

A wet hand grabbed your ankle. You kicked, connecting with something solid, and yelled out, “Someone help!” The hand left your ankle for a second, then you heard something heavy moving in the grass, and the hand clamped down on your calf.

You tried to wriggle away. People were coming from the Gardens, you could see their black silhouettes as the sun set behind them. You heard your name, shouted by your rescuers and growled by Connor. You kicked at him again. His other hand caught your foot, using you to pull his body further onto your legs.

He was heavy. He slammed a fist into your back, knocking you flat.

“Get off of her!” Your rescuers closed in. They wrenched Connor off and surrounded him. Warm hands, soft hands, gentle hands, helped you stand. Connor’s blood rolled down the backs of your legs.

“Are you okay?” Newt asked, his voice frantic. He held you, his touch like feathers on your arms, as he scanned your body up and down, looking for any injuries. “Is that--” he started to ask, staring at your legs. Mid-sentence, Newt turned away, calling for a Med-jack.

“It’s not mine,” you interrupted him. The words were hoarse and quiet but audible, and Newt whipped back around to face you, eyebrows raised in surprise.

His touch slid down your arms, his hands enveloping your own. “I knew that was you yelling,” he said. His eyebrows lowered and his face grew serious. “I knew it was your voice. I knew it was you, love.”

Words hung on the tip of your tongue. Words you’d meant to say your first day in the Glade. Words you’d wanted to say every day since. Words that you could never get out. “Thank you,” you finally said.

Newt smiled, so wide and so bright that your heart started beating like you were sprinting. “I’ll always be here for you, love.”

The distance between the two of you was quickly fading. “I know you will,” you said, and then, again, “Thank you.” A second later, your lips met. And you felt like thanking him all over again.

[pars-ley]

hi! i just came across your page the other day and i’ve read all of your drabbles and stories multiple times lol! so for my ask, i would love it if you did a college AU with popularjock!jk and have it be similar to the movie ‘A Cinderella Story’. some angst with smut and a happy ending if possible! oh and bestfriendjimin! as well :) hope this is not too much to request! ily

At the stroke of Midnight

Pairing: Jungkook x f reader

Summary: One popular boy + One 'uncool' girl + One school dance + One necklace left behind = A cinderella story.

Genre: Angst / Fluff / Smut / Cinderella au / A Cinderella story au / comedy / popular jock jungkook / best friend Jimin

Warnings: Suggestive language / sex 

Rating: 18+ (NSFW)

Word Count: 4k

Beta reader: @casuallyimagining

A/N: I am so sorry this has taken me so long! I had no clue about this film, so writing this entailed some research and me watching the movie...twice haha. I really hope I did it justice for you and you enjoy it. Thank you for the request!

"So, what's prince charming saying now that's so much more important than your best friend?" Jimin pouts, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly.

You flush slightly. "He wants to meet." Grimacing at the words.

"And that's a problem, why?" 

You bury your head in your hands. "Because I'm me and I'm certainly no one special, what if he's disappointed?" You groan, the dilemma churning your gut and making you feel like your breakfast could make a second appearance.

"Hey," Jimin scoots closer to you along the bench and throws an arm around your shoulder. "No best friend of mine gets away with speaking about herself like that. You are lovely, and if he thinks you're anything other than amazing, there's something wrong with him and he needs to be studied in a lab." 

You laugh in spite of yourself, hearing Jimin’s words rattle around in your brain, knowing that you should not be this hard on yourself. You lean into his snug embrace.

You open up Tumblr and stare at the conversation between you and @gameoverguk. Your favourite gaming blog you’ve followed for ages, by chance seeing your gaming fan art and following you back was one thing, but conversing with him and finding out that he also attended your school was a completely different matter. Trying to solve the equation of who this mysterious creator might be is harder than you thought. And the way he converses with you, so open and honest and sweet, that had to narrow it down surely?

Something slams into your back, pain immediately in its wake. You and Jimin turn to see the popular boy of your university, Jungkook, gawking at you and his best friend Taehyung in hysterics. 

Jimin looks down in the grass behind you at the offending apple and calls, “Hey, watch it guys.”

“Really sorry!” Jungkook calls over, a slight dusting of scarlet across his cheeks but looks like he’s also fighting a laugh. It burns you how someone so smug can still be so handsome, and you hate yourself for even thinking about him in any way other than the airhead jock that he is. 

Taehyung jogs over and picks it up, still somewhat amused. “What, didn’t your crystal ball tell you that was gonna happen?” He says to you, loud enough for everyone in a mile radius to hear.

You cringe inwardly, attempting to fight your embarrassment.

“Aren’t you supposed to be one of the top athletes in this university? And you can’t even catch an apple.” Jimin snarks in your defense.

His face drops as he looks like he’s about to take a step towards you both.

“Tae!” Jungkook calls, an air of command in his voice, breaking the tense air as he looks away from you ruefully. Walking off with Taehyung following, eating his apple and laughing between bites.

“Ignore them.” Jimin says sternly. “Speaking of, are you working tonight?”

Your face falls into an unamused expression, as if he even had to ask.

You were working so much you were almost taking residence at your step-mums 'magic shop', as everyone called it.

He smiles at you, his nose wrinkling, and you can’t help your face softening.

“Ok, ok, my bad. Can I swing by later? I need some more incense.”

You shrug, grabbing your bag and chucking it over your shoulder. “Sure. I’d be glad of the company to be honest.”

“Ooooh, maybe we could do a seance?” 

You glare at him and head off to class causing his melodious laugh to ring out around you.

Sitting in the bleachers after class, with your sketchpad and pencil, the perfect view of the city line and the departing sun staring back at you, you sketch away. The pencil etching fast across your paper as you manage to block out the sounds of the team practicing and their bodies crashing against each other.

Long after you've lost yourself in your landscape, fingers grey and shiny from shading, you neglect to hear some of the team members leaving, climbing over the seats and headed in your direction. That is until your pad is snatched from underneath you as you frantically grapple for it, without success.

"You know, this isn't where the nerds hang out." Taehyung smirks at his two other buddies, clearly impressed with himself.

You let out a bored sigh. "Oh I'm sorry, I didn't realize you owned the bleachers." Your words drip with sarcasm. 

His face drops and a mean glare spreads across his features as he throws your drawing pad in the air. You watch helplessly as the pages flutter in the wind as it flies away and disappears under the stands. 

"Have a nice night." He says quietly, an attempt to be intimidating, as him and his friends leave.

Your veins alight with fury, hands balled into fists at your sides. You wanted to stamp your feet like a petulant child. This isn't fair. Why you?

It's only then you notice Jeon Jungkook standing on the field watching. Embarrassment suddenly extinguishes your angry flames as he breaks your gaze first, walking off under the bleachers. You grab your bag to leave for work before you suffer any more humiliation.

As you reach the last step you yelp with surprise as Jungkook appears suddenly in your view, you manage to steel yourself before tumbling into him.

You stare at him, wishing he'd get on with it and tease you so you can go...but it doesn't come. Instead he hands you your sketchpad, gently dusting off the pages.

You take it, a hesitant, "thanks," ghosts from your lips.

"I'm sorry about him." He says quietly.

You shrug. "Not your fault, I guess."

Seconds tick by as you both stare awkwardly at each other, unsure what else could be said.

"You're pretty. I-I mean, it-it's pretty." He stammers, tapping the unfinished sketch in your book. "You're very talented." 

Your cheeks flush an undignified fuchsia as you duck your head slightly, letting your hair hide you. "Thank you."

He offers you a weak smile before giving you a halfhearted wave and jogging off across the field, leaving you watching his back, perplexed at the exchange you've had.

You stare at your messages, every moment he can see you're online and not replying makes your cheeks flush crimson and makes your mind run frantic.

Meet me at the Happy Holidays dance.

Could you?

It’s the first holiday dance your university has put on--one you had no intention of going to, because you frankly didn't need the added teasing from the popular kids. It is a masquerade ball however, so no one had to know it was you, you could fall pleasantly under the radar.

Were you really considering this? 

What did you have to lose? You can hide behind the comfort of your mask. If he discovers it's you, it's his problem if he doesn't like that, Jimin is absolutely right.

Ok. Where will I find you?

You press send and chuck your phone down, throwing your head in your pillow to scream. Did you actually just do that!? No taking it back now, it's out there. 

When you hear your text tone sound you scramble quickly back to it.

By the old sundial outside. At 10.00?

You grin dorkishly at your phone, typing a quick reply.

Sure. See you then.

You call your number one speed dial, two rings in and Jimin's voice sounds. 

"I was just going to call you, how strange. Listen, do you remember that time I-?"

"I'm in need of some urgent assistance. I just agreed to go to the holiday dance!"

He cackles excitedly on the other end. "I'll be right over!"

As you step out of Jimin's car you have to lift your ice blue dress up to avoid the floor...and tripping. How Jimin pulled this costume together in time, you'll never know, he's taking that secret to the grave. 

You swallow the nervous lump in your throat and adjust your matching lace mask, making sure it's comfortable.

"Ok, go get him tiger." He roars, as he swipes a clawed hand in front of you.

You giggle at his silly antics and take a deep breath before giving him a final nod and heading into the dance.

From the moment you walk in, you want to go home. This is a bad idea. He won't be interested when he finds out it's really you.

You have no time to continue your anguished thoughts as you get swept up in the crowd, fighting your way through to grab a drink. Standing to the side and surveying everyone's costumes, noticing a lot of dark or bright colour choices, you being one of the only people in a pale colour, making you stand out more. Something you were definitely hoping to avoid.

A few songs later and the clock in the hall catches your eye, noticing you had fifteen minutes until you meet your mystery man.

You head outside, footsteps echoing along the cobbled floor, and see that the outside is empty save for a few smoking and talking. 

You get to the large, metal sundial and wait. Stomach churning from the butterflies that swarm wildly inside. 

"Blue hour artist?" You hear your Tumblr tag spoken behind you and freeze. 

You're about to meet him, come face to face with the person who understands you more than anyone, who opens up to you in ways most people wouldn't and who's creativity knows no bounds.

You turn slowly, not knowing who to expect but definitely not who you're faced with.

"Jeon Jungkook!? You're 'game over guk'?" You ask, your mouth popped open in shock.

He smiles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, "that's not fair, you're wearing a mask. How will I know who you are?" 

You stare at him, trying to find words to answer his question, but the fact that it's him stood before you blows you away.

How could this be? The person you've been talking to online is the complete opposite to Jungkook and yet, here he is, one and the same.

"You'll h-have to guess." You try to get yourself together.

His mouth stretches into a toothy smile. "Ok, how about we play '21 questions' to help me guess?"

You nod, playing with your fingernails out of nerves.

"Do you want to sit down?" He asks, looking over at one of the benches.

"Um, no, I'd rather walk, if you don't mind?" 

"Oh, sure." He agrees eagerly and you head off down the pathway around the building. 

A few awkward side glances between the two of you and he finally asks, "Do we have any classes together?"

"No." 

"Ok, narrows it down slightly."

You take this opportunity to look at what he's wearing and he's every part the Prince charming. In a white satin shirt, with light blue trousers and a one shoulder half capelet to match, complete with silver, trim detail. Surprisingly similar to your choice of dress, what a strange coincidence.

"You take art I assume?" He asks, into the comfortable silence.

You nod. "That's an obvious one." You refer to your Tumblr page full of your fan art and projects.

He smiles bashfully and your stomach flips at the sight, feeling like a true-life Disney princess with heart eyes and birds singing above your head.

"I don't know many girls in art." He admits,

 "Ok, what about outside uni, do you go to any popular hangouts?"

Your cheeks flush, knowing you're admitting how dorky and uncool you are. "Nope."

"Ok, harder than I thought." He laughs, revealing his perfect teeth again. "Do you have a job?"

Nodding again, you play with the hem of your lace sleeve, channeling your nerves into the action.

As you're about to answer, your heel gets stuck in between the paving stone, causing you to buckle. Panic strikes you. You cannot fall over and embarrass yourself! Not when finding out who you are will be embarrassing enough. Luckily, you steady yourself against a nearby lamppost before falling on your face but at the cost of leaving your shoe stuck in the ground.

You tuck your leg up under your dress, steadying yourself against the street light, directly underneath the assaulting brightness, illuminating you like a spotlight.

Jungkook rushes over to your lonesome blue stiletto and retrieves it before crouching on one knee in front of you.

You stare at him, eyes wide and alarmed by his sudden closeness as he holds out your shoe in the most sincere way.

You bring your foot down and arch it back into its rightful holster. As you do, his fingertips graze your ankle, sending a flush of heat cascading up your body and neck, stopping only at your hairline. 

He lingers there, looking up at you with huge doe eyes, but with a severe intensity you've never noticed from him before. 

His fingers skate up your leg slightly as he rises, sending a delicious shiver through you. His fingers tips hint at your hand, you yearn to reach out and hold it, as he stands mere centimeters away from you. His intoxicating scent swirling around you like your own personal hurricane, taking your composed state and tearing through it, leaving it whimpering weakly on the ground. His face is too close to yours and yet not close enough. You feel feverish from his proximity and yet you need him closer to sate your heat.

Your breast vibrates from the aggressive pounding of your heart. Having him here on his knees in front of you, something not even acceptable in your wildest dreams and yet, here he is. 

The person you've gotten to know so well, such a contrast to the person you've seen around campus. But then again, he seems to like the person he's gotten to know too, maybe he won't be as disappointed when he realises who you are? Maybe you can kid yourself into thinking that.

A chiming sounds in the distance, barely there and yet it creeps further into your subconscious.

"Your phone is ringing." He whispers, his breath tickling your face, as his eyes still blaze into yours.

'My phone. My phone? Oh, my phone!' Your muddled thoughts clear themselves enough for you to understand his words. You pull it out of your little silver handbag and see Jimin's number on screen.

"Hello?" You ask, staring dreamily at Jungkook who is rooted firmly in his spot.

"Ok, I apologise if you're throat-deep around prince charming’s dick but I really need to make it home before midnight so my dad doesn't turn me into a pumpkin...and by that I mean, pounded, pulped and pressed into pumpkin pie." 

You snap out of it suddenly, realising Jimin's words and not wanting him to get in trouble because of you. "Of course. I'm coming, right now."

Jungkook's eyes flit back to reality with a deep frown. His hand clasps yours as you hang up and tuck your phone back into your bag. Your legs, already moving towards the front entrance where he would be waiting.

"Wait," Jungkook's pleading pierces right into your chest, feeling your resolve bubble up to the surface, enticing you to stay and see where the night takes you. But you don't.

"I can't, I have to go." You say, gently slipping your hand from his and jogging elegantly to the front parking lot.

When you see Jimin's dads silver Rolls Royce, you're suddenly eager to get in and share your news.

"So...did you meet him!?" An excited Jimin shakes your arm as you close the door behind you.

"Yes. You will never guess who he is." You fasten your belt and Jimin pulls off quickly, both of you wincing as he narrowly misses a barrier post on the way out of the campus.

"Who?" 

You smile to yourself, heart fit to burst. "Jeon Jungkook."

Jimin's foot taps on the brakes, lurching you forward.

"I'm sorry. What?" He turns to you, eyes wider than you've ever seen them. "As in, popular boy, sex god Jungkook?"

You scoff. "Who told you he was a sex god?"

"I'm making assumptions. I'm sure you'll find out soon enough." He grins as he elbows you in the ribs and sets off driving you home, while excitement rapidly blooms inside you.

You dropped your necklace.

You read the words over and over, unsure what your response should be. You needed that necklace. The simple silver chain holding the tiny teardrop pearl. It was all you had left of your dad. When he died, your step-mother sold most of his things, including gifts he bought for you. This was your last, most cherished item. The only reason you were allowed to keep it is that you were wearing it at the time and you haven't taken it off since. Losing it had your chest aching. You stared at Jungkook's last message until sleep over took you.

Monday morning. Eyes gritty and burning, you wake to the sea of sleep trying to entice you back to its darkening depths but you fight your fluttering eyelids and get ready for a new day.

How are you going to look at Jungkook now? You should tell him who you are. Yes, you'll do that and get your necklace back and it'll be happily ever after. 

Only it won't.

From your experience happily ever after doesn't happen for most people, even accomplished, brilliant, beautiful people. You're entirely average and ordinary, why would it happen for you?

By the time you get to campus, your manic mind has been changed numerous times. You decide to wait until you see him, which you spend every moment of your arrival scanning the faces that pass you.

"Hey, hey, Jelly Bean. Looking for me?" Jimin's cheerful face comes into full view, distracting you.

He's clearly unimpressed with whatever expression you're portraying currently, as he pouts and turns to the sea of faces. "Clearly, I no longer matter, now you've got big dick Jungkook."

You hush him loudly, looking around to ensure there were no listening ears. "Firstly, I'm begging you, stop talking about his dick and secondly, stop being stupid."

He laughs at your stressed rant. "Ok, ok, jeez. Is he meeting you this morning?"

Your body tenses, knowing, already hearing the lecture he's about to scold you with.

"You didn't tell him, did you? He still has no idea it's you!?" He sighs, throwing his hands in the air dramatically, typical Jimin fashion. "I swear to god...If you don't tell him, I will."

Your head snaps over to him as you walk side by side into the building, glaring menacingly in his direction. "You wouldn't dare."

He shrugs. "Try me, scaredy cat."

You huff and scrub at your tired eyes. "Let me just get through my classes then we shall discuss this."

He laughs as he tussles your hair and heads off in the opposite direction.

Your day passes fairly quickly, even though your struggle to stay awake during lectures only grows.

You do not see Jungkook, which is not unusual as you're not even in the same wings of the building most of the time.

Jimin's frantic waving has you puzzled as a deep frown creases your brow as you walk towards him, his jumping and pointing most unusual. It's only when you see a set of hands directly in front of you and feel your necklace land on your chest as it's draped across your collar bones, that you stop in your tracks. 

Those hands, warm at the back of your neck and a mouth next to your ear saying, "I told you I'd look after it and return it." Unmistakably Jungkook's voice whispers in your ear making you quiver.

When his hands are gone you look down and find relief washing over you with the familiar feel of your necklace, having felt bare and empty without it.

"Why didn't you reply to my messages?" He asks, stepping in front of you with a big bunny smile.

Wide eyed with shock, your mouth gapes open with the slow realization that he is, in fact, talking to you. "How-how did you…" Words fail you as you frantically think of any way you might have let slip your identity but coming up empty.

"How did I know it was you?" He asks, mouth pulled on one side in a smile. "When you dropped your necklace as you left the dance, I recognized it instantly. "

"Wh-what?" You squeak out. You attempt to swallow your confusion enough to form a coherent sentence. "On what planet would someone like you notice anything about someone like me."

A look of hurt flashes across his face, almost as if you'd slapped him as he takes a step towards you, a hair's width away now. "How could I not notice you? You're beautiful and smart, you don't follow the crowd and you're kind to everyone, I've noticed everything the last two years. I've just never spoken to you properly because….well...what do I have to offer someone like you, with endless talents and interests, a charming personality to boot and just when I think that's all there is, I discover something else about you. I'm just the school jock, popularity gets me opportunities, I don't have to work hard for anything...I feel...inferior to you. Worthless."

Your heart aches, hearing the words you feel escaping his mouth. How could that be possible? How on earth could he be so utterly mistaken, so completely wrong about himself?

"But gameoverguk is nothing like that person you're describing. If that's truly who you are?" You question quietly.

He nods, placing a finger under your chin and tilting your head up to him.

"Hi, I'm Jeon Jungkook, I'm a gamer geek, I'm good at sports, I enjoy bike rides on the weekend and finding new food spots and I'd really like to take you out sometime...if you'll let me."

You feel your lips stretch into an undeniable grin. "Nice to finally meet you Jungkook. I'd love to."

As you aim the plastic machine gun, keeping it steady in your armpit and pointed towards the screen, you and Jungkook race through the game, taking down your enemies at every chance. When your team name, "Blue Hour Gamer" flashes in neon letters on screen as the winners, your hollering and hooting fill the arcade. 

You don't even care that people are watching, not when you jump up and high five each other or when that high five turns into a hug, or when that hug very quickly turns into a kiss. You don't care.

You pull away quickly, embarrassment finding its way to dust your cheeks scarlet. Until you feel his hand press your lower back to him, your bodies crushing together and moving in perfect sync, making their own rhythm and inviting you to sing with it.

Heat blazes inside you like a wildfire, capturing everything else in its path and turning into thoughtless ash in the wind. Nothing else mattered, just him, his lips against yours, his hands on your skin, caressing so gently and yet setting your skin aflame.

Before you knew it, you were at his small, studio apartment, realising you had no clue he lived alone but thankful for that just the same.

When your back finds the bed, you sink into it, disappearing into a cloud of euphoria as he roams your body, slow and meaningful. Every touch makes you feel things you never have before, and every movement brings you closer to the edge of the precipice. 

The way his mouth feels on you as he explores your body sends sparks of electricity racing through you. The way he feels inside you with each perfect, controlled movement lights you up like the sunrise after dark, warming you with its rays as you stare off the cliff edge and brace yourself for the impact. His hand caresses your cheek as he looks deeply into your eyes, something so sweet and pure in the action that your chest swells with emotion. His forehead touches yours as he moves in perfect time with your pounding heart. Suddenly you're falling, everything going past in a rush before crashing onto a sea of ecstasy, writhing and moaning until your climax subsides and his has joined in unison.

A tender kiss on your head, his arm winding around you, pulling you to him and encasing you in the perfect safety net is enough. Maybe he'll be your happily ever after, after all.

[writemekpop]

Ex’s and Oh’s | Jung Jaehyun

Pairing: Jung Jaehyun x Reader

Summary: Drunk and stranded at a house party, you have no option but to call your ex Jaehyun. When you see him, you realise you want him back. How far are you willing to go to prove it?

Genre: Ex-Boyfriend!Jaehyun, Angst, Suggestive

Word Count: 1.6k

Gif: @johnni​

“W-watch it,” you slur.

Liquid splashes down the front of your sequin dress. It takes your rum-riddled mind a moment to work out that someone’s spilled their drink on you.

You can’t tell if the room is spinning or you are. “God, why did I drink so much?” you mutter. But deep down, you know why you did it – to forget about him.

You push through the crowd in the living room into the garden. Drunk people are littered across the lawn, some making out, some fast asleep.

The fresh air calms you, but only for a moment. A sickening feeling washes over you. You grasp at your purse, but to your horror, it’s empty.

“My phone!”

You look back at the heaving house. There’s no way you’ll be able to find your phone in that mess.

“Hey, you!” You dash towards a boy sitting near you, almost tripping over your heels. “Can I borrow your phone?”

The boy nods and hands it over.

You stare at the keypad, desperately trying to remember any phone number that isn’t his. But it's useless. You can only remember one string of digits. The ones seared into your heart.

The phone rings three times before he picks up.

“Jaehyun?”

There’s silence.

Then, “Y/n?”.

And it all comes rushing back – Jaehyun’s dimples, his deep laughs, his pink hands and pinker cheeks. You’re so overwhelmed by the memories that you forget to answer.

He snaps you out of it. “What do you want, Y/n? It’s 2AM.” Jaehyun’s once chocolatey voice is ice cold. You suppress a shiver.

“Jaehyun, I’m sorry for calling you but I’m at a house party and I lost my phone and I don’t know how to get home and-” you gasp. “Can you please come and pick me up?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, praying that he’ll say yes.

There’s more silence.

“Jaehyun…” you plead. “I didn’t know who else to call. I’m… I’m scared.”

You hear a sigh. “Alright. Stay where you are, Y/n. I’m coming.”

Warmth trickles through you. Thank god.

You sit on the porch step, shivering in your mini dress. Just as you're about to doze off, you hear the low hum of an engine. Your eyes snap open.

You see a battered blue Prius pull up in front of the house. You’d recognise that car anywhere. After all, it’s where you lost your virginity.

Jaehyun steps out, and you almost gasp. He’s just as handsome as you remember – scratch that, he’s more handsome.

A head of soft purple hair frames his smooth skin. His dark lashes fall onto towering cheekbones, with those deep dimples you could spend eternity in.

Jaehyun’s wearing a simple black T shirt, but you can see a new definition rippling underneath.

When he sees you, Jaehyun's lips form a tight line.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asks, gesturing at your skimpy dress.

You wrap your arms around him, locking him in a tight embrace. “Not anymore,” you mumble against his chest.

You breathe in his cologne, grapefruit and cinnamon. You're weak at the knees - and it's not just the alcohol. But Jaehyun is frozen under your touch, hands hanging limp by his sides.

“Thanks for coming, Jae.” You hiccup.

“Well, I couldn’t just leave you…” Jaehyun says, avoiding your eyes. “Come on, let’s go.”

Jaehyun starts pacing towards his car.

You hurry behind him, but you can barely manage a straight line. Suddenly, your heel snaps, and you thud onto the wet grass.

Jaehyun whips his head round.

“Y/n! Are you alright?” he asks, crouching down in front of you. His brows crease with concern. When he catches you staring, his face falls blank.

“Why did you have to drink so much, Y/n?”

“Why do you think?” You nurse your scraped knee, which stings more with shame than pain.

Jaehyun holds his hand out for you. You grasp it, ignoring the sparks that fly through you, and let him haul you up.

When you stand up, you’re so close to his face that you can see the faint blush on his papery cheeks.

“God, you’re gorgeous.” You slap your hand over your mouth. “Did I just say that out loud?”

The tiniest smile appears on Jaehyun's face.

The drive home is quiet. Every time you try to talk, Jaehyun just looks away.

The passing streetlights pulse bright amber on Jaehyun's face. He grips the steering wheel so tight his knuckles go white.

You rest your head on the door and stare out of the window. The world fades into black…

When you wake up, you realise you’re in the parking lot of your apartment block.

Jaehyun is standing outside the car, on the phone. His denim jacket forms your makeshift blanket. It smells like the Christmas you shared together.

You step out of the car. Jaehyun sees you and hangs up.

“Who were you talking to?” you ask.

Jaehyun just purses his lips. “Do you think you can walk alone?”

You nod.

The bright lights in the lift make your head throb. “Was that your new girlfriend you were on the phone with?”

Jaehyun pauses, then nods curtly, avoiding your gaze.

Your stomach clenches with bile, and you have to grab the lift handle for support. Thankfully, the elevator door dings open.

You stumble down the hallway to your apartment, Jaehyun following silently behind you.

You step inside your apartment, chucking off your high heels.

Jaehyun stands at the doorway, picking at invisible dust on his jeans.

“Thanks for bringing me home. Do you… want to come inside?”

“I better not.” Jaehyun says, pushing his hand through his hair.

“Fine,” you mumble, feeling a lot more hurt than you’d expected. You pick up a glass of water from the side table.

But then, the glass slips out of your hand and smashes onto the floor. You stand there dumbfounded, staring at the broken shards by your feet.

Jaehyun runs into the apartment. “Don’t move. Are you hurt?”

“I…” you touch your cheek. Your fingers come away wet. You hadn’t even realised you were crying.

You take a step towards Jaehyun. Your bare foot lands on a shard of glass, and you yank it back, hissing.

“I told you not to move!” Jaehyun steps towards you, his Timberlands crunching on the glass.

Jaehyun places one arm around your waist and the other under your legs, lifting you into his arms. He carries you bridal style towards your bedroom. You don’t have to tell him the way.

You feel so safe in his arms. “Why did we break up again?” you murmur.

Jaehyun sighs softly. “You broke up with me, remember?” You turn your face into his shirt, feeling his warmth pulsing through. Jaehyun’s heart speeds up.

Jaehyun pushes your bedroom door open and gently sets you down on your bed. You lie and watch as he picks some pyjamas from your wardrobe.

He places the clothes on the pillow beside your head. “I really should go now…”

Jaehyun turns towards the door, but you catch his wrist before he can leave.

“Wait… don’t go,” you whisper. Jaehyun stands frozen. You lace your fingers with his.

“I miss you… and I’m not just saying that because I’m drunk.”

Jaehyun’s broad shoulders rise and fall. You can’t see his eyes, but you pray that they hold the same longing you feel.

You gently tug Jaehyun around till he’s facing you.

You take in Jaehyun’s glistening eyelashes, the firm set of his jaw, his head hanging low. Your heart breaks to see him like this. This is your fault.

Jaehyun slumps down on the bed next to you.

“Please say something,” you whisper, your heart thumping against your ribs.

Jaehyun lifts his head and stares at you. You notice, for the first time, that his hazel eyes are flecked with gold. Your breath catches. Why had you never noticed that before?

You place your hands on his shoulders. Jaehyun stays absolutely still as you drag your lips up the soft skin of his neck.

“Jaehyun…” you murmur.

You lean in and kiss him on the mouth. Jaehyun gasps, but his hand trails up and cradles the back of your head.

Jaehyun kisses you back, and you slide back together like no time has passed at all. You feel his lips everywhere, his warm breath touching every inch of your skin.

When you pull away, you’re both panting.

“You should get some sleep,” Jaehyun says softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

As if on cue, your head starts to spin. You nod, mentally promising to never drink again. You can’t imagine what you look like right now – a mess wouldn’t begin to describe it.

Jaehyun helps you pull your dress off over your head. He averts his gaze from your chest as he helps you into your pyjamas.

When you’re dressed, you crawl under the duvet cover.

“Will you stay till I fall asleep?” You hide your burning cheeks with the duvet.

“Of course,” he whispers.

---

The morning sun presses on your eyelids, forcing you awake.

You clutch your head as you sit up, feeling liquid rolling forward in your stomach.

Your eyes go to the bean bag at the end of your bed. Jaehyun is slouched, fast asleep, long limbs spilling onto the floor. His purple hair sticks up in crazy tufts, but he still manages to look angelic.

Warmth floods your veins. He stayed!

Suddenly, you hear a phone ring. The sound smashes into your skull at a million decibels.

You scramble to stop the hideous noise, and see a black phone on your bedside. Without thinking, you accept the call.

“Hello? Y/n speaking,” you mumble.

A woman’s voice crackles over. “Who are you and why do you have my boyfriend’s phone?”

You gasp. His girlfriend. You totally forgot.

You hang up without responding. You look over to Jaehyun, who’s wide awake. His face is deathly pale.

Shit.

[incarnateirony]

Hi! I’m still not really over the last episode (and that happy montage in the end i-) and I’m feel confused about what’s part of the episode was fake. I mean the end totally is. But all Chuck scene was superweird too. And sometimes i think that it should be Cas instead of Lucifer and Jack felt him. I mean... confused! How do you feel about that?

Okay so here’s the thing -- this is a multifaceted episode--

BuckLeming, while often herded efficiently by Dabb, can muddy up the textual waters, leave gaps, and things unexplained.

However, that doesn’t account for Showalter’s choices in direction. Dutch shots out the ASS which are typically used to evoke that something is "wrong." Lots of panoramas, tracking shots, zooms and blurs in ways that simply are-not-standard for SPN. Extreme aerial shots.

One might even think “maybe it’s Chuck looking in on them!” but then you realize the same overhead view zoomed out on *Chuck* even and panned out to the horizon again.

One of the early mega-zooms literally zoomed out to The World, even. I’m just gonna gesture people to my tag on that and let them think on that, much less the empty world orbiting on the news or whatever the hell else.

There were *several* Cas-baits, yes. Yes, that was intentional from our actual authors. 

But when it comes down to “fake episode”, here’s where we were at.

15.17-19 run immediately concurrently. At the end of 17, Chuck says this was his ending.

Now, the Winchesters largely derailed that ending, so Chuck was writing new material.

But Chuck is also seeking death. 

He wrote a suicide note in 11. He wrote the story that would end in him and Amara being eradicated. And whatever influence he was exerting forcefully with Michael and Lucifer to bop the story around was all in the interest of seeing his book. One might think “to keep the Winchesters from killing him”, but he was desperate to see what his ending WAS, to know it and experience it and scream after them.

The dour taking of “no one cares” right after “I care(d)” about humanity is its own highlight going on.  But wait, there’s MORE.

When Dabb dropped his pre-episode thing, we started talking before the episode.

So I mean, I think what we were *mostly* witnessing is the pen being ripped away.

But this is that emptiness that lingers even with Chuck generally resolved. They’re still kinda on the pages. The book is presented as shut, and the next steps are not taken. Development stops, if not drops.

This entire thing is so meta my damn head hurts.

Summarily: Is it just like, some weird AU that’s gonna go away? Not so much. Is it an incomplete portion of the story told from a skew? Absolutely. And is there still someone watching over them? T’would seem so. The whole World, even. Beyond Chuck. 

Now the point at which we start blocking off issues of “eugenie writes like she’s 3″ is where we ask about things like “god power” or whatever else being thrown in the mix along with eugenie’s ki ball special effects that are literally always unique to her episodes, even if other people have to add the SFX.

So while it was a good bit of masterful work to do it via buckleming for this style of bump, it still inevitably has its flaws because... buckleming. But... Showalter was there. And one thing to note is almost every single scene entrance had some sort of major pan or zoom effect. That’s not typical for him.

The entire thing is designed to evoke, directorially: 

One style: crooked shots, unlevel, unbalanced, uneasy feeling.

Second style: Over-under; some force is watching them on high, while others have a sort of brechtian absurdity, which seats it like a play on an elevated stage.

We are the audience, looking up at figures half the episode; but a second audience is looking in from “on high” and out over the world. As if perhaps even from the heavens. 

Third style: CSI Miami, basically? Parts of this episode were sectioned off to be like a procedural crime drama in its cinematography and flashbacks. Which is ironic, because Dean loathes procedural dramas, but at the same time some of this fandom demands a procedural monster show instead of a family drama show. 

Sam and Dean barely have any lines in the episode *until* we hit Crime Drama Time. Then suddenly, they reveal all of their case work. Despite Dean’s hatred of crime dramas, this is honestly when I feel like the brothers kicked in their own pen. 

Let’s play a game-- the winchesters are aware they can write their own story. So they start telling the story they think people want to hear, or maybe just fill in the gaps from when Chuck gets dropped on his ass. Maybe Dean’s the one writing about how many times god punched them in the face whereas Sam is breaking down the crime scene investigation front. Another, where it feels like we’re loosely circling the war table as others lightly wander too.

But everything before that is the first and second style, and even after that, the overview-angle remains. The uneasiness is gone but there is an emptiness otherwise. But we are no longer spectators from beneath the stage, but staring into them.

I still very much expect everyone to “die” one more time and several specifics to choose to walk back into life at the end of it.

Is it a *complete* false narrative? No. We’re not just gonna turn around and be like “oh that whole ep didn’t happen.” But the writer lost his pen and got jacked at one point, while we also observed the stage from a series of angles as different audiences.

Riddle me this: Why show the World? “Because it’s empty and just them!” okay but there’s a lot of ways to show that which actually gets that point a whole lot better across than “here, here’s a planet that still looks lit up”--yes I know electricity is still running until stuff runs out but essentially speaking, the end of the episode shows us the kind of dramatic shots that could be used for that.

CASey just poofed in the World in the TV, seems legit.

Let’s see these overhead angles again, knowing it isn’t just Chuck.

This sort of overview is known for causing a “dollhouse effect” that derealizes the episode and makes them seem, well, like toys. Which is interesting. Because Chuck isn’t the only one watching them on high.

Cool, this is fine.

Either way, the entire episode is DESIGNED to cause some major uncanny valley. There’s a lot of parts that simply *haven’t been told or filled in.*  It’s almost like evasive maneuvering, half the content just never made it to print, and what did wasn’t in its best draft. There may be battling authors, or a transition of authorship. But the thing is: this is not the complete story.

There is an entire missing section about Sam and Dean even finding out that Jack is a power siphon which they hadn’t witnessed yet much less arranged an entire plan.

Even Chuck’s episodes are generally told from the general POVs of the Winchesters, but this was absolutely not. 

Matthew 28: 18: And Jesus came and spake unto them, saying, All power is given unto me in heaven and in earth. Put a pin in that one.

Unless CHUCK IS WRITING HIS OWN FAKE DRAMATIC END, the overhead view, however, IS NOT CHUCK PERSPECTIVE.

-- Regardless, the metaness of “fish in a toilet bowl BRL plot” stacked into this makes it very difficult to accurately decipher the lines, especially with only one watch so far--just skimming back through right now to grab a few things I remember.

Some parts are plot salad buckleming.

Some parts are us as forced spectators of a stage play.

some parts are shifting authorship

Some parts are the heavens looking out over the earth it loves.

------

It almost feels as if, within enclosed spaces, unsteadiness and stageplay, we have Chuck’s POV.

But by the end it ceases to have any relevance, as he is no longer the author, and instead, we have the Presence of Being overseeing them, letting the Winchesters argue for their own proverbial pen in their own storytellings between here and there.

ALTERNATE PROPOSAL:

 it is all one point of view. All of it. Pretend you’re someone’s eyes on a situation, you just happen to be in the sky half the time, and the uncanny valley is pulling forward the concept of being a presence that simply isn’t *there.*  For example we're looking extremely closely at passed out dean but the camera turns and raises to level with Sam before Dean gets up. Our viewership lens is rising to meet Sam.

The camera stays in motion to fill a role or slot of a viewer. At first it’s haunting and ominous, but at other times, it’s simply part of the room, when it isn’t hovering from on high. Rather than speaking of empty space, we are viewing The World through that empty space, as if it were a Being.

Just a few more eye catching shots.

But whoever or whatever frames the end, even without Chuck--like the story is still turning on the pages, roughly. 

The montage at the end feels like the Swan Song one, more or less, but there’s no narrator, no chuck.

The writer, the writer we know at least, is Absent.

Men are writing their own Stories.

But they aren’t alone.

I know how you see yourself. Angry and dark like your father. You think that’s what you are. But you are the most loving man in the whole world. That is who you are.

Someone does care. Even if right now, Sam and Dean don’t feel like anyone does.

...Because of you. I cared. For you, for Sam, for Jack, for the Whole World.

I cared.

“That’s not who I am.”

I am.

I speak therefore I am.

[descendantofthesparrow]

Huma x reader (mainly showing Harry x reader) - slowburn oneshot - brand new

wattpad version (smut included)

Ao3 version (smut included)

=

-This is a smut oneshot(edit; turned into a slow burn oneshot that goes into smut cuz I can edit2.0; this tumblr version doesn’t have smut in it, it is hinted at but otherwise its not written but I will link to the AO3 and Wattpad versions that will have the smut posted) because im trying to practice writing it and (y/n) is written with she/her pronouns and has female body parts because, again, im still practicing on smut and want to get used to writing my own…body type before I branch out to attempt to write any other type anyways LETS GET TO IT-

Your leg bounced as you stared at the wooden swing doors of Ursula's chip shop. Harry had left to do some errands two hours ago, and usually he got those particular errands, collecting payment for the protection of shops and territory, done within two hours.

But it had been a whole two hours, you glanced at the clock again, and two minutes. Something burned in your gut, telling you something was wrong. You wouldn’t dare voice your concern in front of the crew and the chip shop customers, you would be cackled at for even entertaining the idea of worrying about someone, even if it was Harry.

You and Harry weren't close, you were just a simple crew member on Uma’s crew, you had joined after their adventure to the isle of the doomed so you didn’t have the bond that the crew had after going through something life-threatening. You were pretty sure Harry didn’t even know your name!

But that never stopped the butterflies in your head and stomach when you heard him laugh, never stopped the heat creeping up your neck when he smirked, never stopped the fuzzy feeling in your head when his ever so bright ocean blue eyes lined with black liner scanned the crew, never once locking onto you but that didn’t stop your heart from beating faster than a hummingbirds wings…whatever hummingbirds were but Gil had rambled about them one day after he found a bird fact book and that particular fact stuck in your head.

Besides, Harry practically had every vk at his feet, hell you were pretty sure Uma liked him too, and he liked her, with how they looked at each other it was a wonder that the entire isle didn’t ‘gossip’ about them.

And you were nothing compared to Uma, who in all honesty, was fucking gorgeous, so you could never blame Harry if he chose her out of all his “suitors” because who were you compared to Uma? You were just the daughter of simple thieves who had unfortunately been sent to the isle.

You looked at the clock again and frowned, it had only been another two minutes but that didn’t stop the pit in your stomach from growing. If Harry wasn’t back by 8:30, which was a bit less than a half-hour from now, then you would go looking for him…well if Uma didn’t send anyone out to look for him first, but she trusted him so she might not send anyone out at all.

But like you, Uma nervously glanced at the doors and clock every few minutes, like you, she also felt something was wrong but had to keep her usual calm demeanor in front of the crew.

You made eye contact with her after looking away from the clock again, Uma raising her brow in curiosity as you felt your ears burn and you looked to the doors quickly.

You counted down the minutes to 8:30, your fingers tapping rapidly against your tray of food and the heel of your boot hitting the leg of your stool in time.

It had been two and a half hours after Harry left for his errands, and you had finally had enough, you made eye contact with Uma as you stood and she nodded, glancing towards the doors then the sword check then back at you.

You somehow understood each other and you nodded back, heading towards the doors quickly as you snatched your cutlass from the sword check and raced out the chip shop in search of Harry.

-

You hopped over a rusted metal fence and landed on your toes; your eyes wide with caution. you were now just along the lines of territory a rival gang that had been attempting to take Uma’s territory for the past couple months. After you had gone to all the areas that Harry was supposed to go for his collecting route, Dizzy, bless her little heart, had nervously told you about Dylan, Clayton’s son, and his gang had ambushed Harry just a bit after he had finished up at Dizzy’s and kidnapped him and stole all the money he had just collected.

So you went to go collect the pirate and the money they had stolen, they were probably going to keep him for ransom against Uma, but what ransom would they have if there was no pirate or money?

You may have been the daughter of two ‘simple’ thieves but….then again, they were simple on the isle, not in Auradon.

Your lip twitched as a bout of cruel laughter echoed out from the building, you sprinted forward silently as you noticed one of the gang members on lookout duty starting to come around the corner to your right. You took a leaping step, catching yourself on an open window ledge and pulling yourself up swiftly, jumping up the three feet gaps between the windows as the guard passed below you not even knowing you had been where he was walking just a moment ago.

You thanked whatever god was out there for your (dad/mom) teaching you how to free run when you were younger. You peeked into one of the dark floors of the building, pursing your lips a bit as you remembered that their gang site was in an abandoned parking lot. Not much room for error, or hiding places.

You hopped through the window and landed silently on your feet, stopping as another bout of laughter echoed below you.

They kept to the lower floors then, which was good to know, it also meant both an easier and harder escape once you had Harry. Easier because less distance between Harry and the exit, harder because less distance between the exit and the gang.

You ran over to the stairwell; glad you had decided to wear your shoes with no heel as it made running quietly much easier. You grinned as you stepped into the stairwell, no door. hopefully, the other floors didn’t have them either, or else if they squeaked both you and Harry would be in for some shit.

You glanced at the faded number on the wall.

The seventh floor, wow you had climbed quite a bit, hadn't you? You shook away the thought, swiftly yet carefully climbing down the stairs, scanning each floor as you arrived to check for the gang.

Finally, you arrived on the third floor, the only floor with any light coming from it. You moved to stand flush against the wall next to the doorway of the floor, peering in as best you could without anyone seeing you, glancing every now and then to the stairway for any other gang members.

You huffed quietly as Dylan pushed at Harry's limp head, cackling and muttering to himself as he circled Harry like a bloodthirsty shark. You grit your teeth as you got a good look at Harry in the dimly lit area he was in. he was tied to both a structural beam and a folding chair, blood dripped from the side of his head down to his jaw and off his chin, he was starting to bruise on his face, neck, and possibly his torso and wrists, but those weren’t visible at the moment so you settled for guessing his injuries.

His right ankle was also at a VERY worrying angle…you might have to take some drastic measures to get Harry out of this parking garage.

Dylan was muttering something about how Uma would bow to him when she found her ‘precious’ first mate all bloody and beaten, and how he would finally have command of the wharfs.

“not on my watch” you muttered, quickly coming up with a plan and digging into your thigh bag, pulling out a handful of mini smoke bombs that your (dad/mom) had made forever ago in case one of the three of you needed them. You took out your lighter and lit the fuses, chucking them into the room and smirking as they landed right beside the gang members, luck seemed to be on your side today.

“what the hell-HOLY-“ Dylan let out a high-pitched screech as smoke burst from the nozzle of the smoke bombs and quickly filled the room, for being the size of ping pong balls they sure packed a wallop of smoke.

Pulling up your bandana to prevent any smoke inhalation you dashed into the room, running towards Harry but was stopped as a foot came arching your way. You held up your arms in front of your face and blocked the kick, stepping back quickly as the gang member started swinging at you, grunting with effort as you dodged and misdirected his punches.

“WHO THE HELL IS THAT?!” Dylan yelled, you smirked under your bandana, you weren’t really a known member of Uma’s crew, liking to keep to the shadows and out of sight.

You took the moment of disorientation from Dylan’s yell that caused the gang member to slip up and ducked under his next swing, one arm grappling around his next ant clasping with your other hand, your right foot going behind his ankle and pulling him forward flipping him over and slamming him into the ground with a loud crack.

He was out for the count, now, you looked up and around you, through the smoke you could see maybe 9 members left, including Dylan. Should be easy enough, you glanced at Harry, frowning slightly as he started to cough, but you would have to work quickly so Harry didn’t get all the smoke in the garage in his lungs.

You threw yourself back as another lackey of Dylan’s threw a punch at you, you decided to make quick work of them and grabbed their wrist, pulling it up and back towards them, smirking at the sickening pop that sounded from their shoulder. They screamed and dropped to the ground in agony, yelping as you leaned back from a sweeping air kick and slammed your hands onto the floor, using the momentum and lifting your legs back with you.

Your foot slammed into the next lackey's chin and he fell back, his skull slamming against the floor with a crack. You rolled back into a summersault and stood on your feet, catching the leg that was aimed at your chest and pulling the lackey towards you, kicking them twice in the stomach then throwing them over your shoulder with a twist of your torso and a spin of your feet.

They crashed to the floor just next to Harry, who was just barely coming to consciousness and jumped at the loud noise. He squinted through the smoke and dimly lit area, eyes widening as he spotted the spray panted symbol of Uma’s crew plain on your jacket sleeve.

Dylan watched in shock as you easily took out his gang members, and when the final one fell, he could feel the smug grin you had when you turned to face him.

Dylan let out an intelligible yell and rushed at you, only for his world to go black as you stepped to the side, grabbed his arm, turned your back to his chest, and swung him over you using his momentum.

Dylan and his gang were out for the count. And with Dylan knocked out the smoke finally cleared and all that was left was the dimly lit floor, the unconscious bodies of the gang, and an injured Harry.

You let out a soft sigh and pushed down your bandana, walking towards Harry and flipping out your pocket knife, kneeling next to Harry and cutting the ropes around his wrists and legs, then the ones around his torso keeping him to the beam. “woah-“ you pressed your hands against Harry's chest gently as he tried to rush out of the chair. “-hold up, you’re really hurt” Harry looked down at you, and you winced as you saw his swelling eye and bleeding nose for the first time, his lip was busted too.

“who-“ Harry slurred, trying to ask for your name or your rank in the crew but was unable to get the words out still being very much out of it from being jumped and beaten.

“im (y/n), im a regular ol’ crew member, and I got worried about you and came looking, come on, there are still some members on guard duty and we need to skedaddle before they come up” Harry gave a slow nod and with your help got to his feet, letting out a yelp as he put too much pressure on his broken ankle.

“um, okay” you quickly thought up a plan and had Harry lean on you almost completely, cursing Dylan for making the main part of his hideout on the third floor, now you had to get Harry down three flights of stairs just to get him to the doors. You and Harry froze at the sound of heavy footsteps running up the stairs, you let go of Harry's hand and lowered him to the ground, quickly jumping into a fighting stance and glaring at the stairwell doorway.

You felt Harry's eyes on you as did so, but you did your best to ignore him and the butterflies that swarmed in your stomach. You slumped as Gil’s concerned face popped above the stairs, his eyes widening as he looked at Harry “holy heck, what happened?” Gil asked, walking over to Harry and checking him over.

“Dylan wanted him for ransom for the captain's territory, I took care of it” Gil gave you a look, you were never one to take initiative in the crew, well he didn’t either but you always stayed in the background, always seeming too scared to do anything about…well anything.

So for you to go out of your way to save Harry made Gil want to scratch his head. It clicked for him a moment later when he remembered how you always stared at Harry, with a look he could never put his finger on. Yes, Harry was the first mate and any of the crew members should put their life on the line to rescue him if needed but you didn’t do this as a crew member, you did this out of your personal feelings.

Gil, for once, didn’t think aloud, just hoisted Harry into his arms, ignoring Harry's protests and light smacks against his shoulder, and walked down the stairwell, you taking a moment to collect Harry hook that had been attached to one of the lackeys and running after them.

-

You stood awkwardly at the door frame of Harry's room as Gil set the injured pirate on his bed, you had never seen his room before, it was…a decent size, but you forced yourself not to memorize it for…reasons.

“I’ll tell Uma” you muttered aloud, walking away from Harry's room as you saw Gil nod, not seeing Harry strain his body in an attempt to keep his eyes on you.

When you arrived back at the chip shop and quietly informed Uma of the situation, she cursed and looked to the clock, she wasn’t off till midnight and it was only 9:15, she had another two hours and forty-five minutes before she was off and then she still had to clean!

“just-have Gil take care of him” she muttered back, pushing you back towards the chip shop doors “there's a medical kit in my quarters, under the board just left to the door, it'll jiggle when you step on it, give that to Gil and he’ll know what to do” you nodded and ran back to the ship, not wanting Harry to suffer for any longer than he was.

You went to Uma’s quarters, whistling a bit at the size of the room, and turned to the left, flipping up the loose board and taking out the large duffle bah with the red plus symbol on the side. “this has to be it” you muttered, standing and walking out of the room, closing the door behind you and making your way to Harry's room. you peeked into the room, frowning at the sight of Harry's very swollen turning very red and dark purple ankle. You knocked on the door frame and stepped into the room, handing the duffle bag to Gil.

The boys seemed to realize exactly where the bag was from and looked at you apprehensively, gosh sometimes you forgot how protective of Uma they were, even if it was a simple item. “she gave me permission to get that, I'll be out of your hair now” you spun on your heel and speed-walked out of the room, ignoring the butterflies in your gut as you felt Harry's eyes on you again.

-

It took Harry almost two months to heal from his injuries, his ankle still had ways to go so he was forced to be on the bench for crew activities and his usual errands until he could walk without his ankle being at a weird angle or him wincing in pain every time he took a step or shifted his ankle.

Gonzo and Bonnie took over his usual errands as Gil took over as temp-first mate until Harry was all healed up.

During those two months, you had noticed something….new.

Harry and Uma had taken to staring at you…a lot…like a lot a lot.

At first, you thought you were imagining things, the feeling of eyes constantly on you, then you thought that maybe some of Dylan's gang members had found out you were the one to sabotage his plan and were spying on you.

Those thoughts went out the window when one day you turned to look over your shoulder and saw Harry and Uma staring directly at you, Uma leaning on the long table on her elbows as Harry covered his mouth and some of his nose with his chin resting in his palm. You snapped your head back around and curled in on yourself, willing the heat growing up your neck to go away.

The next odd thing to happen was Uma beginning to actually…use you for crew things? Usually you just kinda…sat back and watched as everyone else did stuff, not of your own violation or laziness, it's just that Uma and Harry never seemed to…have anything to do for you?

But now it seemed like Uma was actually trying to include you in pirate activities, even once assigning you to her when the ship needed some maintenance on its ropes. She also started to either keep close to you as you trained in combat with the crew or sometimes even training you herself.

Which led to some…situations, you see, while you were pretty much an expert in hand to hand combat you fucking sucked with swords so once in a while you fumbled with your sword and…Uma while not being a PDA person, well unless it was Harry but even then, would walk toward you and correct your grip, stance, your free hand for balance, and even lead you in some sort of weird dance to help you learn your footwork.

It was like she was…sizing you up, if that was the best word, always keeping her eye on you, asking you random questions, making you help out in the chip shop, and just…having you be around her more than you used to.

Then there was Harry, after two months of just staring at you, he started talking to you, first “thanking” you for saving his ass from Dylan, aka he made you a bracelet and tossed it in front of you with a nod and a mutter of  “thanks”. Gil had muttered next to you that Harry liked to make people stuff as a way to thank them, and held up his own bracelet that Harry made for him when they were younger “it's just one of the ways he shows appreciation!”

Then it moved to small conversations about random things, they weren’t long, just…small talk when you ended up in the same place as each other or when you were both on nightshift guard duty. The staring hadn't stopped, but you didn’t mind it as much as you used to, knowing it was Harry and Uma keeping their eyes on you, for whatever reason, but it made you feel….safe? you didn’t know the feeling that came with them watching you but you knew it wasn’t scared or threatened.

One day Harry asked you to practice some knots with him, setting up two crates and making you sit across from him. As you worked on learning how to make a round turn and two half-hitches knot, Harry stared at you, watching you ever so carefully, drifting his gaze from your concentrated face to your swift and calloused fingers as you successfully pulled the knot together, looking up at him with a shy grin, seeking his approval.

He smirked and nodded, patting your knee and beginning to instruct you on how to do other knots, in a softer voice than before. Next, is something that took you a pretty long time to notice but, they started to get physically closer to you when they could. Like when the crew crowded around the table for mealtime at the chip shop. In the beginning, you always sat at the farthest end of the table, always keeping to yourself and trying not to bother anybody.

But as time went on, you were slowly being pushed towards the middle of the table where Uma, Harry, and Gil always sat, or sometimes you would sit in your usual seat and Harry or Uma would be away from their seats and closer to you. You didn’t notice any of this until your shoulder was in line with Harry’s, his jacket brushing against your arms and legs knocking into yours.

They both seemed to also attempt to get you into conversations more, Uma’s hands ending up on your arms or shoulder when she talked to the crew if they weren’t on Harry's shoulder, Harry leaning in close to you when you had your little conversations, Uma staring intently as you trained with the crew.

Most of this you didn’t notice, being the oblivious and overthinker person you were, you brushed off the thought of a possible connection with the two and thought they were just doing what captain and first mate did, have a good relationship with a crew member was essential.

What you didn’t see was the crew smirking as Harry stared at you, snickering when Uma rested her hand on your shoulder, whispering to themselves as their eyes always flashed over to you when you walked through the doors, gossiping when Harry sneaked his own food onto your plate.

Even Gil, who was admittedly a bit airheaded, could see what was going through the minds of his two oldest friends. He just grinned and leaned back, knowing he had started it all when he had told Uma of his “theory” of you possibly having feelings for her first mate/kinda boyfriend.

She at first just wanted to size you up, to see if you were “worthy” of her best friend, she and Harry had an open relationship, if either of the others wanted to get with someone else as long as they talked it through and got consent it wasn’t a problem. Uma just wanted to see if you wouldn’t hurt Harry.

She didn’t expect to catch feelings for you. It was something that boiled beneath the surface of her skin as it developed, she didn’t even notice it happened. The feeling of sparks dancing across her fingertips when her hand touched yours when she fixed your grip on your sword, the burst of warmth beneath her skin when she locked eyes with you, the flutter in her gut when you laughed at one of Gil’s stupid jokes or Harry’s dumb stunts.

It was all the same feelings she got when she was around Harry, but it took only one moment for her to realize she had fallen for you. It was just supposed to be a regular Sunday on the isle, it was her day off so she decided to spend it with you meandering around the marketplace, not particularly looking for anything just browsing.

Their time at the market had been shortened by the arrival of Dylan, taunting Uma and getting in her face. “come on shrimpy!” he snickered, his gang behind him cackling loudly “too scared to go against me-GUk” Uma snapped her head around to look at Dylan as he suddenly gasped for breath and her eyes widened in shock. Dylan was on his back, holding his gut as you stood in front of Uma, tilting your head dangerously as the gang took a step back.

“not a good idea to disrespect the captain, Dylan” you growled, sending a shiver down Uma’s spine, you weren’t much a talker, and when you did it was soft, but now? There was a thick tension to your voice, almost reminiscent of Harry's low growly tone when he got angry.

Dylan slowly sat up and glared at you, eyes widening as he realized who you were “you’re-you’re the bitch that” he paled at the smirk on your face.

“that kicked your asses? All on her own? Yeah, I’m that bitch, now back the fuck up before I snap your teeth with my boot” Uma swallowed around the rising heat in her neck, rolling her shoulders to get rid of the uncomfortable tension that was growing inside her.

Dylan let out a snarl and snapped his fingers, three of his lackeys running towards you, all yelping as you took them down with ease. Uma smirked as the lackeys landed next to Dylan, who then stood quickly and bolted the other way.

Dylan stood and looked behind him, freezing as he noticed almost all his gang had abandoned him, the only one left was his right-hand man, who stared at you with wide fearful eyes. Dylan slowly turned as he heard you crack your knuckles and squeaked as you gave a sharp smirk “this is the part where you run away~” you giggled, holding in a loud laugh as Dylan and his last lackey turned and ran with their tails between their legs.

You rolled your shoulders with a sigh and turned back to Uma, feeling your cheeks burn as she stared at you with wide eyes “uh…captain?” Uma snapped out of her trance and smirked at you.

“and here I thought Harry lied to me about your fighting skills~” her smirk softened as you tugged at your shirt. “come on, let's finish up here”

It was only when you returned to the ship and Uma got a moment to herself, that she realized what those feelings were in the market, they were the same feelings she got when she looks at Harry.

She liked you…a lot. Uma let out a low groan and sunk into her chair in her quarters, now she had to deal with feelings for her chaotic dumbass first mate and the oblivious yet badass crew member.

She went from just checking you out to make sure you were good for Harry to now fucking liking you…what a trope huh?

Harry on the other hand, had realized his feelings from the start, they were very small to start with, he hadn't even known your name before the fateful day when you saved him from Dylan.

It felt like his heart was jumpstarted as he locked eyes with you as you flipped Dylan over your back, sparks running across his skin when you undid the ropes around his wrists.

First, he was impressed, you had gone out of your way to save him and then took down almost an entire gang, some of the members easily overtaking you in size and strength but you took them down as if they were nothing. Then you had been so protective of him as you tried to make your way out of the parking garage with him, even getting ready to fight Gil before you knew it was Gil.

As you walked out of Harry's room after giving Gil the medical pack, he had asked Gil what your position on the crew was. As Gil told him about you, he remembered when you told him your name and he quietly muttered it, smiling slightly as he decided it fit you perfectly

Then he was amused, you were much shyer than he thought you would be, you were always by yourself in a corner, keeping to yourself and never talking to anyone. As he moved closer to you during meal times, he enjoyed the little sarcastic comments you muttered to yourself as you listened to whatever the crew was talking about. He giggled to himself at the look on your face when he dropped the ‘thank you’ bracelet in front of you, mentally dancing in excitement when he saw you wearing it the next day and then never take it off,  he didn’t know why he mentally danced in excitement but he brushed away the implications of it.

Then he and Uma started to attempt to get closer to you, well Uma was doing…her own thing while Harry was trying to get closer. First, he started with having you learn and help him tie the ropes around the ship, watching you as you at first fumbled with any type of rope he attempted teaching you, his heart fluttering when you finally got it and looked up at him for approval, a shy grin on your face.

He watched enraptured as you trained with Uma, chucking as he could imagine the steam coming off your face as Uma placed her hands on your hips and hands and corrected your stance. He cackled when you knocked Gil to the floor on a hand-to-hand combat training day, falling to his side as you leaned over Gil's dizzy self with your hands moving about unsure of what to do.

He watched you interacted during the quiet moments of the night when you would both be on night shift watching the ship, your shy nature seeming to melt away under the cloudy black sky as you rambled about whatever you were thinking about. He never really noticed himself leaning ever so close as you talked, only able to focus on you.

He noticed the crew teasing him and Uma pretty early on, though they were easily silenced when either him or Uma glared at the crew.

One day, he realized he was smitten with you. The crack of your voice when you got nervous, when you fidgeted with your rings, the smirk on your face when you flipped one of the crew members over your back, the laugh that spilled from your lips when you finally got the hang of using your sword, when you rubbed your thumb against your lips as you zoned out, it all made him feel warm inside, the same feelings he got around Uma.

He had to tell Uma about his feelings for you, they were in an open relationship but he wanted to make sure she was alright with you before he pursued anything with you.

One night after Uma finished up at the chip shop, she arrived to her quarters to see Harry sitting on her bed, playing with the curve of his hook as he waited for her. “Harry?” Uma groggily asked, she was exhausted but Harry never seeked her out after midnight, so something was up “what's going on, what do you need?” she closed the door to her room with her foot and slipped off her boots and hat, walking over to harry and flopping down on the bed next to him. “um-“ Harry stuttered, the red in his ears creeping down to his cheeks “yeh know (y/n)?” Uma perked up at that, pushing herself up with her hands and staring hard at Harry.

“yeah?” Uma’s heart sped up at the mention of the girl she had fallen for, god she hoped Harry wasn’t going to say he didn’t like her, and then Uma would feel like shit and she’d never be able to kiss the shit out of you till either of you couldn't see straight. “what about her?”

“I-um…I-…I like ‘er…like I like yeh” Harry’s face was almost crimson now, staring down at his lap as he played with the loose threads on his pants. “and-and I was wonderin’ if I-I could…um, invite ‘er into our relationship?” Harry's voice cracked at the end, oh so nervous and scared for what Uma was going to say.

“thank fuck I thought I was the only one” Harry snapped his head around to look at Uma, his mouth dropping open slightly “god fuck isn’t she so fucking pretty?!”

Harry let out a small sigh of relief and fully turned to look at Uma, sitting up on his knees “YES! Fuck she so pretty I just wanna smoother her in fucking i-gaaah ya know?!” he lifted his hands in front of his face and clenched them in an odd motion of frustration from (y/n)s prettiness. Uma laughed and nodded, grabbing onto Harry's hands and gripping them tightly.

“I do know, and I would be a hundred percent down for inviting her into our relationship, but!” Uma held up her hand as Harry gave her a wide grin, he deflated a bit and tilted his head “we need to make sure she's gonna be okay with this” Uma motioned between her and Harry “hell we don’t even know if she has feelings for us” Harry looked hurt at that, just wanting to drag you into bed with him and Uma already so he could smother you with cuddles and whatever couples did with their adorable significant others “I know, but we need to play this safe, I don’t want to scare her off”

Harry gave a slow nod, he wanted to do what he always did, rush into an idea with no real plan and just hope he didn’t die. But he would listen to Uma on this, she was a lot better with relationships then he was…well the logical part of them, he was better at feelings and physical stuff.

So the two talked into the night, deciding in the early morning that they would tell (y/n) about their decision on Sunday when Uma was off work.

Their talk happened on Wednesday, by Saturday afternoon Uma was off the isle, having dived through the barrier just before it closed and swimming to Auradon in search of revenge on Mal and to free the vks still on the isle.

It was only after she left that you realized you had fallen for Uma alongside Harry. The piercing feeling in your chest and gut every time you thought about your captain or even just being on the ship or chip shop slapped you in the face as you realized you fucking missed Uma, more than you should have.

You knew Harry missed Uma too, he had shut himself in his room soon after Uma disappeared at cotillion and refused to come out even when Gil asked. It wasn’t till his sister Harriet stormed onto the ship and dragged him out of his room that he seemed to be a little more like his usual self, he also started to hang around you more often and on the nights where you were on night guard duty he would join you, even when he didn’t have to anymore now that he was captain until Uma’s return.

Your mind was a maze, just trying to maneuver your feelings for both Uma and Harry, the feelings you had for Harry had multiplied for Uma, and now you couldn’t even think about either of them without heat rushing up your neck or butterflies rushing around your stomach.

Great, you had a crush/probably in love on the two people who were already “dating” each other, and both of them were so.damn.pretty. You groaned to yourself, covering your face and sinking to the ground in a crouch. Yeah, you had no fucking chance.

On the bright side, it did seem you were getting closer to Harry? So unrequited love aside at least you were getting a friendship out of it? The two of you started hanging out together more often than not, as you had mentioned before Harry joined you on night guard shifts, the two of you continued rope tying practice, started hand to hand combat training, he took Uma’s spot in teaching you how to use a sword, and sometimes the two of you would just…chill, hanging out in the bird’s nest drinking and eating whatever snack or food Harry had found, you leaning against his legs in the cramped space.

About five months after Uma had left the isle, the crew, aka Bonnie and Drey, decided to have a “bonding” night, forcing everyone into the chip shop after closing time, surrounded by rum and leftover food from the day to play truth or dare/seven minutes in heaven.

The rules were if you didn’t want to tell the truth or accept the dare, you had to spin the bottle and play seven minutes in heaven with whoever it landed on, and if you refused to play that, you'd have to take a shot of Desiree’s strongest liquor.

Bonnie, being the one who made the rules, went first, pointing to Gil and asking him truth or dare.

“Truth!” Gil chirped, already halfway through on his fries. Bonnie hummed for a moment and tapped her bottle of beer, trying to think of something good since Gil did tend to blurt out everything.

“who do you have a crush on?” Bonnie finally asked with a teasing smirk, laughing a bit as he pointed at Harry. “yeah, okay we knew that”

Harry blew a kiss towards Gil and Gil grinned and caught it, smacking it on his cheek and going back to his food as the crew burst into laughter. Gil tossed a fish stick into his mouth and looked around the group, pointing at Gonzo.

“truth or dare Gonzo” Gonzo let out a low hum and shrugged.

“dare” he muttered, thinking that Gil wouldn't be able to think of anything that bad. Oh, boy was he wrong.

Gil gave a nasty grin and stood, walking over to the kitchen and rummaging in the fridge for a few moments “oi what the hell are you doing?” Harry yelled, pouting as Gil didn’t answer.

Gil returned with something in his fist, his other hand keeping the unknown object hidden from sight. He stood in front of Gonzo and opened his hands, showing a snake egg. “eat up!”

“OH HELL NO” Gonzo yelped, smacking the egg out of Gil's hand, Drey and Jonas screeching as it smashed against the floor and black goo spread from the destroyed egg. Half the crew scrambled back from the egg, its rancid smell already beginning to spread around the chip shop

“ah Gonzo come on!” Emanuel complained, diving behind Gabe, the two pushing each other away and towards the egg in desperation to get away from it and doom the other to the smell.

You covered your mouth as you held in your laughter, falling to your side a bit and your head hitting Harry's shoulder as he cackled. “okay okay Gil, clean it up, Gonzo, either spin the bottle or drink” Gil begrudgingly cleaned up as Gonzo pouted at Harry.

Bonnie held up the empty rum bottle and wiggled her brows at Gonzo. He glared at her and snatched a shot glass from Desiree and took the shot, gaging a bit as it went down his throat “holy shit that’s strong” he shivered, the rest of the crew booing as he handed the shot glass back to Desiree.

Since Gonzo had forfeited the dare and seven minutes in heaven, Gil went again, this time picking Drey and the girl chose to do truth. “Ummm okay…uh, ever give a blowjob?” the crew whistled and hollered at the speedy turn towards the sexual end of questions and Drey snickered, shaking her head and holding up her hand to her mouth, only her pointer and middle finger around her lips as she winked and stuck her tongue through. “I’ll take that as a no” Gil laughed, taking a sip of his rum and leaning back on his elbows.

“your turn Drey” Bonnie called, stealing a crab cake from Zhao and laying halfway down on the floor, resting her chin in her palm. Drey tapped her chin, looking around the crew before her eyes landed on Yamato, who quickly leaned behind Gabe but was too late.

“Yamato, truth or dare” he kept behind Gabe for a moment longer before he sighed and leaned back to sit straight and looked at Drey in surrender.

“dare” he muttered, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and chin in his hands. Drey gave a wicked grin and looked around, trying to find something that would best work on Yamato.

“oh! I got it…lick Gabe's foot” the crew yelled out in disgust as Gabe laughed and pulled off his boot, shoving it towards the disgusted Yamato.

“NOPE gimme the bottle, GIMME THE BOTTLE ID RATHER MAKE OUT WITH ANYONE ELSE THAN LICK HIS FOOT GABE GET THAT AWAY FROM ME OR WE WILL THROW HANDS” Yamato shoved Gabe away from him, the cackling pirate falling on his back holding his chest.

Bonnie cackled and pushed the empty bottle of rum into the middle of the circle, Yamato sighed and leaned over to spin it, sitting cross-legged as everyone stared at the bottle in both excitement and anxiety.

Finally, the bottle slowed and landed on Zhao, the crew cheered and the two boys laughed, Zhao biting his bottom lip, squinting his eyes, and raising his brows.

“Alright come on Zhao les make out!” Bonnie stood and ran over to the closet that she had declared “heaven”  the two boys joining hands and swinging them as they walked into the closet and Bonnie closed the door after them.

“have fun~ Gonzo set the timer!” Gonzo leaned over the took the timer/stop watch from where Bonnie was sitting and set it for seven minutes “im so glad that thing is basically soundproof I do not need to hear Yamato moaning” the crew snickered at that, Harry rolling his eyes and leaning towards you.

“five bucks Zhao gives Yamato a handy” you felt your cheeks burn at his low-toned voice and laughed a bit, nodding as he grinned at you.

“you’re on” you whispered, biting your lip as Harry patted your thigh and sat up straight again.

“who’s next?” Jonas asked, taking a swig of his rum and glancing about the room.

“I’ll just go again and when Yamato comes out hell go” Drey waved it off and looked around the room, pointing at Gabe “Gabe truth or dare!”

“Dare” Gabe snickered, falling off balance a bit as Drey pointed at Gil.

“sit in Gil's lap till someone picks you again” Gabe sighed and stood, plopping in Gil's lap and crossing his arms.

Gil didn’t seem to mind, reaching his arm over Gabe's waist to grab his food tray. “all right, Gonzo truth or dare!” Gonzo groaned, having only gone a couple of turns before but chose truth this time “have you ever given head before, doesn’t matter girl or boy just head” Gonzo tilted his head then nodded. the crew, minus you and Harry, wolf-whistled “yooo who!?” Gonzo grinned and shook his head.

“hey, I only had to answer if I have given it before not to who” Gabe pouted and leaned back into Gil.

“party pooper” Gonzo perked up and looked around the group, eyes landing on you, smirking as you shrunk into yourself in an attempt to make yourself invisible

“(y/n) truth or dare” you tugged at your shirt, trying to decide what to do, go with truth, and possibly reveal your crush on Harry and Uma? Be dared to do something embarrassing? Play spin the bottle? Or take a shot?

“um, truth” you squeaked out, Gonzo looking up at the ceiling as he tried to figure out what to ask you. Finally, he snapped his fingers as he looked back at you, having found the perfect question.

“Have you ever had sex? Or been with anyone for that matter?” you shook your head, you were a virgin through and through, you haven't even kissed anyone before. “huh, all right your turn”

You looked around the group, finally landing your eyes on Desiree who had been untouched the entire game “Desiree” she looked up at you, mid-sip on her rum “truth or dare?”

“Dare” she answered immediately, smirking as the crew ‘oooh’d at her. “gimme your best shot (nickname)”

“umm” you had never really…dared anyone to do anything before…this was gonna be tough. “lick the bottom of Bonnies boot” the crew stared at you for a moment as Desiree looked between you and Bonnie wide-eyed “what?”

“holy shit I thought you were gonna like, I don’t know, make me eat twenty crackers or something! But I’ll do it” the crew cheered and Gabe leaned over to give you a high five.

Bonnie lifted her boot into the air and cackled as Desiree just went for it, going sole to toe “AHHHH” Bonnie cackled, falling backward and holding her leg in the air. Desiree backed into her spot again and shook her head, hanging her tongue out of her mouth as she made gagging noises.

“tha’ wath stho groth” she gagged, grabbing a paper towel and scraping her tongue of the taste of Bonnie's boot. after a few moments of the crew laughing at her, along with the timer of Zhao and Yatamo’s seven minutes in heaven beeping, the two coming out of the closet with Messy hair, bruised lips and Zhao’s pants unbuttoned.

Harry pouted at you and took the five out of his wallet, placing it in your hand as you gave him a smug grin. “yeh won tha’ one lass” he laughed quietly, freezing as Desiree locked her eyes on him.

“Harry, truth or dare” Harry kept a staring contest with her, trying to predict what she was going to do.

Finally, he sighed “Dare” Desiree let out a cold cackle, Harry freezing again at it.

“let Gil give you a haircut” Harry immediately shook his head, Gil had cut his hair once before and he ended up with the worst patchy hair cut he had ever had, he only trusted two people with his hair, Uma, and Harriet. “alright then spin the bottle!” Harry sighed, he had a lot of work to do in the morning so drinking wasn’t the best idea so he took the bottle from Bonnie and spun it, mentally crossing his fingers that it would land on you.

You watched as the bottle spun around, pulling your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. You did want the bottle to land on you but at the same time you hoped it wouldn’t land on anybody so you wouldn’t be going behind Uma’s back or so Harry wouldn’t be kissing someone other than you or Uma.

You felt the heat climb up your face as the tip of the bottle landed directly on you, the crew whistling and cheering as you buried your face in your knees. “wooooooo come on you two! Get to the closet.” Harry glanced at you and while he really wanted to go into the closet with you, he felt bad as you had completely turned into a ball of embarrassment.

“come on guys she obviously-OI” Gonzo and Jonas grabbed Harry's arms, carrying him to the closet and tossing him in, Drey and Desiree grabbing your hands and tugging you in after him.

They closed the door behind you, Bonnie going the extra mile and locking the door “Have fun~ seven minutes!” Bonnie’s muffled voice yelled through the door before it went silent.

You pressed yourself into the wall and sunk to the floor, holding your face in your hands and pulling your knees to your face. “(y/n)?” Harry quietly asked, kneeling in front of you and cupping your face with his hand, pushing your chin up to make you look at him “are yeh okay?”

“I-I just-“ you buried your face again, if you looked at him anymore you would throw your moral compass out the window and just kiss him silly.

“do yeh not like meh?” he asked, feeling a pit form in his chest at the thought of you not liking him in ‘that’ way, he blinked in surprise as you shook your head and looked back up at him.

“no-its, not that, it’s more…I like you…like a lot…more than I should, a lot” you whispered, biting your lip as Harry stared at you, not noticing him glancing at your lips “but you’re with Uma and I don’t want to ruin anything between the two of you even if it's just a dumb game and I don’t want to ruin our friendship with my dumb feelings even though I just blurted out every-“ you were stopped by a soft pair of plush lips,  and in the dark of the closet you saw Harry very very close to your face, his eyes closed and hands gently cupping your jaw.

You decided to just let yourself enjoy the next seven minutes and closed your eyes, pressing back ever so gently back into Harry…your brain reminded you that Harry was your first kiss and you smiled, helluva first kiss if you did say so yourself.

Harry pulled back slowly and you fluttered open your eyes, biting your lip as Harry gave you a soft smile “yeh wouldn’t be ruining anything between Uma an’ I, we both like yeh and actually” Harry let out a nervous chuckle “we were goin’ ta ask yeh ta’ join our relationship a couple months ago but…Uma left before we could tell yeh…we were planning ta ask yeh the weekend that ended up filled with all the beasty boy stuff…” Harry hoped that you wouldn’t reject Uma, he loved both of you and he didn’t want to have to lose one to keep the other.

“I…Uma-“ you leaned forward, burying your face in Harry's shoulder “I like Uma too” you whispered into his shoulder, squeaking as Harry picked you up by your thighs and pushed you against the wall, his hips pressing into yours.

Harry smiled at you, pressing another kiss to your lips “good, we can have fun when she gets back okay?”

You whimpered into the kiss, nodding as he pulled back “okay” The two of you spent the next seven minutes exchanging kisses and feeling the room heat up as Harry continued to press his hips into yours.

You were soon interrupted by Bonnie yelling through the door “Times up you two!” Harry groaned and set you back on your feet, letting you hang on to him as you balanced on wobbly legs.

Harry knocked on the door, Bonnie quickly unlocked it at that and swung it open, giving the two of you a smug grin before her shoulders dropped

“oh come on it's like you didn’t do anything!” Harry rose his brow; he had bitten your neck and dry-humped you did it really seem like he did nothing? He turned to look at you, raising his brow as he realized you had quickly fixed yourself up and the only evidence to your heated time in the closet was your heated cheeks. “All right come on, Zhao’s on a dare right now and Gabe drank a shot”

You and Harry glanced at each other then back at the crew, walking out of the closet and taking your previous seats next to each other, Harry's arm now resting behind your back.

Things changed after that, the small conversations at night turned intimate, faces always close together and bodies touching, breath mingling, and Harry's lips pressing against your lips or neck every so often. Practicing knots went from sitting across from each other with Harry instructing you to you and Harry sitting so close your knees touched the inside of his thighs, his hands ever so gently guiding your fingers through the motions and his voice soft.

He started to pull you away at random moments to a hidden corner and curl himself around you, pressing his lips to yours with the others oblivious to your recent activities.

The two of you hadn't gotten to resume your session from the closet, leaving you frustrated and needy. You honestly just wanted Harry to ravish you until the sun came up.

What you didn’t know was that Harry was feeling the same way, frustration building in his body every time he looked at you, eyes burning into your lips and body, just wanting to drag you to his room and show you a whole new world. He thought of you every night, almost stomping to your room and taking you but holding himself back.

It was just getting too much for both of you, so one night, when Harry knew neither of you had anything to do the next day, snuck to your room and knocked gently on your door, not wanting any of the crew to hear knowing you wouldn’t want everyone to know your business.

“Harry?” you whispered, looking around the dark halls of the ship as Harry stared down at your lips, your body barely covered with only a loose shirt and some sweat pants “what's wrong? It's like, 2 am?” Harry leaned in and pressed his lips to yours passionately, curling his hands around your face and humming into it as you pressed back needingly.

He pulled back, just enough for your breath to mingle “darling” he purred, enjoying the way you squirmed at the tone of his voice “do yeh want to continue our little session from the closet?” he grinned as your eyes went wide and you nodded erratically. He pressed a quick kiss to your lips and grabbed your hand, pulling you out of your room and closing the door, the two of you sneaking back to his room.

That night was filled with heated kisses, whispered confessions, and bruised hips.

Everything changed again after that, the soft hidden kissed behind corners turned to heated make-outs, you still had soft kisses but more often than not it was passionate. You slept in Harry's room more often than not, not to have sex but simply because you liked being with him and him you. Your midnight talks being shoulder to shoulder turned to you being engulfed in Harry's arms and sitting between his legs as you talked about whatever you wanted. The practice tiring ropes became teasing, Harry sneaking kisses whenever he could

Harry went deeper into himself, and you learned almost everything from his favorite drink to his deepest fear, and he told you about Uma as well, letting you get to know her through another and you fell for both Uma and Harry more each day.

And you told him what you could, from your favorite color to your most embarrassing moment, it was…bliss, well as blissful a relationship could be on the isle.

About a year after the two of you got together, you watched as Harry and Gil dove through the barrier just as it was closing after the core four and Celia, messing with your bracelet nervously as you watched Gil and Harry fight with Carlos and Jay. Harry forced a blue gem out of Mal's hand and it soared over the water, Mal letting out a small scream before a turquoise tentacle reached up and caught it.

Your breath caught and you let a grin grow on your face “Uma” you whispered out, bouncing on your feet as Uma rose out the water, looking even more beautiful than the last time you saw her. Harry looked directly at you, the same feeling you had at seeing Uma swimming in his eyes.

Uma was back.

After Uma submerged into the water and sent a tunnel of water up and splashing the vks, she reappeared on the other side of the bridge, holding up the glowing gem Mal had been holding.

A few minutes of negotiating later, with Mal being stubborn as always, the vks were off to do whatever they were off to do, you didn’t know, the most you had heard was Mals muffled scream of ‘no’

Uma suddenly glanced back, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she looked at you. You gave her a grin and waved back, you guessed Harry had told her about the two of you and you hoped to hades that you would see them again and be able to kiss Uma finally.

-

Only a day later, in the early morning, Harry and Uma stepped into his room, Harry gesturing to his bed where you were sleeping curled up in one of his shirts and his blankets.

“aw,” Uma cooed, walking over to you and caressing your cheek, flinching back as your eyes snapped open and you sat up, a bright grin growing on your face as your vision refocused and you saw Uma.

“Uma~!” you squealed, launching yourself at her and tossing the two of you onto the ground, Uma chucking underneath you as her head was pinned to your shoulder. “you’re back!”

Harry smiled as you and Uma hugged on the floor “so Harry tells me you like both of us? And want to be with both of us?” Uma asked, sitting up with you in her lap.

Your face burned slightly but you nodded, smiling as Uma cupped your cheeks “good, but just so you know I will always choose sea ponies over both of you” you and Harry burst into laughter, a smile growing on Uma’s lips as she watched two of her three favorite people laugh.

“Harry already told me that part of the contract” you teased, leaning in and pecking Uma’s cheek, snickering as she froze and stared at you “what? I can’t kiss my girlfriend~?”

Harry chuckled and kneeled next to you and Uma, wrapping his arms around you and whispering in your ears “I think Uma’s bed is a bit better to fit all three of us eh?” you grinned, Uma’s face burning as she saw Harry wiggle his brows.

“I leave a virgin first mate and a shy oblivious crew member and come back to two horndogs…Christ remind me to never leave yall alone again”

“noted” you and Harry sang in unison, Uma laughing at it and shaking her head.

“Alright come on, let's go to my room.” you and Harry grinned, your arm going around Uma’s and grabbing onto her hand as Harry tossed his arm around her shoulder and the three of you walked into Uma’s room.

To which Uma was very VERY glad her room was soundproofed a long time ago.

-end-

side note with the smut, this was 50 pages and 15,676 words, without the smut its 32 pages and 9943 words which is still a lot but woza, like, 16 pages of the fic was dedicated to smut XD 

permtaglist

@queer-cosette @sephiralorange (thank you for beta reading the smutty version don worry ill link the full version lol) 

@lunanight2012 @daughter-of-the-stars11

@musicarose @rintheemolion

@jatp-rules-my-life @verboetoperee

@thecaptainsgingersnap @random-thoughts-003

@remembered-license @imtryingthisout

and because you asked me too since i used the crew names you created @askauradonprep​

[ct7567329]

Welcome Back: Fives x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Smut (18+ Please! I'll mark where it starts, so you can still enjoy the first half!)

Words: 2.5k

Corellia was dark as always. You hated this. As you strolled down the crowded street, you held your breath in disgust. The filth of the planet made you gag, but, you felt as if Corellia was the safest place to be. Crowded and disgusting, the opposite of what you liked. During the Clone Wars, post wars plans were frequently discussed among your men. You often found yourself thinking about the plans the men had. Rex wanted to be a farmer, Hardcase an actor for an action packed holovid, Jesse a dad, and Fives, well, Fives didn't care what he did, as long as those plans included you.

Before you could spiral too deep into those thoughts, you shook your head, attempting to clear your mind. Order 66 had ruined all of those plans for everyone, and two years later, you still couldn't fully process that.

As you continued down the street, you constantly glanced around for imperial stormtroopers. It felt as if as more time passed from the Jedi purge, your touch with the force faded. You could no longer simply "sense" people's presence without thinking too hard about it.

Roughly one hundred yards away from you was a small group of stormtroopers. Out of instinct,  you threw your hood over your head and tried to blend in as much as possible. As you got closer to the troopers, you ran your fingers along a soot covered bench and smeared it down your cheek, trying to disguise your facial features. On the rare chance any of those stormtroopers were clones, you could easily be recognized. The empire knew you were alive, and you didn't even want to think of the bounty over your head.

You wondered if any of troopers were clones. With there being only a few meters away from the soldiers, you glanced at them as any Corellian would. You felt one of the troopers eyes meet yours though his helmet momentarily. He watched you as you picked up your pace though the crowd, the slow turning motion of this head indicating this. After a minute or so of your quicken pace, you felt as if you were a good enough distance away from the solider that made eye contact with you. You paused and slid into an alley located only a few blocks from the run down apartment complex you call home. You sat on an empty crate and sighed, pulling your hood down. The last time you felt that stare was two tears ago.

Just like the last locked gaze you shared with Fives.

That last glance.

He was shooting at you. Through his helmet, you could sense his tears. Fives didn't want to hurt you, and you knew that. But, he had no other choice. You remember clenching your jaw, holding back tears. There was no escaping with him. You leapt from the building you were in and ran. You ran as far as you could. Far from Fives. Far from your life. Far from everything. Everything you knew was gone.

All you could ever wish for is that forever lasting nightmare to stop replaying in your head every time you saw a stormtrooper. But, that was a hopeless wish.

You ran your soot covered fingers through your hair and sighed. Just as you were about to stand up, the stormtrooper you locked eyes with was standing at the alley entrance, his blaster held lazily as his side. Figuring it was just a routine check, you began to reach for the identification card in your pocket. It was forged of course, but it always seemed to check out with the troopers. The trooper still hasn't spoken when you extended your arm, showing him your identification. His helmet tilted downwards as he read the name.

He chuckled, "Arilani Forrest? Creative!"

"No one has ever called me creative before," you mumbled, "but I best be on my way. I have a shift at the mining yard soon."

"Oh really?" his voice perked up, "would have never imagined you doing that." He began to walk towards you, forcing you to walk deeper into the alley.

You shrugged, "It was the best work I could get. Anything to better the empire." You HATED saying those words, "I'm honored to work for such a great-"

The trooper took off his hemet, making you stop mid-sentence. No wonder that glance felt familiar. It really was Fives.

Anger and passion fought within you as you stared blankly at him. Then fear hit. Quickly, you took a few steps back.

"Get away from me," you spit out.

Fives' smile turned to a frown, "Cyare, let me explain."

"You tried to kill me! You probably still are! And you just expect me to listen to you? To let my guard down and listen to the man who captured my heart and tear it to shreds?!"

"Don't act like that day was any harder for you as it was for me," he begged, stepping towards you, putting his blaster on the ground. "Remember Tup? I took that stupid chip out after that. That's why I cut my hair. I had to keep that a secret. For my safety, for your safety, for our safety!"

"Why should I trust you?" you murmured, trying to hold back tears.

Fives gave you a sympathetic smile, "Because you always used to tell me that I was the best shot in the 501st. You told me that there wasn't a single target I couldn't miss. If you really meant that, then why did I miss every shot I made at you. I wasn't even close. I was never shooting at you. If I didn't follow the order, I would have been killed right then and there. I knew you were capable of surviving. That's why I followed everyone else, knowing you would escape, hoping one day I could find you!" his smile grew, "it took two, long, excruciating years but you're here!"

You were quivering. As he stared at you, awaiting your response, you closed your eyes and exhaled, channeling the force. You came within arms length of him and placed your hands on the side of his head. Your heart skipped a beat at the touch. As you let the force speak to you, you soon came to realize he wasn't lying. There was no chip in his head. You let your arms fall to his neck as you pulled him close to you, your slow tears making his under armor around his neck wet.

His strong arms wrapped around your waist and pressed your body against his. The crappy armor felt uncomfortable on your cheek but you didn't mind. Fives twirled your hair around one of his fingers, the other hand stroking your back. The only reason why he "stayed loyal to the empire" was for this moment, no matter how long he had to wait for it.

Fives released your hair from his fingers and placed his hand on your chin, angling your face towards his. He took his glove off, exposing a clean hand, which he used to rub the soot off you cheek.

"Still as beautiful as ever," he murmured, studying your face as if he would never see it again.

"Fives, I-"

You were interrupted by his com link. He quickly threw his helmet and answered, explaining that he was simply doing identification checks, and he would report back soon. As soon as he ended the conversation, he took his helmet off and chucked in a nearby dumpster.

"I don't want to be a stormtrooper anymore," he sighed, his hands placed on your upper arms. "Please, get me out of here. They don't need me anymore."

You let out a small laugh, "While it will be a loss to the empire, let's get you, or, us, out of this nightmare."

The dark clouds over the Corellian sky finally began to give way, polluted rain hitting every surface. Rain on Corellia was vile, but in that moment, eyes locked with Fives, it didn't matter. He took off the rest of his armor and put it in the same dumpster as his helmet.

Digging through the trash, you found a battered cloak and threw it over him. "This will help you not stand out. I think the imperial logo on your shirt will give a little too much away. But let's get going. The rain is clearing out the streets."

He nodded in agreement and followed you to your apartment building. As you entered the elevator with him, you noticed he had a look of disgust.

"What?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Fives shook his head, "would have never expected someone like you to live somewhere so disgusting."

"Exactly. That's why I'm here. You don't get options when the empire is out to kill you," you explained as you unlocked the front door.

The apartment was smaller than Fives expected. He thought the 501st barracks were nicer than your apartment, which was clearly saying something.  He glanced to his right and watched you take off your robes, revealing an outfit similar to the one you wore during the Clone Wars. As much as he loved it, he hated it. He hated knowing that every other man in the GAR would stare at the way it hugged your body, making you look far better than any model on the holonet. But, he loved knowing that you were all his.

"Yes?" you laughed, catching Fives staring at you in awe.

Fives swallowed hard, nodding, "Just looking at the most beautiful thing in the galaxy."  He slowly walked towards you and pressed his lips against the side of your ear, "we have two years of catching up to do."

Smirking, you hopped up to sit on your kitchen counter, "723 standard rotations to be exact," you winked, playfully grabbing his hands.

His forehead met yours as he whispered, "I think I forgot how it feels to kiss you and cyar'ika, I've thought about it every day."

SMUT INCOMING

"Then what are you waiting for," you lustfully groaned into his ear.

That was all he needed to hear. Before you had the chance to take another breath, his lips were on yours, filling your body with a euphoria you haven't felt since the order. It felt as if no time passed at all, he still had every square inch of your mouth memorized. Fives put his hands on your ass, pushing your hips into his, you both instantly feeling the heat coming from the other.

"We need to get you off this counter," he groaned, nibbling on your lower lip. You moaned something inaudible in response as he picked you up and shoved your body onto the nearby couch. Straddling over you, he took a moment to stare at the sight. He longed for the day he could see you under him again.

As Fives grinded his hips against yours, you couldn't help but notice the growth in his blacks on the brink of busting open the cheap fabric. Your hands made their way to his waistband, which you didn't hesitate to pull down, exposing a fully erect Fives. The sight alone was enough to push you over the edge.

"Like what you see?" he smirked, taking the rest of his bottoms off and tossing them across the room. But before you could respond, he pressed a finger against your lips, "Now this isn't fair is it?" he wined, tugging at the hem of your shirt. In one swift motion, your shirt and bra was next to his discarded pants. Still straddled over you, fully exposed, he gawked at the sight in front of him. As he was in la la land, you pulled his shirt over his head, revealing the same toned body that made your knees weak when you first met him. You reached up to touch his left peck, running your fingers down his chest.

"Oh my handsome ARC," you whispered, tracing the outline of his abs. Two years later, pulling rank still sent him over the edge.

"That's it," he groaned, pressing his chest against yours and grinding hander into your hips. You were gasping his name with every push, which only made him push harder. Fives slipped his fingers into your pants and softly ran his index finger up your soaked clit. He pulled his finger out, your moan being music to his ears, and licked his finger dry. Fives knew damn well he was driving you up the wall, and had no plans on stopping.

You quivered at Fives' touch, and pulled the rest of your clothes off. Fives collapsed his body onto yours, the sensation of full skin to skin contact making his body tremor. As you both laid there motionless, taking in the moment, his throbbing cock kept poking at your entrance.

"Fives," you groaned, knowing you didn't even need to finish your sentence.

Slowly, he pushed the tip of his cock into you, listening to you moan under the pressure. As Fives pushed in further, his eyes rolled to the back of his head. He steadily thrusted in and out, giving you enough time to adjust to his size. Every next thrust came faster and harder. Your jaw was clenched as you groaned, trying to hold back the orgasm.

"I know you're close cyare," he said between thrusts, "where do you want it?"

Breathing heavily, you put your hands on Fives' lower back, preventing him to pull out for another thrust, "The damn war is over and we can finally live our dreams," you gasped for air, "it's a risk we can now take." You let go of his back and he continued to pump into you. As soon as you felt as if he was on the verge of splitting you right up the middle, you let out a loud moan as your walls clenched around his cock, which was simultaneously, filling you up. Fives laid down on top of you, still inside you, as you both rode out your orgasms.

"Fives," you panted, running your fingers through his hair. He smiled and shut his eyes, placing his head on your chest, listening to your rapid heartbeat.

"Oh maker, I love you," he wined, nuzzling his head into your neck. He slid his softening cock out of you and got up, grabbing a blanket from across the room. You stared at his naked body, shining with the sweat you two just created. It was like staring at an ancient god. He laid the blanket over you and sat down, pulling you onto his chest.

"Welcome back my love," you smiled, tracing your finger on his chest.

"Hope I wasn't gone too long," he winked, watching you fall asleep in his arms.

It took two years, but finally, the post war dreams you shared were finally coming true.

JOIN MY TAGLIST

@ganondorf-has-greasy-balls @lightning-wolffe @jedi-dreea @hannahjessica113 @gryffindorqueensworld @000ayfh @soclonely @peacelandbread @persaloodles @coffeeandtodd @raf-loves-everything @ahsoka-padme @dangerdumpling @callme-eds @808tsuika @ahsokatano-thetogruta @clone-lover501-212-104 @marvel-starwars-nerd @katelynnwrites @skylerrae-solo @youmaynowdothething @pinkiemme @thegirlwhosesilencespeaksloudest @horsegirl4561 @simping-for-fives @lowkeyodinsong @starrdvstkenobi

[winchesterxxi]

To Make you Mine (Din Djarin x Reader)

Rating: PG-13

Type: Fluff

Summary: Din got the darksaber and as we know he can’t yield it to Bo Katan, it needs to be won in a fight. He doesn’t want the darksaber to land in Bo’s hands because she doesn’t sit right with him, so he suggests you take it, along with an interesting proposal

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: CH.16 SPOILERS, graphical descriptions of violence, mentions of blood, implications of sex

A/N: This idea came to me in one of my many maladaptative daydreaming moments a few weeks ago so bear with me

MASTERPOST | REQUEST HERE | KO-FI

✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸

You were trying to find a sense of normality.

After yours and Din’s life had been turned upside down just the week before, with losing your home and giving away your kid all in less than a couple of days, you had to go somewhere and deal with things. And you knew the Mandalorian by your side would never willingly take a single day off.

But with the help of a newly acquired ally, who also happens to have become the newest leader of Jabba’s Palace, Boba Fett, you managed to get in the possession of a small A-47 Airspeeder. Having a friend feared by all of Tatooine had its advantages.

You flew the fighter to what you knew to be a safe place to rest, across the galaxy: the forest moon of Endor.

You landed three days ago, and you and Din have been living a nomad life, using the ship to sleep in and igniting fire every day and night to cook and keep yourselves warm. You could’ve easily settled on a planet with a more hospitality feel to it; staying in an inn. But you knew this is what you both needed – fresh air away from everyone.

Despite Din’s way of dealing with the past events was to either cry alone or keep quiet, you always found intense physical activity the best way to blow off some steam. Tragic events had a way of making you angry, and this is the coping mechanism you found.

Slipping out of the small cot in which you were pressed against Din’s chest, you get some sturdier clothes on and get out of the ship, and run in big circles until you feel tired.

Once you were in your 15th lap, you couldn’t really tell anymore at this point, Din descends from the ship, full armor on which catches your eye.

“What’s wrong?” you yell so that he can hear you from how far you are.

From where he stands, he simply motions you to come closer with his left hand. You stop running and head in his direction instead, regaining your breath.

“What’s so important, you couldn’t wait for me to run my laps?” you question him, letting your hair loosen itself from the tight ponytail in which you had put it in to prevent it from getting in your way.

“I was thinking about something, and I’ve come to a decision.” His modulated voice explains calmly.

“Okay… and what decision have you exactly come to?”

“I don’t want the dark saber.”

“Yeah, you made that pretty clear to everyone three days ago.” you frown up at him, not understanding where the conversation was going.

“And I don’t trust Bo Katan.” You nod along, following his words.

“I want you to have it.”

You almost choke on your own spit when he communicates his decision to you, completely aloof as to why he would’ve thought of such a stupid thing.

“Are you out of your kriffing mind?!” you practically yell at him, waving your hands in the air, striding away from him to calm yourself down. You take a deep breath before turning to face him, still a few feet away. “What in the galaxy makes you think that I would ever do that?! Plus, you do remember that if I were to get that thing,” you gesture to his right hand, which has since reached for the dark saber “we would have to fight over it. As in, beat each other up.”

Din doesn’t dare to get closer to you, simply talking from where he is standing.

“It’s not a thing, it’s the single most powerful weapon in all of the Mandalorian history and yes, I do know that.” His helmet nods down and you finally connect the dots as to why he was in full armor when there was virtually no one on this moon besides the both of you. You sigh and your shoulders lower. You can’t believe that you’re actually considering this, hand coming up to press against your forehead.

“What’s in it for me besides the pain in the ass of having to rule all the Mandalorians in the galaxy?”

“I’ll marry you.” Once again your body as if goes into shock, stiffening up every possible muscle and your eyes widening.

“You -…” you stop yourself, before you scream, quickly striding over to him “You’ll what now?”

“If you can win the dark saber, I’ll marry you, you’ll become part of my clan, you’ll become a Mandalorian, and no other will be able to oppose you as their ruler.”

If before your heart was beating faster than ever with a mix of rage, confusion, and just overall annoyance, it has now sunk to the bottom of your stomach.

You and Din shared a connection beyond words, having spent countless nights together, both in union acting as guardians to Grogu and if anything ever happened to him you know you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself. So many were the times when you thought you’d lose him for the crazy stunts he has pulled to save the people he loves.

It was a love that didn’t need to be spoken, rather felt or shown, but now you weren’t so sure it was reciprocated as his answer bore a purely practical solution to a problem. Not a declaration in any way.

“Oh… Yeah, that makes sense.” You can’t hide the way your body slouched slightly and your face dropped at his answer. Din walks over to you, his chest tight at the words that he wants to say to you.

“And…” He places his free gloved hand upon your cheek, causing you to look up and meet his hidden gaze. If you could see through the dark visor of his helmet you would you could see the gentle smile that made his eyes crinkle at the corners as he looked adoringly at you, maybe soon “obviously, because I love you, mesh’la.”

You take a quiet breath in as your heart skips a beat at his confession. The words he’s wanted to say to you for so long and that you have longed to listen to for longer than you’d care to admit.

“I’ve lost too many things in my life, and if there is the chance for me to take you like a piece of myself for the rest of my life, I’m going to take it.” He brings his helmet down to meet your forehead and you take a deep breath before stepping backward and away from him, crouching down into a fighting stance, as you bring your hands up to be close to your face, closing them into two fists.

“Are you sure?”  You ask “What if I hurt you?”

“Give me your best.” Is all he says, igniting the saber at the same time as he reaches for the spear lodged in the back of his cape and throwing it in the direction of your chest. You grab it before it falls to the floor, handling it the way you had been instructed all those months ago when you insisted the man standing in front of you to teach you to defend yourself. “I know I’ve taught you well.”

The corner of your mouth lifts in a smile and you speed up to where he is, bringing the beskar speer down to meet the saber’s glowing blade as the sound of the clash echoes around you.

You breathe in before moving the spear to try and strike him from a different angle, moving forward as he backs away at the same time, grunting at the effort, all possible friendliness within the combat having completely flow away.

Once you finally think you have a good aim, he steps out of your trajectory, causing you to stumble forward with the momentum of the blow you were about to deliver.

“Think before striking, Y/n. We’ve done this before!” his voice comes heavy and sharp through the modulator in his helmet. Turning back at him, you are panting before running back to him, lifting your spear as if to strike him, but as his blade goes up to meet your weapon you slump below it and turn back, immediately hitting him on his defenseless back, in between the beskar plates.

He groans in pain and stumbles forward.

“Faster, Din. We’ve done this before.” You mock his earlier statement, smirking at him.

Oh. The man is pissed off. You can’t see his face, but having known him for so long you can tell by his body language that he is no longer padding around the playground. He means business.

He charges at you full force, but you block his blow with your spear, rotating and pushing it away from you at the same time, both of your weapons fly to the side.

You both look at the weapons, before looking at each other in sync, knowing exactly that you were going to try and go for the saber.

Din runs from you but you quickly catch up to him, advantages of him being in full beskar armor, weighing down on him and you only sporting some training clothes. You throw one of your legs around his waist and the other over his shoulder, rotating with his neck in the center so that you’re in front of him, and you pull your body weight to the side, bringing his own down with you.

You both fall to the ground with a heavy thud, his side crushing the leg that landed under him as you let out a cry. But you fight through the pain as you look to your side and notice that the place you are is only a few feet away from where the weapons landed. Holding him in a chuck hold with your legs, you hastily reach for the saber’s handle and switch yourself from underneath him, straddling his chest and holding the blade dangerously close to his throat.

You are both heavily breathing, you visibly sweating and his grip on you loosens as he holds his hands close to his face, surrendering.

You shakily exhale as a smile makes its way onto your lips and you nod in amusement, standing up from where you were.

Looking down at your lover, you extend him your free hand, which he takes as you pull him up to your level. He hovers over you as your right-hand turns the dark saber off, both chests still heaving up and down.

He brings his forehead down, shoulders slouching as he bows to the new Mand’alor.

“Ner alor.” My leader. “Mand’alor.” Sole Ruler.

You smile up at him once he straightens back to his full height.

“Now,” you grin with your tongue in peeking behind your teeth, and hanging the dark saber’s handle to your belt “If I remember correctly, I heard something about getting married... am I correct, my loyal subject?”

You walk slowly up to him, swaying your hips in the course.

His arms come to rest upon your waist, his voice letting out an amused hum and you just know he is smiling like an idiot underneath the beskar.

“And if I remember correctly, according to the Creed, that means that all this…” you tap with your pointer finger on the beskar of his helmet, chest and arms finalizing with a light tap of your nail against his crotch protection “gets to come off. Right?”

His grip on your waist tightens.

“Let’s go inside to find out.”

✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸

PEDRITO TAGLIST

@weirdowithnobeardo

✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸

Want a completely personalized imagine just for you? Click here!

[shotorozu]

“you didn’t think getting a classmate thrown at you would cause you to choke in silence— and by some miracle, todoroki is the first one to catch on.”

legend : [Y/N = your name] f!reader with they/them pronouns, all might’s daughter reader, reader has a telekinesis quirk

warnings : swearing because of bakugou, choking, if you ever hit your windpipe and you start choking, get help right away!

notes : i’m trying a new format for fics! (and drabbles) idk why i’m going on a todoroki dump lately, it’s his birthday after all. ALSO I WAS ALMOST DONE BUT GRRR TUMBLR RELOADED. i was so mad lol. so i don’t really like this but DONT WORRY!! i’m making another fic.

»»————-　♡　————-«

It’s been almost 4 months since your first year at UA had started, and you’d think by now— you would’ve gotten used to all the hectic things that had to come.

Nope, not in the slightest bit.

Though you do love the class, and you enjoy being around them since they all seem like nice people, (minus one person) the class itself goes haywire with their frenzied energies.

Sometimes you wonder if you’re able to keep up with them, since they all have such excentric and unique personalities. They somehow manage to keep the room’s atmosphere lifted up with their voices, that are accompanied by lighthearted jokes.

But today, it seemed to be out of your favor.

You’re in your seat, recalling what your father— All Might, had said about your progression, and how he planned on helping you work with your quirk more.

Needless to say, you’re quite delighted to hear that your father wants to pay more attention to you, since he was mostly just focusing on Midoriya.

But your train of thought is cut short when you see Mineta fly towards your way, practically knocking into your entire front, and jamming into your windpipe— as it bounces from you and towards the wall.

“Damn grape fruit, learn some fucking decency for once,” You can hear Bakugou call out to him, and you can assume it was him that decided to throw your classmate at you

“Sorry, Y/N!” Kirishima calls out to you, noticing how his hot headed friend chucked the short, and purple haired classmate towards your direction.

You try to play it off cool, since you can’t even be mad. Even though Bakugou’s quite a spiteful person, he probably didn’t mean to throw Mineta at you.

Your seatmate, Todoroki looks at you as if like he was analysizing you. His mismatched gaze locked onto you with concern, I mean.. how could he not? Mineta has been thrown on you.

The air escapes you for a moment, and you try to breathe in to counter it. But it doesn’t work, as it became futile.

You blink, and you try again— trying your best to just breathe damnit, you’re questioning what’s all of this for? And it feels like you’re suffocating.

It’s all very sudden too, and without any warning. You can practically the way your heart hammers against your chest violently, and you try your best to not make too many movements. Okay, just breathe Y/N, am I having an attack right now? It really can’t be, can it?

You grasp your chair as you need something to grip on— facing yourself away to prevent any attention to be drawn towards you, since that’s the last thing you want. Every second that passes, it gets even more difficult to take in the air, and it feels like your life actually slipping away from your grasps.

Was it even possible to choke from getting your windpipe hit by Mineta? You never thought it would happen to you, since your quirk allows you to protect yourself— curses. What would your dad think of this? It’s not like you expected this to happen in a classroom.

A calm voice breaks you out of your thoughts, and suddenly you feel a cool hand press against your nape— “Did you hurt your windpipe, L/N?”

Todoroki’s eyes scan over your facial features calmly, noting about every single red flag that’s shown on your face, that’s practically screaming for something

You feel shame course out your entire body due to the situation, but you nod— still unable to accumulate proper words due to the current situation

The dual quirk user says nothing. However, his actions are quick, moving infront of you to shield you from any attention. His other hand resting against your back— proping you up right, so your position on the chair isn’t hunched uncomfortably.

His hand caresses your back up and down, giving out instructions for your labored breathing— “Breathe in,” he commands calmly, activating his quirk in hopes of aiding you “Breathe out,”

You finally manage to get in some air, inhaling through your mouth, and sharply exhaling the air back out. It feels so good to be able to breathe again, and you’re confident that after this— you won’t take it for granted again.

Unfortunately, the situation hadn’t been discreet enough— as it managed to grasp the attention of Midoriya and Yaoyorozu, they crowd at your desk. Asking Todoroki if there’s an issue, concern lacing their tones.

But you’re overwhelmed, eyes threatening to close. Your body slumping against your desk, and you fall unconscious.

—

It was interesting describing the situation to Recovery Girl, and also to your father.

All Might being concerned was an understatement. He was concerned about how it happened, and how he could’ve prevented the situation if he was there. (But he’s not to blame, at all.)

Briefly after you fell unconscious, attention was gravitated towards you— as everyone was clearly concerned. Then, you were dragged to Recovery Girl by two of your classmates; Kirishima and Midoriya, since Midoriya couldn’t stop rambling about his concern towards you.

“Your windpipe got hit, and the impact blocked it.” Recovery Girl explains, briefly after using her quirk on you “And it appeared to be that you’ve gotten the wind knocked out of you. Good grief, who throws people in classrooms? I could give them a scolding right now.” Recovery Girl rants.

You wince at the problem, “Ah.. there’s no need for that. I’d suppose it’s partially my fault for having my guard down.” You grin, but she doesn’t look amused.

Recovery Girl can only sigh, placing a hand on your shoulder. It’s her way of comfort, you’d guess. “Either way, it was still careless of them. I’d go on and on, but for now, you just need to rest right here— you were overwhelmed back there so it’s important to get some rest.”

Recovery Girl’s partially right. So after resting for a little bit longer, you finally leave the infirmary. But you flinch in surprise; a little startled when you meet Todoroki— who’s leaning right behind the door.

“Ah, Todoroki,” You wave at him, and.. you honestly don’t know where to start. Especially after the classroom situation. “I want to apologize about what happened back there. You didn’t need to do that.”

He shakes his head, “It’s alright, L/N. It’s.. what I had to do anyway.” His brows furrow, remembering what happened back in the classroom.

“Besides that.. are you okay? You didn’t damage your throat, did you?”

You laugh, and it may or may not have been in attempt to make the situation light hearted. “My windpipe got blocked, and apparently, I got the wind knocked right out of me! I didn’t know there was an actual name for that! I should really be cautious next time.”

His lips turn up, and he releases a short chuckle— “I suppose it’s a learning lesson for both parties.”

The walk back is.. rather shameful. How were you supposed to go back there, almost as if you didn’t nearly die? choked? The lack of conversation is painful on your ears, and partially on your ego since the silence is almost awkward.

You don’t know what he’s thinking.

“So!” You decide to break the silence, heterochromatic eyes laid on you as he awaited your response. “What do you mean by.. both parties?”

“Well.. you did say you wanted to be cautious more. Which I get, even though you shouldn’t be that cautious in the first place— since it’s not your fault,” Todoroki stares at his feet momentarily, finding his words.

“And both parties because.. I should’ve asked you if you were okay when I saw Mineta get thrown at you,” His expression crumples up, grimacing when he suddenly remembers that exact moment, he should’ve helped them. “I noticed you were choking a little too late.” He mutters.

Like.. how can he stare at you all the time, and just suddenly not notice you choke?

Your feet stop in it’s place, and you shake your head— “You’re so hard on yourself,” you comment, looking up at the ceilings. “Again, it’s not your fault. I was trying to be discrete— y’know!”

“I don’t want you to feel like you should hide anything from me.” He tilts his head to the side, eyes boring into your own.

Blinking, you think over his words— “I’ll keep that in mind.” You’re taken a back by the bluntness in his tone,

“Anyways, thank you, Todoroki. I.. wish I could pay you back somehow.” You pat him on the back, his heart hammering against his chest when you lean in to do so. It’s doing that again.

You turn your back against him, as you start walking even closer to the classroom— and before you can have your hand on the door, he calls out.

“Shouto.”

“..What?” You ask, unsure if you heard him correctly.

“You can start by calling me that,” He offers you one of his one of a kind smiles, something that feels so genuine— full of authentic gratification.

An uncontrollable smile breaks through your face, and you immediately turn away to hide away the flustered expression that is your current state “If you say so.”

Choking in class because someone was thrown at you is definitely not your proudest moment as Y/N Yagi, but.. you’ve definitely gotten something out of it.

Shouto speaks once again. “Oh and.. why wouldn’t I help you? That’s just watching someone die.”

You wince, realizing that Shouto’s correct. Why wouldn’t he help you?

bonus : mineta got flamed by everyone afterwards— including a serious talk from recovery girl, and all might. even though it wasn’t inheritantly his fault that you almost died in class lol

»»————-　♡　————-«

tldr : Y/N gets folded by mineta bc bakugou threw him at you by accident,

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing.

do not plagiarize my work :))

[nocluewhatsupg]

Slashers’ reactions to you living in their vents

one of the mods got a very rare disease don’t google it you won’t get answers but if he doesn’t see some fresh slasher tiddie in the upcoming collector film he’s gonna fucking die

Michael Myers

Crouched near the cold vent opening, you peer up at the tall man. Michael paused the violent daydreaming he was doing to tilt his head slightly down, and stare right back at you. This continues for a good while, as the sunlit common room bustled with life around the two of you.

He’s chill about it. Probably because he simply believed Loomis got his medication confused and he was tripping balls or something. Had quietly entertained the idea of escaping through your impressive vents, but he’d never fit. It was much funner to smash heads into doors than stealthing around anyway.

Pins a blanket over the vent opening in his cell just in case. Hypocrite.

Since he couldn’t get to you, and snap you in half, he begrudgingly allowed you to exist in his presence. You found him such a curious inmate, and since he hadn’t tried to tear your spine from your body, you hung around. Any conversation you had was one sided, and he didn’t play along with your suggestion of “blink twice for yes, three times for no”. He accepted any gifts you’d give him, especially candy your nimble hands took from the cafeteria. They were gifts, even if he’d violently kick your vent until you handed them over.

Michael would simply wait until your excitement died down and you realize he wasn’t anything more interesting than a cardboard box. Nothing you said got a reaction out of him, no matter how hard you tried. Even when you dramatically proclaimed your love to him through his cell’s vent, on a beautiful night, he did nothing but pin a blanket over the opening and returned to sleeping with gentle moonlight pouring over him.

When he stages his escape, you stayed in your vents, and you were forced to retreat deep inside the building as he tore open the cover and stuck his arm inside. Looks like all the time you’d spent together never mattered to him, and he didn’t even bother to ensure your death. You’d be waiting for him when he came back, and you finally remembered how cold the damn vents really were.

Jason Voorhees

He is baffled you found a vent in the middle of the woods in the first place.

It was discarded, fallen from a construction van that had driven through the area, and wasn’t missed. From there, nature took its course, short brown mushrooms and elegant green moss covering the artificial silver. Insects burrowed underneath, and lizards enjoyed both the heat and the shade it provided.

Jason doesn’t break a sweat dislodging the vent (and you) from the ground and hoisting it high above his head. The sharp scent of fresh dirt was the last thing you smelled before he violently chucked you directly into the lake <3.

Brahms Heelshire

He got a new nanny, stared at their attractive appearance for one glorious day, then watched them vanish overnight.

With panic, he tore the house upside down searching for them, calling with every voice he could produce, but he found no one but rats.

Dust had clawed at your throat when you stepped into the hollow walls. It became apparent fast someone lived in them, newspaper clippings and disturbing little notes scattered throughout the passages. Through the carved out eyes of paintings hung on the wall, you followed a tall, masked man around the mansion. World’s most bizzare tour.

The longer you watched, the more your terrified expression melted to a mild understanding. The child’s calls drew for you a perfect picture; he was lonely. He must’ve stared from these very walls at other folks for years, dreaming of being out there with them, laughing and dancing. He was outcasted, and what could’ve been an extravagant, luxurious life became one of solitary and strain. Something unjustly tore that life from him, and he was forced to stomach the repercussions alone.

On the other hand, his brown hair was long and greasy. His clothes had holes. He was a visibly grown man making a child’s voice. What the fuck are you doing get out of there he’s going to fucking kill you and if he gains popularity he’s going to be turned into an even shittier bootleg Annabell movie.

Out of sheer luck, you managed to live along side him. He too walks in the walls as you do, but you were careful to keep yourself away from him. The way you got away with what you did was probably because he wasn’t actively looking for you, as even the smallest effort would lead him to spot you. You ate as he did, slept as he did, went through all sorts of noise producing actions as he did. You noticed how he lived, and mimicked it.

Of course, you didn’t really want to live like this. It was bizzare, but you felt as if you’d dug yourself into a hole too deep. If you showed yourself, you feared the worst. Or maybe you enjoyed this strange lifestyle, to each their own.

When Malcom came with supplies, he didn’t seem to mind the empty house. He lingered in the mansion occasionally, until the burn of both your gaze and Brahms’ gaze made him leave with the hairs on his neck standing up. You knew Brahms watched from the opposite wall that you were in, as you knew where the holes were, and you could occasionally see a flash of his white mask.

Brahms left the walls occasionally, and you eventually realised he followed a schedule, each step posted on the insides of the walls. His excursions were very brief, only when he had to make something happen outside, like eating or setting music. Then he retreated to the walls.

The more you watched, the more hesitant you became to outing yourself to him. You learned a lot about him, and the top thing that you noticed was that he was a grade A nutcase. Everything he did, even the simple things, were alien to a normal person’s train of thought. So you watched, and waited, gathering information to produce the best possible answer. Embrace the odd life, confront him, or quietly run?

As he often did, Brahms ate the last of the food during breakfast. He had no reason to spare, but you knew he ate more that usual on these days. It would take him a while to exit the kitchen, as you knew he liked to loiter and watch the rain splatter on the kitchen windows. This, along with the fact that Malcom would be arrving around noon, made today the best possible day to put your plan into action. You knew the kitchen door was unlocked, and the garden had a thick maze you could hide in. Not even once did it cross your mind how odd it was that you knew so much from watching a man, and if you had thought of that, you’d worry for your sanity.

Instead of the trap door Brahms took, which was settled on the ceiling of the kitchen, you took a slightly longer route. Your route, through a lose piece of wall in the living room, allowed for good stealth. As you reached your exit, you anxiously wondered how he’d react. You wondered if it would be odd that you’d stayed for so long. The lavish living room had the lingering smell of a put out fire, and the tap of raindrops masked your footsteps as you tiptoed to the kitchen.

Old habits died hard, and you paused at the arched opening leading to the kitchen, peeking your head out to watch him. It was then, as Brahms dug through a cabnet, that you realised that one thing slipped by your infinite wisdom. You hadn’t thought of the best way to confront him. What to say, where to be, what to do. You fought to settle your nervous breath from growing in volume, gripped the wooden pillar you hid behind, and gave a quick prayer.

He didn’t notice you step out into the opening, as your hands twisted your shirt anxiously. It was only when you set your foot on a loose floorboard, and the creak echoed loud, did he snap his head up. It was difficult to tell if he recognized you through the dust that settled on your face, and you had no idea what emotion was painted on his. Brahms stood quiet as you decided the best thing to do was introduce yourself, and shakily, you did.

After the shock of learning of your existance settled, he did something all your watching could never have prepared you for. He skipped right over why, or how you were living here all these months. What brought you to the Heelshire mansion bored him. No, he instead scolded you. He snapped at how irresponsible you were, hiding from him, neglecting your duty.

Then he did something you predicted. He grew angry. Brahms slammed his fist on the table, and shouted for your explanation. He mocked you as you stumbled for an answer. When what you did say didn’t satisfy him, he pulled a knife from the fat block sitting on the counter. Nothing you could’ve said would’ve worked for him, and even if something did, he would pretend that it didn’t.

It was a little past mid day, a frightened glance to the clock told you. He slept in, and so did you. The clock wasn’t your priority at the moment, as Brahms didn’t care for the fear in your eyes and decided to advance. With adrenaline making your heart go twice as fast, and the thought of your blood gushing on the tiled floor making your mind go blank, the first words that came from your mouth you didn’t even think through.

Giving him a taste of his own medicine, you scolded him right back. It was past noon, and the schedule stated that he had things to do that he neglected. To your amazement, he froze, and you drew more strength into your words. There were things that still had to be done, how dare he neglect that too. You kept your head as high as you could, turning your terrified expression into a disappointed glare, and he stopped. To your command, he dropped the knife, and it clattered to the floor. When you told him to, he shuffled back around and continued eating, occasionally glancing over his shoulder. If he had a tail, it’d be curled weakly between his legs.

You felt like you were going to pass out. You thanked whatever higher being you believed in for that stroke of intelligence. Of course, Brahms didn’t offer you any of his meal, but you didn’t care. You had him under control, at least for now. Patiently, you waited for him to finish, keeping your guard and your confidence way high. The schedule would be followed, and you’d see just what you could get away with. This bizzare predicament could actually work out in your favor.

Billy Lenz

Hey, he thought of doing it first! Dirty copycat. What are you going to do now, get a buddy and start calling people and playing jeopardy with them before you murder them?? Turn this serious and deep genre of film into meta satire???

He’s as surprised as you to see you crawling around in the attic. You might even get a chance to explain yourself before he murders you.

You better start explaining, especially since he’d seen you downstairs, chatting with the other members of the house naturally.

With the charm that got you into that house in the first place, you carefully explain how you didn’t really technically live in the house. How you never technically joined the college, and never technically applied to be part of the house.

Okay, neat. So basically what he’s doing, minus the socialization. Wow. Aren’t you so creative. When he began to give you a strange look, you gave him a quirky little salute, and evacuated the attic as fast as you could.

He lingered in your mind as you ate dinner that didn’t belong to you, visible fear in your expression. You stared at the cracks in the ceiling, and swore you could see the whites of his eyes gleaming in the black darkness. It horrified you, how he was you, but incredibly mentally unstable.

To prove how upset he was at your existence, he strangled your roommate that night, as they slept only feet away from you. You awoke to a cold, clammy corpse, that you stared at in horror.

With guilt fresh on your expression, you abandoned the body quietly. You pried the window in the room open, then threw the pillows and blankets from your bed to mimic a fight. When another housemate discovered the corpse, their alarmed shouts warned you to seek refuge in the attic. It was there that you mulled over the pickle you’d found yourself in, an irrational, impulsive decision leaving your future grim.

Billy wasn’t content with finding you in the attic again. Between fighting his clawing hands, you desperately tried to convey how your lives are now entwined, whether he likes it or not. If you were caught, you explained through gritted teeth, you’d bring him down with you. Of course, he could simply kill you and dodge the more difficult option, so you’d better keep talking sweet if you wanted to live. He had nothing to gain from befriending you, but you had everything to lose.

In the end, you had to give up more than you were comfortable giving a psychotic, attic dwelling stranger. You promised yourself you’d get worse in jail. Maybe he didn’t care about what you feverishly promised. Maybe he just wanted you out of his face, and you probably guessed right, as the second you stopped talking he slid down the opening of the wall and desended to watch the house’s residents flutter with panic.

To your bewildered surprise, it worked. You were classified as a missing victim, and no one ever came to the dusty attic. The payment for this shakey freedom was anything but nice. Often he’d push you from the attic, forcing you to scale down the exterior brick wall with cold wind blowing on your back. There was little warning, and you never knew how long you had to wait in the snow while he did whatever he did. Sometimes he’d scream at you until you left to procure an item for him; usually food. How you got it, he didn’t care, you wouldn’t be allowed back in without it. He saw quickly he could make you do whatever he wanted, and he shamelessly took advantage of that. It almost seemed like your life was his game, which at this point, it might as well be.

Billy rarely slept soundly for long, awakening after two or three hours of rest with a panicked scream. Then, like nothing ever happened, he’d casually go to do something else. He slid noisily down the wall to observe everyone else sleeping. He tore into one of the boxes that surrounded the both of you and explored its contents. On the worst occasions, he’d come bother you, shaking you awake for no good reason. You never snapped at him, because this was better than jail...Right?

Then he began to kill the other residents, returning in the morning with blood splattered on his clothes. He went put of his way to touch you, mumbling the late resident’s name as he painted you red. The first few times made you gag. By the time careful surveillance was set on the house, you didn’t care anymore. You slept during the day, to stay wide awake at night incase he got caught and you needed to bolt. Billy returned from his excursions in the morning as well, and would crawl in your already warm mattress and mumble until he passed out.

When there was no one left in the house, you thought fast. You coaxed him from the attic. Hand in hand, you led him through the shadowy forest, and to the attic of a new, unexpecting house. He smiled at you that day, a real, genuine smile not clouded by madness. The cycle began again, as he slid down the walls and carved new peeping holes. You were so numb. Your blood was black with guilt. You watched the new residents going about their business through the attic’s window, and you found your stomach so twisted you couldn’t eat. The only breath of fresh air you got was daydreaming, of what your life could’ve been if you’d just chosen any other house so long ago.

The oddest thing occured in the new house. He, for once, comforted you. You felt as if you looked into a mirror, as he even said the same things that you’d say to him. But he couldn’t shake the coldness in your core, and with a frostbitten body you were forced to assure him you were fine. Billy shrugged, ate the food you didn’t, and slid back down the walls. Through the dark window, where a small candle allowed you to see your distraught appearance, you knew this would be your life. You’d drag him from house to house, untill he’d killed everyone in the world, and the last person for him to kill was the only one that really deserved it.

Asa Emory

He notices you missing from the collection fast. Escapes weren’t uncommon, but he wasn’t too bothered by it.

He expected to see your mangled, shredded corpse cooling on one of his highly advanced traps. There was nothing to worry about.

When you didn’t show up gutted and gored within a few days, he began to worry. The though of your bewildered face appearing before the police, a wide, fearful expression before reporters made him nervous. If you’d ran out of hell, you’d know how to run back in.

The news interview that would shock the generation never came, and the ouchie he got on his ego healed. That left the obvious final option that you had, or eventually would, expire and waste away alone in a dark corner. That filled him with a good feeling, that you’d suffer a cold death for running from him.

So when he was met with your wild, smirking face in a vent, he felt some sort of way. Mostly anger. You’d not only killed his ego, but spat on it too.

You’d scrambled away before he could grab your boney ankle and strangle you, leaving him to smash his bathroom mirror in rage.

Unfortunately, Asa worked as an exterminator, and you were nothing more than another pest. He wondered if you too would still scramble if he cut your head off. Murder was off the menu that night, and he let you gloat your near death experience for only one final time.

The next day, he patiently set bait. An empty, blood splattered room would do. In the middle sat an empty trunk, and an unsupervised meal. It seemed as if someone lived there, and had been pulled away from a mouth watering dish. Or, a very obvious trap.

If your hunger got the best of you, you slid through the rather snug vent along the floor, quietly moving the grate from its place. A click echoed, just barely loud enough to be heard over the dogs howling.

He watched your heart drop. He watched it shatter as you turned to your sneakly little vent, and find that it was locked shut. A thick metal plate had slid from the wall and trapped you. Not too far after the realization settled frigid in your stomach, did a soft hiss of escaping wind begin to grow.

The exterminator’s poison was clear, but it was not painless. Whether you cried and begged, or you silently glared in defeat, he wouldn’t let you out. You accept the hotel’s damp, rotten air, or you choke on it.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Nice to Meet You

For @boxboysandotherwhump - Theo chose soft!Jameson, so here he is! @wildfaewhump gave me the three-word prompt “Space, shell, fair” for Jameson.

CW: Recovering pet whumpees, referenced past torture, scars, referenced dubcon/noncon, briefly referenced past dehumanization, consensual angst, fluff

When he opens the closet door, intending to press himself into his safe spot with his back to the corner, blocked by the boxes, he discovers Allyn is already there.

For a moment, his mind goes blank.

They look up at him and wince as the light cuts into the warm, velvet dark they were hiding in. Their long wavy hair hangs over their eyes, impossibly long legs bent until their knees are under their chin in the oversized sweatpants, gray eyes looking up at him, startled.

They’re more afraid of you than you are of them, whispers Nanda’s voice in his mind, soft and sweet as custard, the first owner, the one who took him on hunting trips where he had him sleep with the dogs and cut a line into the back of his thigh for every animal he slaughtered. All his memories of Nanda are grays tinged in blood - the gray of the sky, of Nanda’s eyes, the red of the bloodhounds, the drips that followed him across the floor. 

Nanda also taught him about bears, while they moved through the woods. They’re more afraid of you than you are of them, boy. Vanilla custard, but held on the edge of a sharp knife, metallic under pillowy cloying sweetness. Nanda’s words always felt like blood in his mouth, spoonfed.

Allyn isn’t a bear - but they are definitely afraid.

“Why-” His voice cracks, shock of earthquake through ice on his tongue, and he considers simply closing the door and walking away. Allyn is his roommate, not his friend. He doesn’t have friends, none of them have real friends. Just other people also suffering nearby. Finally, though, he opens the door just a little wider. “Why are you in here?”

Allyn shakes their head, and it’s only then Jameson realizes their hair is uncombed, hanging lank and limp and lifeless, which Allyn’s hair never does. Their lips tremble, no perfect fucking party smile in place like usual, as they cringe back from him. No pretty blouse, no pretty anything. Just pale and shadowed, freckles standing out like someone stuck them on. “I-I’m sorry, I just… just needed-... a, a minute t-to breathe, I’m sorry-”

“This is my fucking space, Allyn. Yours is under the bed, so… go be under the bed.” His voice isn’t as rough and mean as he wants it to be, but it’s maybe mean enough - they sniff, and he sees their eyes glitter with tears.

His anger melts under something he tells himself isn’t guilt, and he exhales, slowly, before he moves to a crouch. He doesn’t like being loomed over, so they probably hate it, too, right? He’s had too many motherfuckers stare down at him in his cages. He stays that way in silence, right at their eye level, cocking his head as they breathe, wondering what color their eyes really are.

“I’m sorry,” They whisper, and he can see the shift of their oversized sweatshirt, three days past needing a wash. This isn’t like Allyn at all. Have they been like this for days, and he didn’t notice?

Well, why he fuck should he notice, they’re not friends, and Allyn is in his space, the only space in his entire life that’s all his and isn’t ringed in bars to put him on display-

No. 

It’s not their fault, they’re upset, and the darkness of the closet is safer than anywhere else. You can hide in closets, he understands why they’re here. He forces down his irritation, and takes in the miserable worry in their eyes.

“Shit. Allyn, it’s... I don’t mean to be an ass, I just-... uh, what made you… need a minute? Exactly?” He should call for the big guy who runs this place, it’s his whole job to handle moments like this, but he can’t quite make it happen. Instead, he finds the voice he wants to be sharp is softer, his words feel like the heat of a kiss he actually wants, taste sweeter than any kiss he’s ever actually had. 

They’re more scared of you than you are of them.

“Um, I-I was-... I was thinking… about… him.” The poison in the love in their voice is all in Jameson’s head, but he feels it seep into all his scars anyway. Acid, that him. Too much pineapple burning his tongue. They’re lucky to have had an owner they could love. Luckier still, to have one who loved them back.

Luckiest of all, to have an owner who wanted them to be happy.

Unluckiest, though, to get chucked out with the fucking garbage when the asshole died and they weren’t in his will. It’s not fair, but it’s fucking life, isn’t it? And in the end, which one of them is luckier? Him, for knowing it was suffering the whole time - or them, for having the chance to believe it was anything else?

“You miss him.” Flat, crash of knives on the ground, the clink and rattle and smack of their handles. Allyn only hears the words. He is starting to realize words feel inside him differently than they do to others. 

Allyn nods, and the glitter of tears spills finally out. 

He wants to touch their face - he doesn’t.

“I-I do,” They whisper. “I know I sh-sh-shouldn’t, but I… I do. I’m sorry, I know that you don’t-... that you weren’t-”

“Yeah, well.” He waves a hand, dismissive. The scars on his back and legs feel stretched, when he crouches like this, balances on the balls of his feet. He can feel the skin pull at itself, numbed but still here. Couldn’t kill me, motherfuckers, how about that? I’m still here, and three of you are gone. You’re just fucking corpses and your little blow-up doll with a heartbeat is still here. “You’re hurting worse than I am now, so I guess we’re sort of even.”

“I just… I can’t-...” Allyn’s voice buckles under the weight of their emotions, it shatters. Jameson tastes blood from the glass and watches Allyn lift their hands to hide behind them. Long fingers, delicate and graceful, even in this. Nails filed to perfect roundness. His own fingers are nothing special, two of them on his right hand broken until they don’t bend quite right anymore. He didn’t have to have perfect hands. He barely escaped Robert getting to keep his hands at all, and that was only because he was pretty fucking good at using them. 

“I can’t live without him,” Allyn whimpers, muffled and thick. “I feel like… like I was made empty for him to fill up, and h-he’s gone, I can’t-... live without him, I can’t-”

He swallows the glass of their grief, buries it inside him. Wonders if he’ll ever know how it feels to give a shit what happened to the assholes who hurt him. What would it be like, to actually feel bad about the deaths? 

“You can,” He says, low-voiced, and shifts forward into the closet, settling himself down and closing the door until only the thinnest crack of light can break up their safer darkness. Barely the width of a wire, the light illuminates nothing, only reminds them it’s there. He listens to the soft inhale, slower exhale, of the person beside him. Their presence is a weight, in his safest places, and his nerves are alight with how fragile it is, to have anywhere at all, how easily ruined by someone intruding. He clears his throat, uncertain, unused to being one to give comfort. More used to ignoring its existence. “You, um. You can live without them, I fucking swear it, Allyn. I lived without all of mine, for a while, ‘fore the next one caught me, or bought me.”

He hears rustling, and tilts his head just slightly to see them looking at him. They’re pale, but he is, too, a duller washed-out color from lack of sunlight for so long. Their freckles look like constellations, the stars he would stare at through Robert’s window in the dark. He notes, absently, that they damn near have a Little Dipper along their left cheekbone. “But-... but you didn’t love them… did you?”

He decides he sort of likes their voice. It slips into his mind, subtle sweetness, maple syrup but thinner. Weaker, but maybe it could be strong. 

With time.

He swallows, speaking gruffly to cover up the strange twist of emotion. “No, I-... no. I didn’t love ‘em, but… but you keep going, you know? You’ll do it, too. I’m not… fuck, I’m not good for this. I wasn’t ever supposed to talk, so I’m not… super good at it now. Being, um. Like, helping… with words.” His voice is thick tar on his tongue, colored by his embarrassment. 

But he tries.

There’s a silence, and he leans over, until his shoulder just touches theirs. Allyn tenses and then relaxes, and they sit like that for a while, listening to each other breathe.

Allyn’s head comes to rest on his shoulder, and he finds he doesn’t mind the weight.

“I’m so tired of being sad,” They whisper. 

“Yeah, I’m-... sorta tired of being pissed off, myself.” He huffs a laugh. Then he feels Allyn’s hand - cold, slender, long-fingered - find his own, warmer and scarred. “Feels like we’re just empty seashells that get filled up with whatever the water brings, huh?”

“That… that sounds really pretty,” Allyn says softly. “Do you think pretty things a lot?”

“No. Most of my thoughts are really fucking ugly.” He manages another humorless laugh. “I guess I can surprise you, huh.”

“In more ways than one.”

“What?”

“I saw what you wrote on the wall,” Allyn murmurs, and they shift their head, breath warm on the side of his neck, where his collar is. Or isn’t. For a second, he can’t remember if he’s wearing it or not. He takes his off, sometimes. When he can. More and more often, as the days turns into weeks here.

“You did?” He closes his eyes, not that it makes much difference. They don’t let go of his hand. There is movement, out in the hall, in the rest of the house, but for the second, he and Allyn are alone. 

“Mmhmm. You can read and write? Did your owner let you?”

It’s a secret he’s kept inside him for so long. It’s so hard to give it away, now. “I… no, none of them knew I could. When they took it from me, it… didn’t work. I never lost it.”

“Oh.” They’re silent for a moment. Their breath is warm, and despite himself, he feels a nervous flip of his stomach, his hair standing on end. It’s something trapped between fear and want, and it’s unlike any fear or want he’s ever felt before. “What did you write, on the wall?”

He could tell them anything. He could lie.

He tells the truth. “I wrote out our names. All of us. Um. The, Jake, and… his people. Eli, Nova, Sarita, um, Allyn…”

“Did you write yours?”

He lets his head gently fall back to rest against the wall. His heart might break out of him, bleed all over the floor. A different kind of bleeding, a kind that he sort of wants, even though he doesn’t. “Um. Yeah, I… yeah.”

“What is it?” They don’t move their head, they don’t let go of his hand. “What’s your name?”

He shouldn’t tell them.

It’s been his secret for so, so long. But… fuck, he’s so tired of secrets.

“Jameson,” He says, and it’s the taste of air just before rain, a chill breeze on a blistering day. His name, the one he gave himself. “I’m-... my name is Jameson.”

They’re quiet for a second, and then say, softly, “Nice to meet you, Jameson.”

It sounds better, in Allyn’s voice.

Everything does.

---

@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @whump-tr0pes @whumpiary @raigash @moose-teeth @orchidscript @astrobly @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @endless-whump

[sunlight-moonrise]

The Five Dates (Reid Request)

Summary: Reader decides that she wants to help Spencer experience the things he missed out on when he was a teenager. 

A/N: I had a couple of people ask for a part 2 to The Five Times so here it is. Originally was gonna leave that fic as a standalone but writer’s block on my other WIPs led to this sequel. I strongly recommend reading the first part before reading this one so that the story-line makes more sense. As always, thank you to the lovely @spencer-reid-in-a-pool and​ @wishingwellwriting​ for being fantastic betas. They have amazing fics, so if you need another Spencer Reid fix, they can most definitely deliver. Enjoy!

Category: Fluff

Content Warnings: None

Word Count: 6.0K

Masterlist

The first date I had with my neighbor, I don’t think it really counted as a date.

Spencer and I were eating dinner at my apartment after he told me the man who tried to attack me was in custody. We were sitting on the couch with the TV on but I didn’t know what was playing since we were talking the whole time.

He told me that he does magic tricks, enjoys ghost stories, and loves to learn. In return, I told him my favorite hobbies, some habits that I can’t get out of, and food that I enjoy cooking. He listened with rapt attention, hanging on to every word I said. It was amazing being able to spend time with someone like this. It felt like I’ve known him for years rather than a few months.

“…and that’s probably my worst experience from school,” I finished, recounting the tales of my teenage years. “What about you? Anything you wish you can take back from the early days?”

Spencer suddenly turned away from me and became silent. I looked at him in confusion. Was it something I said? Did I offend him?

“Oh, I—I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?” I asked, my voice coming out as a whisper because of how low I spoke.

He quickly shook his head, as if driving away some bad thoughts that plagued his mind. “It’s not you. It’s just that I was a 12-year-old prodigy at a public high school in Vegas. I didn’t have a lot of fun experiences.”

I could hear the sorrow in his words when he told me this. I know how cruel kids could be, especially to someone they considered an outcast. My heart ached for the little boy who went through so much misery at such an early age.

There were a few more seconds of silence before I had a lightbulb moment. “Well, maybe we can change that,” I suggested. “We can do some things that typical teenagers do.” A million ideas immediately came to mind. We can go bowling or ice skating or bike riding.

“I don’t know. I kind of got over that point of my life.”

“Oh.” There was no hiding the sadness in my voice, which made me feel worse. There’s no reason for me to feel dejected over his statement. I shouldn’t be so selfish.

Spencer must have sensed that something was off with me because he quickly tried to correct himself. “It’s not that I don’t want to have these experiences. I just find it embarrassing that I haven’t had them yet, even now.”

“I’m not going to judge you, Spencer. I don’t want you to feel embarrassed with me,” I assured him. I moved my hand towards his as an offer to hold, which he surprisingly took. His hand completely enveloped mine. “Tell me some things that you’ve always wanted to do when you were younger but never got the chance.”

He took a moment to think while I anxiously waited for his response. “I never had the chance to have a sleepover. I had too many responsibilities at the time. I always wanted to go to a festival or a carnival. I also—” he suddenly stopped talking. I noticed his face turning slightly red as he bit his lower lip, his other hand patting against his leg.

“What is it, Spencer?”

“I-uh always wanted to wine and dine a girl, maybe take her to see a play or movie. I wanted to take an evening stroll and just stargaze for a while.” His voice became smaller the more he talked. I hated that he started to feel self-conscious around me but knew that it couldn’t be helped. I was going to change that. I was going to make sure that Spencer Reid experienced teenage fun.

“Anyway, it’s getting late,” he said, removing his hand from mine. “I have to go in tomorrow and I am sure you have an early day as well.”

“Let me put these dishes away and I’ll walk you to the door.” I grabbed our plates and walked to the kitchen, placing them in the sink. My mind was racing with thoughts on what to do for Spencer. When I returned to the living room, he was already by the hallway, grabbing his belongings.

I slowly opened the door for him, watching as he stepped out of the apartment. Before he made it too far, I grabbed the sleeve of his arm, prompting him to turn around. Here goes nothing.

“Spencer Reid, would you like to go on a date with me?” I asked, the pitch of my voice a lot higher than normal. Despite feeling nervous, I made sure to look him in the eye and maintain contact. He stared back at me, mouth agape while his face was turning pink.

“Are you sure?” he questioned, looking down at his feet. Mental note: build up Dr. Reid’s confidence, at least around me.

“I have never been more certain of anything in my life,” I answered honestly. I smiled at him when I noticed his lips tugging upwards.

“Yes. I would like to go on a date with you, (Y/N).” The smile on his face was adorable and I was happy to be the cause of it. “Uh m-maybe I could get your number, so that we can talk,” he added.

“Sure.” I took my phone from my pocket before giving it to him. He put in his number, a bit slowly but I wasn’t complaining. I saw it as more time I got to spend with him. Once he handed my phone back, we just stood in front of each other for a while.

Before I lost my resolve, I stood on my tiptoes and pressed my lips against his cheek. Before either of us could do anything, I muttered a quick “Goodnight Dr. Reid,” and closed the door. My heart thumped erratically as I slid down the door.

“Goodnight (Y/N)” I heard through the block keeping us apart. His footsteps got quieter and quieter until he eventually opened and closed his own door.

At that moment I couldn’t help but think that I was definitely infatuated with Spencer Reid.

●●●

The second date I had with Dr. Reid, I was a nervous wreck.

Spencer and I have been texting back and forth these last few days. Luckily, we were both free this weekend, so we planned on going out. I haven’t told him yet where we’re going, much to his dismay. The only hint I gave him was to dress casually.

I’ve done some research and found that there was a food festival happening Saturday afternoon. A lot of local restaurants will have stands and distant establishments will be sending food trucks. Their theme is “Around the World” so we’ll get to explore various cultures. I’m hoping we can learn some new things from the different cuisines that would be showcased.

Saturday came around and I made sure I had everything ready. I wanted our date to go off without a hitch. I wanted this to be one of Spencer’s best experiences.

I heard a knock on my door, causing my heart to pick up a bit. I don’t know why I started to sweat. Sure, I’m going on a date with a good looking and successful man but there’s nothing to be nervous about, right? Right.

I heard another knock, more hesitant this time. I quickly made my way towards my door, taking a deep breath before opening it. Thank the angels I took in that breath because I immediately lost it again at the sight of him. 

Spencer was holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand. Lavender roses and red carnations were a few that I could identify. I think the purple flower might be an orchid. 

He lifted them towards me, a slight tremor in his hands. “These are for you.” 

“They’re lovely Spencer, thank you.” I grabbed the flowers from him, taking in the smell of the blossoms. “I’m going to put these in a vase. I’ll be right back.”

I made my way to the living room to do just that. I grabbed my bag and a jacket before checking myself in the mirror one last time. Happy with my appearance, I returned back to Spencer. I shut the door behind us as we walked towards the elevator.

“You look beautiful, by the way,” Spencer said as we entered the elevator. I can tell he was still nervous, the thrumming of his fingers against one another and the bouncing on his feet a few signs hinting towards his anxious state.

“You look dashing as well. Although I do remember telling you to dress casually, mister,” I said, a small smile appearing on my face at the sight of his own.

Spencer was wearing a dark pair of slacks with a light purple button-down shirt. His hair was slicked and combed back. He was rocking back and forth on his beat-upped chucks and I can see the mismatched socks peeking through. He looked a bit silly, especially considering where we are going, but handsome nonetheless.

“I don’t have casual clothing. Plus I wanted to look good for you.” I could feel my face getting warm because of his words. “By the way, it’s doctor.”

I giggled at his comment, which caused him to laugh as well. We exited the elevator and out of the lobby.

“We’re going to take the subway to our destination,” I informed him. “It should take less than half an hour to get there.”

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going now?”

“It’s still a surprise, doctor,” I beamed at him.

Fortunately, we did not experience any delays on the train. We spent the duration of the commute getting to know one another even more. He told me some stories involving outings with his co-workers and I could tell that he really loved each and every one of them. I shared some work stories and funny memories with my colleagues as well.

Once we got to our stop, I grabbed his hand and led us to the festival. It was a 10-minute walk from the exit. I turned to him as soon as I saw our destination within our sights.

“A food and wine festival?” he questioned.

“Yeah, I know this isn’t exactly what you had in mind when we were talking the other day but I thou—“

“I like it, especially since I’m  spending the day with you.” There goes my heart again, picking up pace as if I ran a marathon. I’m sure he says these things on purpose just to see me flustered.  

Spencer squeezed my hand in his and we explored the grounds. We decided to share a plate from each stall so that we can experience as much as possible. Spencer walked us to the first stall he saw, which showcased food from the Philippines.

“Did you know that Filipino food draws roots from their neighboring Asian nations as well as some Spanish countries?” he stated as we looked at the menu, “It is considered to be a perfect blend of Western and Eastern food. Actually—” he suddenly stopped himself. I looked at him curiously, wondering what caused his interruption.

“Sorry, I have a tendency to ramble.”

“There’s no need to apologize. I want to hear what you have to say. Let’s order something and you can finish telling me.”

He smiled brightly at me and squeezed my hand. After ordering a siopao to share, we sat at a table while he finished telling me facts about Filipino cuisine. As a matter of fact, he told me a lot of information about various cultures and countries as we walked from vendor to vendor.

We tried risotto from an Italian booth, which Spencer said was not as good as his friend’s cooking. We also got carne asada tacos from a Mexican food truck, where I discovered that tomatoes, dragon fruit, and vanilla originated from Mexico. We ate some sake nigiri sushi from a Japanese stand. I found out that Spencer cannot use chopsticks to save his life. I decided to feed him so that he doesn’t accidentally drop our food. We ventured to numerous vendors and had our fill in almost everything that was offered. We even had desserts and some drinks.

By the time Spencer and I made it back to our apartments, we were both stuffed. I was close to going into a food coma and I knew Spencer wasn’t far behind either.

“I don’t think I’ve ever eaten that much food in my life,” he commented as we stood in front of my door.

“You and me both. I’m sure I gained 10 pounds,” I joked, enjoying the way he laughed at my attempt at being humorous. I still held his hand in mine, not wanting the evening to end, but I knew it had to. We had spent the whole day together and we were tired.

Spencer made the decision for us. He lifted my hand, placed a chaste kiss on my knuckles and wished me sweet dreams before he retreated to his own home.

At that moment I couldn’t help but think that I was definitely charmed by Spencer Reid.

●●●

The third date I had with Spencer was ruined, but then fixed.

I was organizing a picnic basket when I received a call from him. I was puzzled as to why he was calling, especially when we’re supposed to meet up in a couple of hours.

“Hey (Y/N)” His voice came out gruff as if he just woke up.

“Hi Spencer, are you okay?” I heard some coughs coming from his end and I immediately became concerned over his well-being

“I don’t think I can go out this afternoon. I’ve been sick these past few days. I was really hoping to get back on my feet by now. I am so sorry.”

Before he could say anything else, because I knew he would in his remorseful state, I interrupted him. “Spencer, it's fine. We’ll raincheck,” I assured him. He tried to thank me, but another set of coughs came over. These sounded worse than the first ones.

Spencer managed to get out a goodbye before hanging up the phone. I contemplated what to do. He sounded so sick and miserable on the phone. He likely has a sore throat, maybe even muscle aches. The idea of him alone and shivering caused a dull pain in me.

I decided that I was going to see this man. I could make him something warm to eat and lend him my thickest blanket. We could even watch a movie together too.

With that in mind, I made some chicken soup and herbal tea. I put the items in containers before placing them in my picnic basket. I grabbed my largest and heaviest blanket, placing it over my shoulder. It wouldn’t fit in the basket, no matter how many times I folded it. Lastly, I grabbed my laptop, so that we can stream movies. Spencer once told me he wasn’t big on technology so I had no idea whether he owned a TV or not.

Once I had all the essential items, I made my way across the hall, knocking on his door. Unsurprisingly, it took a while for him to open the door. I waited a minute or two before he answered and was disheartened by what I saw.

Spencer was pale, well paler than usual, with a light sheen of sweat on his forehead.  His under eyes were dark and his nose was so red. He wore a robe over his pajamas. He looked as if he was about to fall over any second now.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, eyeing the blanket wrapped around me. His voice was slightly slurred and he was leaning on the doorframe to keep himself up.

“Well I figured since I couldn’t take you out on a picnic, I’ll take the picnic to you.”

He looked down at my hands, noticing the basket I was holding.

“You shouldn’t be around me, you’ll get sick.”

“Spencer Reid, you’re worth the cooties. May I please come in?”

He relented, leaving the door open for me to follow. I took in his apartment, appreciating his more vintage style. He had a massive collection of books, some of them in languages I couldn’t even identify.

“You have a miniature bookstore in here,” I commented. I turned towards him, seeing his figure laying down on the couch. 

“I like to read,” he simply said, the words muffled by the couch cushion he was lying on. I went towards him, shrugging off the blanket from me and placing it on top of his lap.

“If you get cold, use this to keep you warm. I’m going to heat up the soup and tea. Try to stay awake for me.”

Spencer nodded his head, bunching up the soft material in his hands. I quickly grabbed the content from the basket and dashed to the kitchen. It took me a few minutes to find where he puts his utensils, but I had everything taken care of in no time. I even found a tray to help me carry the food.

I brought the dishes to him, warning him of the heat. “I hope you like chicken soup and ginger tea. I added some honey to satisfy your sweet tooth.” He thanked me, holding the bowl close to him to keep him warm. I settled myself on the couch next to him, happy that he wasn’t complaining about our proximity.

“I have my laptop with me. We can watch some movies if you want.”

“I’d like that a lot.” We ended up watching The Matrix and Minority Report. Spencer tried his best to stay quiet during the films, but couldn’t help but to comment about certain technicalities and improbabilities. I found his rambling endearing, adding in my own opinions after he finished sharing his thoughts. I had to remind him to not strain his voice when he got on a tangent on how the idea of living in a simulation is not possible. He lost me once he started talking about quantum physics.

Spencer looked at the clock, noticing the late hour. “Are you going to leave?” His voice was low, and I am positive it was not because of his ill state. He was talking with passion and intensity a few moments ago.

“Do you want me to?”

“No. Is that selfish of me?” My heart skipped a beat. Knowing that he wanted me to stay with him gave me feelings I couldn’t quite describe.

“Of course not, Spence. We could have that sleepover you missed out on,” I stated enthusiastically. He stared at me for a moment, and I wondered if I misunderstood the situation. Before I could apologize for my assumption, he started talking.

“That’s the first time you called me Spence.” He’s right. All this time I’ve been addressing him as Spencer or Dr. Reid. “I like it,” he finished.         

“Let me grab my pajamas and some toiletries. I’ll be back before you know it.”

I sprinted to my apartment, changing into my sleepwear and grabbing my necessities before returning to Spencer’s. I am sure I was there and back under five minutes.

Spencer and I continued our evening playing board games. We played some chess (which I lost at) as well as poker (which I also lost at). He showed some card tricks and tried to teach me a basic one. I couldn’t do it as smoothly, but he said that with practice I could become a magician.

I knew the night was coming to an end when he began to yawn every few minutes. Despite saying that he could stay up longer, his body needed to recover.

“You should take my bedroom,” he offered after coming back from the restroom, “You’ll be comfortable there.”

“Absolutely not. Slumber Party rules dictate that we sleep in the same room.” He laughed at my proclamation.

“That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is. Now I’m going to use your bathroom. Do you keep your spare sheets in the closet?”

He nodded drowsily as I made my way to his bathroom. I did my nightly routine and grabbed a blanket from the closet. When I returned to Spencer, he was already dozing off.   

He looked so peaceful at this moment, I’ve never seen such a look on him. I kissed the bridge of his nose and made my way to the armchair.

 I settled myself as comfortably as I can.. Before I fell asleep, I could have sworn I heard a “Goodnight” coming from his direction. When I peeked to see if he was awake, his eyes were still closed but he had a wide smile on his face.

At that moment I couldn’t help but think that I was definitely captivated by Spencer Reid.

●●●

The fourth date I had with Spence, he was in charge.

Spencer told me that he wanted to take me out as a way to show his gratitude. I wanted to tell him that it was unnecessary, but he looked so eager and I didn’t want to take that away. Plus, I was looking forward to whatever he came up with. I know that with Spencer, I am bound to have a good time.

He kept everything a secret for me, which was no surprise considering how our first official date went down. The only thing he told me was to dress nicely, yet comfortably.

My body was pulsating with excitement. I made sure to spend extra time with my makeup. I didn’t want to go overboard, but I definitely wanted to accentuate my features. I chose to wear a maxi skirt with my favorite blouse. I added a few accessories and paired everything with some heels.

I didn’t have to wait long before hearing a knock on the door. He always seems to have impeccable timing. I practically floated towards my door with how happy I was.

Spencer was dressed in black dress pants and a deep blue button-down. The outfit was accompanied with a dark tie and blazer combo. He even had dress shoes on, which came as a surprise since this man loves his chucks.

“You look as handsome as always, Doc.” He smiled at my words. I love that he was more comfortable with my compliments. It seems like we came a long way from him stammering over his words and fidgeting with his hands. Although I must admit that I am going to miss his bashful behavior.

“I got this for you.” He revealed what appeared to be a corsage in his hands, the flowers of the accessory matching the one pinned to his blazer. “Uh- I-I know it is probably a bit um juvenile. You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to.”

“Spence, I love it. And I’ll love it more if you put it on me.”

He beamed at me, taking the corsage out of the casing and carefully securing it on my wrist. He was so gentle and patient while doing the task. Once he was done, we headed down to the lobby.

“I hope you don’t mind that I am driving,” he said as we made our way to what I assumed to be his car, a two-door pale blue Volvo. I was not surprised, this is his exact style.

“As long as you get us to our location in one piece, I don’t mind at all.” He opened my door for me before settling in on the driver’s side.

As Spencer drove, we talked about the antique style of his possessions. He shared that his Mom had a similar taste and he was very close to her when he was younger. I wanted to ask more, elated that he was telling me about his family, but decided to hold back. The way his voice wavered as he was talking showed me that this was a major effort for him. I decided to share some stories about my family and their influence over my own lifestyle.

Time always seems to fly with Spencer because before I knew it we were already parked. Being the chivalrous man that he is, Spencer made sure to open my door for me. He held my hand as we walked to the restaurant. I admired the ambiance of the venue. There was a band playing soft jazz music and lights scattered upon the ceiling. The décor was beautiful and the overall atmosphere was very cozy.

The hostess led us to our seats after Spencer informed her of our reservation. We sat at a corner table, providing us the perfect amount of privacy.

“Have you been here before?” I asked.

“No, I haven’t. As a matter of fact, a friend of mine recommended this place. He said that it was the perfect place to...uh, woo a girl.”

“Well, I am entirely wooed. But that is mostly due to the present company.” He smiled at me, before looking at the menu. I decided to do the same after noticing the pink tint at the tip of his ears. I still got it.

The rest of our dinner went smoothly. We ordered our meals as well as a glass of wine, in which I was informed of the many health benefits that come with drinking a glass of red. I was able to convince Spencer to show me a magic trick using a coin and napkin. He did it multiple times, yet I couldn’t find out how it worked. We talked about music, literature, art and so much more. We were so deep into our conversation that we didn’t notice our food had arrived.

My food smelled amazing and tasted even better. I couldn’t help but ask Spencer for a bite of his. He was willing to share as long as he got a piece of my food as well. We ended up splitting our meals with each other.

After paying for the entire bill, much to my protest, Spencer took my hand and led me out of the restaurant. I thought it would be the end of our night together but was wrong. Spencer said that there was one more surprise for me.

The car ride this time was a bit on the longer side and I wondered where on earth he could be taking us. It wasn’t until I saw a sign that a large smile appeared on my face.

“A drive-in theater?” I excitedly asked.

“Yes,” he confirmed, “I hope you don’t mind watching a scary movie.”

“As long as you don’t mind me holding you when I get scared.”

“Deal.” 

It was not difficult to find a good spot to enjoy the film. I screamed and jumped multiple times for two hours straight, much to Spencer’s amusement. He attempted to distract me by telling me facts about certain aspects of the movie which marginally helped. By the end of the film, I had started to get drowsy due to all the mini shots of adrenaline.

“Did you have fun?” he asked as he drove us home. I could hear the uneasiness in his question. I’m not sure why he was nervous, this was hands down the most fun I ever had on a date.

“Of course, Spence. This had to be the best date I ever went on. Thank you.”

He smiled widely at the road and I made sure to cherish the moment. It was not often that I got to see such a large grin on Spencer’s face. Happiness was such a good look on him. It makes him appear much more lively and handsome.

I closed my eyes, allowing them to rest momentarily. I didn’t expect to be so tired from an outing. The motion of the car driving on smooth pavement was almost like a lullaby that lured me into a light slumber.

I’m not sure how much time has passed before I was lifted into someone’s arms. If it wasn’t for the scent of coffee and cinnamon, I surely would have panicked. I felt the press of warm lips on my forehead and couldn’t stop the sigh that left my mouth. I buried my head deeper into the arms that cradled me.

At that moment I couldn’t help but think that I definitely adored Spencer Reid.

●●●

The fifth date I had with Spencer was unplanned.

Spencer has been going on cases more often recently, so we didn’t have a chance to meet. We’ve been texting one another, even calling if time allows it, but I wanted to see him.

When he told me that he was finally flying back home, I decided to meet him at his job. I considered whether or not this would be crossing boundaries, but chose to accept the consequences of my actions later.

The drive to the building where Spencer works was not as long as I imagined. After receiving a visitor’s pass from the front desk and a vague direction of where to go, I found myself lost on the sixth floor.

“Can I help you sweetheart?” a feminine voice asked me. I turned to see a brightly colored fashionista in front of me. I was in awe of her vibrant attire. “Hun?”

“Oh uh, I’m sorry. I’m—I’m waiting for Spencer Reid to return. Umm, is there a place where I can wait for him?”

She beamed at me, her comforting smile providing me some relief. “The team isn’t coming for another half hour. You can wait in my office if you’d like.”

I nodded my head and followed her, taking in my surroundings. I have never been in such an official building before.

“Here we are,” said the kind stranger, leading me to a room filled with a bunch of monitors and computers. “I’m Penelope by the way. I work with Spencer and friends.”

“I’m (Y/N), Spencer’s neighbor.” I practically saw a lightbulb go over her head as she let out a squeal. Penelope started talking a mile a minute, I couldn’t understand what she was saying. It wasn’t until she saw the bewildered expression on my face that she paused and took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that Spencer has spoken about you a few times. I didn’t want to assume initially but I figured who you were earlier. Our resident genius doesn’t get many visitors here.”

My face heated up. I was stuck on the fact that Spencer spoke about me to his colleagues, the people he considers his second family. I wondered what he said. Hopefully nothing too embarrassing, he always seems to catch me at some mortifying moments.

“Anyway,” Penelope continued, “you have to tell me about yourself. Spencer doesn’t share enough details and I promised not to search you up.”

For the next half hour, Penelope and I traded information about ourselves. She told me how she got the job as a technical analyst and some other activities she does outside of work while I told her about my typical routine and favorite pastimes.

Penelope’s phone vibrated and she immediately looked at her screen. “They’re here. Let’s go meet them upfront.”

We walked back to where I came from, standing in front of the elevators. We didn’t have to wait long for the doors to open before I saw a pack of people exiting. My eyes instantly landed on Spencer, he was the tallest in the group.

Spencer was currently looking at his phone, typing something on the screen. He finally brought his head up once he put his cell away and I felt mine vibrate with a notification. Once his eyes landed on me, he pushed past the people he was with and darted towards me.

I opened my arms as he drew me into a tight hug. It is a shame that I have not embraced Spencer more because he gives the best hugs. Everything about him automatically puts me in a tranquil state of mind.

“What are you doing here?” he asked once he put some space between us.

“I wanted to see you. Is that okay?”

“It’s more than okay. I missed you.” That beautiful smile graced his face one more. How is it possible that this man is in my life?

The sound of someone clearing their throat pulled Spencer and I away from our bubble. My face heated up as I saw his friends surrounding us.

“Who’s this pretty lady Reid?” asked the muscular man. I looked at all his colleagues, recognizing the blonde as the woman who was at his apartment a couple of months ago. That was when I mistakenly thought she was his girlfriend. She smiled at me, no doubt knowing who I was.

“This is (Y/N), she’s my gi—uh she’s my ummm …” he trailed off, glancing at me. I didn’t notice that we have yet to establish our relationship with one another.

“I’m his neighbor,” I finished. Spencer introduced me to his team before telling me to wait while he gathered his belongings. During his absence, Penelope convinced me to join her for a girl’s night out in the future with the other ladies. I couldn’t say no to the offer, her enthusiasm was seeping through her pores.

When Spencer returned, he grabbed my hand and said his goodbyes while leading us to the elevator. I saw Penelope whisper excitedly to the muscular man that I learned was named Derek, before the doors even got a chance to close.

“My car is here. I can drive us back home,” I informed Spencer.

He nodded his head as we exited the building and made our way to the car. I know that Spencer does not particularly like to discuss his cases, so instead I asked him questions of the places he has been at recently and whether he had the chance to explore. He animatedly told me of a book he purchased that was in a foreign language as well as a vinyl record he got at a music store.

“Can we go to the park?” he suddenly asked. I was a bit confused but decided not to question him.

“Yea, sure.”

The park was not far from where we currently were. After finding a spot and getting out, he took my hand in his once again, leading us down a serene trail. The sound of crickets chirping while the soft wind breezed through us was very relaxing. I looked up at the sky, taking in the tiny visible stars and full moon.

Spencer stopped walking in the middle of the trail, tugging my hand so that I was closer to him. He stared at me as his tongue brushed across his lips.   

“(Y/N)?” His voice had that shy tone once again.

“Yes, Spencer?” He brought his hand up to tuck some loose strands of hair behind my ear.

“May I kiss you?”

My heart started racing at his question. Yes, yes, a thousand times yes. My voice was stuck in my throat so I nodded my head instead.

Spencer’s hand gently held my cheek as he leaned down towards me. I closed my eyes once his soft lips landed on mine, wrapping my free hand around his neck. He tasted sweet, as I knew he would. I pressed more firmly against him, enjoying the sound of his moan when I swept my tongue across his lower lip. He allowed me to explore his mouth as he did the same to me.

I pulled away after a while to catch my breath. Spencer placed his forehead against mine, breathing heavier than I have ever seen.

“(Y/N)?” he panted out, his voice a lot more confident than it was beforehand.

“Yes, Spencer?”

“Would you like to be my girlfriend?”

I looked into his gentle hazel eyes, embracing all the emotions he was showing me through them. That gorgeous smile adorned his face once more. He looked so beautiful right here.

“I would love to be your girlfriend, Spence.”

I captured his lips this time around, relishing the warmth of his mouth on mine.

At that moment I couldn’t help but think that I was definitely in love with Spencer Reid.

[hanmajoerin]

A/N: Thank you to my good friend for sharing her dream journal entry and inspiring the feel for this one shot because every day InuYasha spent without Kagome must have been an unending dream.

Summary: There were others who loved and needed Kagome even though InuYasha was meant to be with her. He knew this, but gods, the cost of it. He thought he paid it in full by hardly fighting the Bone Eater’s Well, but now there were others who missed her too.

** Nominated for the 2021 2nd Quarterly Inuyasha Fandom Awards for Best One Shot 🥺💖

**Third Place Winner for the Best One Shot of the 2021 2nd Quarterly Inuyasha Fandom Awards. Thank you to everyone who voted for this story! I love you all ❤️ ~

II AO3 II FanFiction.Net II

Things to Keep

InuYasha lounged under the shade of one of many trees lining the river near Kaede’s village. Miroku washed his family’s night robes with Gyokuto strapped to his back while Sango burped Kin’u. It’d been over a year since the well sealed. InuYasha still thought about the surprised look on Kagome’s face when he was pulled back, but he prefered to remember her safe in her mother’s arms. It was difficult to do.

Kin’u burped and, within seconds, Sango had the newborn secured to her back again. When she kneeled by Miroku and told him she’d take over, InuYasha’s ear flicked. Despite catching their soft commentary more often, Sango’s tone was much gentler than the half-demon was used to hearing. Miroku made room for her effortlessly, choosing to help by trading clean pieces of laundry with dirty ones.

This was how they all lived now, resting by the greenery and exchanging cloth instead of sutras and oversized boomerangs. He wondered if Kagome’s days were boring like his; she always seemed frantic when he came to pick her up. Maybe she didn’t have time to think about them anymore. It would be easier for her that way.

Miroku shifted, putting InuYasha in Gyokuto’s line of vision. The newborn extended her arm out to him, and he was fascinated by the way her fingers flexed. There was more space between them now than there was last month. InuYasha had never really been around human babies before and it felt weird to compare the lethargic emptiness Kagome left in her wake to the enthusiastic growth of infants. InuYasha offered Kin’u a passing glance. He wasn’t going to tell her mother that an icicle of drool would fall onto her back soon.

The spring sun warmed people in its path and InuYasha’s legs didn’t understand the chill lingering on his torso because of it. Kin’u was gurgling now, gnawing on her fist. Miroku once told InuYasha how remarkable it was for him to tell the twins apart as quickly as he did, but the monk must’ve forgotten his nose. The girls looked the same, but their scents were unique. It was kind of like Kikyo and Kagome’s: similar but only on the first sniff.

The afternoons were getting longer again.

InuYasha opened one eye at the exact moment Sango began shaking out a small, fibrous white towel with blue polka dots. As if possessed by a demon, InuYasha was there. Standing by the river, standing before Sango. The towel never broke the water’s surface.

“What’s that?” InuYasha asked, arms folded over his chest. Sango quickly pulled the towel to her heart. The polka dots contorted in the slayer’s grasp, and her brown eyes widened with the tiniest hint of fear. It was as if she believed InuYasha’s claw tipped fingers would swipe it from her forever. As if. He wasn’t a jerk. Sango glowered at him anyway, firm. She knew what it meant for him to see this, and she wouldn’t let it go just to ease his heartache when it would worsen hers.

The two never spoke about Kagome and he didn’t want that to change. He should have wanted it to, but he didn’t. It hardly made sense, but he’d been struggling to make sense of a lot over the past year. His throat closed up when he tried talking about Kagome. The words refused to leave him.

InuYasha leaned forward, far from Sango but close enough to learn that this wasn’t the item’s first trip to the river. It still smelled like her. Bergamot and lilies and early summer mornings; half blue and half pink skies that fog never touched. “That’s Kagome’s.”

Without meaning to, he committed the thing to memory which explained why he placed it so easily. Kagome asked if he wanted to use it after him and Miroku’s run-in with the moth demon, Gatenmaru. The blood of that bastard’s human lackeys sank into InuYasha’s skin long before his humanity rose to the surface. The towel couldn’t have helped him any, and if he tried hard enough, InuYasha’d probably still catch scent of their blood like phantoms on the wind. The half-demon reached, finally accepting the school girl’s gesture, but Sango turned away. “Where’d you get that?” He asked.

“From Kagome’s bag; it wasn’t the only one in there,” Sango replied, submerging it into the river and forcing more distance between them. InuYasha’s brow twitched, but he doubted the demon slayer cared.

Brown eyes. Bergamot. Unwavering resilience. All of that flowed downstream now. He hated it.

“We–”

“Keh, it’s none of my business,” InuYasha spat, spinning on his heel. The towel was still his business. His arm felt like it was shaking even though InuYasha could clearly see it wasn’t. The plush towel sat behind his closed eyelids, opposite ends fluttering against the side of Sango’s hands as she held it in place. The polka dots grew and shrunk in a rhythm set by the rushing water. A budding mental itch grew to push Sango onto the grass so he could pluck Kagome’s towel out and run far, far away with it.

InuYasha swallowed hard, flicking an ear casually. Kin’u was there and he’d never shove Sango. If he grit his teeth, InuYasha could do it. He could continue letting the demon slayer turn what little he had left of Kagome into meaningless things to keep.

“With the birth of the twins, we felt it was necessary,” Miroku confessed as InuYasha continued walking away. If he stayed, he’d make an ass of himself.

There were others who loved and needed Kagome even though InuYasha was meant to be with her. He knew this, but gods, the cost of it. He thought he paid it in full by hardly fighting the Bone Eater’s Well, but now there were others who missed her too. Listening to Sango ring out the towel, InuYasha knew he was still paying his price. She wouldn’t miss Kagome’s scent like him, but knowing that another part of Kagome was leaving curdled his thoughts, ate at the same damn spot on his chest.

“Whatever.”

InuYasha heard Kagome calling out his name as he settled back against the trunk of a tree further from his initial spot. Like Miroku and Sango gave a shit. The sound of his name–the sound of her saying his name–lingered. Nostalgic.

The slayer handed her washed towel to Miroku, prompting an unwarranted pensive glance to be aimed in his direction. “Keh,” InuYasha huffed, turning his nose away from the monk. He turned it back in time to watch Miroku offer the towel a tender stare. Deep violet eyes looked as if stroking the fabric was a gesture that could be felt across time. If he hadn’t done the same sort of things, InuYasha would have scoffed.

Miroku placed the towel in the straw basket with everything else.

One leg breached past the leaves’ shade and a pair of amber eyes seemed to glow, overseeing a family that perpetuated the same cycle: Hand the husband something clean, one baby coos, put it in the basket, give the wife something dirty, the other baby coos, scrub.

InuYasha cupped his hands together before placing them behind his head. He closed his eyes once more, resting, picturing her running across the plush grass. Kagome waved to him and her hand practically skimmed the clouds. Her shoes never crunched down onto the ground like their friends’ straw sandals did. She was a familiar combination of green and white and black with a dash of red. She had a warmth that pierced through the arrow Kikyo used to seal him, every punch Sesshomaru landed, his own demonic blood, and now the loss of her.

An incessant jangling sprinkled like rain in his mind, wiping away at the sunlight and clouds that Kagome always reached. InuYasha blinked a few times, adjusting to this world with only Miroku, Sango, and the twins. “‘Bout time you finished,” he grumbled, standing fully in the shade.

“You know, an extra set of hands would be helpful next time,” Miroku suggested with a predictable waggle of his brows. InuYasha felt his own brows being dragged down; Kagome should’ve let the monk steal her iron cart and cycle away from them permanently back when they first met.

“No thanks.”

The days really were getting longer. The sun hadn’t budged, poised exactly where he last saw it. Sango snickered and InuYasha brushed past her, grabbing the basket of wet laundry and stomping from the grassy knoll to the main path. A stupid decision, really. The slayer’s eyes could have burnt holes through him if she’d been the right kind of demon. Even though she was a human, this type of stare would–

“Hey, InuYasha,” Sango began, and the half-demon let out an exasperated sigh. He fixed his focus to the huts ahead. Dark wood and reed mats and crackling fires.

“What?” Occasionally, a fractured piece of rock got stuck to the balls of his feet, and InuYasha was half tempted to kick one up to chuck at the trees.

“You can talk to us. You know that, right?”

“Keh.” And there it was, the block in his throat. How could he speak about Kagome like this? There wasn’t any room for the words.

“Is that all you have to say?” Sango snarled as the half-demon continued standing quietly, his expression unchanged. “Ever since the well reappeared, you’ve been acting like Kagome was never here! Don’t you miss her? Isn’t there any–”

“You don’t know a damn thing,” InuYasha ground out, closing the distance between them before the slayer could even finish. He stared down at her, but Sango met his glare relentlessly. She was the one who took Kagome’s towel without a second thought, Sango went through the bag Kagome packed right before their last battle together, and she was the person responsible for carelessly washing away the bergamot and lilies. “Kagome is safe and that’s it,” he finished and he meant it.

Sango grimaced, stomping her foot. InuYasha caught Kin’u watching them, thin brows scrunching just like her mother’s. “Oh, InuYasha, you’re absolutely insufferable!”

InuYasha placed a hand to his hip, yearning to step on a pebble. He scowled at Sango and gave the basket an extra sniff to remind himself how the scent of Kagome barely wrapped around Miroku and Sango’s. His body felt like a chattering leaf. “Did you expect me to cry or something?”

Sango sighed, walking past him and taking back her laundry. “No,” she mumbled, walking ahead of him.

Miroku stopped, clapping a hand to the half-demon’s shoulders. “Try not get too mad, she means well.”

“I know that,” InuYasha huffed, allowing the monk to step ahead. He watched the family, arms crossed over his chest, before picking up the rear. The five continued, a squeamish silence settling over them that left the twins lightly whimpering every now and again.

In a stroke of luck, InuYasha stepped on a rock. Kicking it up to his hands, he contemplated where to throw it. He tossed it in the air a few times. The silver ears atop his head swiveled, and a large grin spread across his features as he honed in on the unmistakable scent of a rabbit in the bushes. Wouldn’t hurt to spook the thing, InuYasha thought to himself, eyes on the forest. Just as he reeled his hand back, he lowered it, turning sharply to face Sango. She was pilfering through the laundry basket like a deranged woman. Ah, she finally snapped, InuYasha noted. “Isn’t there something of Kagome’s that you hold onto too!?” the slayer nearly screamed, thrusting that white and blue dotted piece of cloth like a trophy above her head.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” the half-demon retorted, tucking the rock in his robe. His hand glided past a smooth surface, something foreign to his clothes but close to him nonetheless. His fingers grasped at its binding. Miroku chuckled, much to InuYasha and Sango’s dismay. “What’s so funny, Bozo?”

“It’s just that there is a piece of Lady Kagome that you could never be rid of.” The half-demon squinted, his steeped ire pacified but not peacefully. Miroku inhaled theatrically, placing one hand on his hip and pointing his shakujo in an accusatory manner. InuYasha stepped back, eyes widening. Miroku leaned forward, revealing Gyokuto’s black hair from over his shoulder. “InuYasha, sit!”

“Ah!” InuYasha was instantly squashing his ears at the command, waiting to be slammed into the dirt. He never fell. A shiver sprinted up and down his spine all while Miroku laughed hysterically at his expense. The monk was doubled over, hands holding tightly to his dumb knees. “You bastard!” InuYasha roared, his fist already in the perfect position to whack some sense into that cheap excuse of a holy man. But then two big, brown eyes and cheeks that were way too round filled his vision and InuYasha stopped. Stupid monk with his stupid children and his stupid wife.

InuYasha was grumbling, sounds not forming words; thoughts running into dead ends. And then those thoughts were drowned out, consumed by the sound of his pulse, and InuYasha decided to share it. “I keep this!” He closed his eyes and held out a yellow book that read High School Mathematics: Quick Solutions to All Problems.

“Oh, so you did steal something of Lady Kagome’s,” Miroku responded, walking up to inspect the item.

“Uh, yeah. Wait, I didn’t steal it from her bag, I borrowed it from her house way before we met you lot.”

“Is that one of her school things?” Sango inquired, already mere centimeters from InuYasha. He didn’t remember her being that fast.

InuYasha shrugged. “Dunno, Myoga thought it had spells in it.”

“And you never gave it back?” Miroku asked, a whimsical smirk settling into place. InuYasha wanted to gag. “That would make it a stolen good.”

“Oh yeah, and what’s it to you?”

Miroku took the book from InuYasha, flipping through its pages. Some of them turned in chunks, demon guts and rainy weather having seeped through his robe at some point or another. “It’s weathered; surely Lady Kagome wouldn’t treat her belongings this way.”

“Hey, give that back!” InuYasha objected, attempting to swipe it. Miroku swerved, continuing to review the material like he knew exactly how it read. “I just forgot about it is all.” He was lying.

“I hope it wasn’t important. You know how upset Kagome gets about school,” Sango commented, her shoulders bouncing Kin’u lightly.

“She never said nothing to me about it,” InuYasha brushed off with a shrug, an odd pining for Kagome’s shrill nagging manifesting itself as plain as day. Miroku showed the book to Gyokuto, and she lifted a chubby arm out, her moist palm slamming onto one of the pages. “H-hey! Don’t let your kid touch that, it’s mine!”

Miroku ignored InuYasha completely, a warm expression gracing his features as he let his daughter continue her smacking. “Gyokuto, one day Papa will teach you how to read and maybe you’ll understand this.”

“Good luck, even I can’t make heads or tails of it,” InuYasha said, reaching out and successfully getting it back. The abrupt motion must have surprised Gyokuto because she began crying, and it didn’t take long for Kin’u to join in, and InuYasha let out another groan. This was all too much.

“Aw, I’m sorry, girls. Did the big dog startle you?”

“Whatever, let’s go,” InuYasha grunted, stomping ahead of the family once more.

The red of his robe leaked through to his vision and singed his cheeks. This conversation should never have happened; he shouldn’t have acknowledged that towel and he shouldn’t have gotten so worked up over the sit.

“InuYasha, slow down!” He ignored the request, feeling as if steam shot from his nostrils. He had half a mind to make a break for it, already far past his limit. “Come on,” Miroku all but pleaded.

“What!? What is it that you want now?” The half-demon barked, shoving Kagome’s book back into his robes.

InuYasha couldn’t explain why he’d waited for the two. Miroku’s expression was squared into a place that InuYasha wanted to keep his distance from. It looked like he was about to spout shit straight from the Buddha. “My friend, please understand.”

“Understand what, exactly?”

Piercing deep indigo clashed against flurrying amber.

“That we inhale and must consequently exhale, never experiencing the same breath twice. This is also true for those we meet on our path to enlightenment. They too must leave without returning, but the life they’ve given us can be appreciated long after we’ve breathed anew.” A single bushy brow rose at the analogy. Miroku cleared his throat, continuing, “Lady Kagome may be in her world, but she has managed to keep a part of herself here nonetheless. Through towels or books, my friend, she is with us and we should value that.” He patted InuYasha, right where Kagome’s book lay underneath layers of fire rat.

-X-

• “i know better, but I still feel you all around. i know better, but you’re still around.” -taylor swift, “marjorie” •

[adhdeancas]

Dean Winchester (and the script leaks last night) possessed me to write this.

Dean happens upon Chuck's latest book: Carry On. Except it ends differently than it really went, and the ending? It's really fucking bad.

tw: suicide mention, transphobia (quickly shut the fuck down) 

Dean doesn’t make a habit of going to bookstores. Not because he hates books, contrary to what Sam might think; he just prefers to buy used books. There’s something comforting about a book that has already been worn and read over and over, that already shows how much the previous owner loved it. Plus, y’know, big corporations are evil and all that. And Dean only allows himself to overlook that when his stomach or his wallet wins over his hatred of the shitty mass-produced products. 

This time it was Jack who won; he’s obsessed with this new fantasy series and the new book just came out, so there’s no way he can hunt it down on Ebay. He makes his way to the fantasy and sci-fi section, eyes roaming over the displays of new releases, and his eye catches on something that turns his blood cold. 

“Supernatural: Carry On, The Final Book of the Winchesters’ Epic Journey” takes up a whole table, the generic and overly serious cover jeering out at him. 

He storms over to the display, anger covering up for the way his body feels light as a feather and like lead all at once, and picks up a book. “Why is Sam always fucking shirtless?” he mutters, the only thought that allows itself from the mess inside his head to his mouth. 

“Book sales.” A voice behind him says. He turns to see a teenager with their arms crossed over their work polo, pierced lip fixed into a customer-unfriendly frown.

“People want to see that?”

They snort, a small grin turning up the corner of their lips. It reminds Dean of Cas. “No. But that’s what advertisers think all ‘women’ want,” They use air quotes. 

He raises an eyebrow and asks. “Women?”

They shrug and uncross their arms, leaning back against the display table behind them. Their nametag says Jadyn. “Supernatural’s biggest block of readers is queer. I’d go out on a limb and say a lot of those the marketers think of as ‘women’ aren’t, or if they are, they aren’t itching to see Sam’s six pack.” Jadyn smirks. 

Dean takes a second to digest that, then grins down at the book, thinking past Sam’s apparently badly-received nudity now. “So how’d they like it?” he asks, waving the book a bit and looking up at Jadyn. Apparently they know a lot about the fans of the books, and for once, he’s proud of the way the story ended. 

Jadyn’s face sets into all hard lines. “Most people fucking hated it.” they say bluntly, then, probably remembering that he’s a customer, correct. “Sorry. I mean, it got some good reviews, mostly from people who like Wincest, but beyond that, it had some problematic plot points.”

Dean winces at the reminder of the ship between him and his brother, then scrunches his whole face together in confusion. “Wait, what? Why?” Why would Wincest fans like it? What was problematic about their end?

Jadyn shifts from foot to foot. “I don’t wanna spoil anything for you-”

“I don’t care about spoilers, just give me the short version.” Dean says quickly. A quiet panic is rising in him, and suddenly he has a horrible feeling that he’s not holding the truth in his hands anymore. 

“Uh, okay… Well, the most obvious thing is the bury-your-gays thing, then there’s the fact that it completely contradicted the rest of the lore. And it was ableist, misogynistic, and messed up, like, every character’s arc.” they take a breath, clearly worked up by it. “Even if they changed any of the details too, it was all built on Dean’s death, and that’s just bullshit. Sorry.” they apologize again, apparently mistaking Dean’s stricken expression to be in reaction to their rant and swearing. 

“No, nah, you’re… you’re okay. Uh, thanks.” he waves a hand and wanders away from them, only remembering Jack’s book when he’s almost to the register. He manages to make his way back and find the damn thing, but he’s still in a fog when he gets to the register. 

“Did anyone help you in the store today?”

“Huh?” he looks up and meets the middle-aged cashier’s gaze for the first time. Brent, from the nametag, looks at him impatiently. “Oh, yeah, uh… Jadyn. Jadyn helped me.” Brent scoffs and starts typing with a shake of the head. “Uh, is there a problem?” Dean asks, a little annoyed at this cashier’s unnecessary attitude. He usually doesn’t care if an employee’s rude, because they have to deal with assholes all the time and honestly Dean isn’t much better, but this one gives him a bad feeling. 

“No, no, sorry. It’s just - “Jadyn’s” got this idea that he’s a girl. Makes everybody call him that name now too. Just-” Brent shakes his head. “I mean, you get it. Their generation, everybody wants to be special.”

Dean glares. “No, I don’t get it, Brent.” He says through gritted teeth. “Seems to me like Jadyn probably deals with enough assholes like you that her asking for a little basic decency is the exact opposite of special. Sounds pretty normal, actually.” He can see the fear creep into Brent’s eyes, and he knows the cashier is reacting to the murderous look in his eyes more than his actual words. 

Brent hands Dean his bag of books with a quiet, “Here you go.”

Dean snatches it away. “Oh, Brent?” he checks over his shoulder to make sure they’re alone and then leans across the counter into Brent’s space. “You should find a new job, one where you don’t have to interact with other people. At least until you learn how to stop being a piece of shit.” He starts to ease away but thinks better about it. “And if you think that’s a suggestion, it’s not. My husband likes this book coming out next month that I’ll need to buy, and if I see you here when I come, well… it would be really embarrassing for you to tell all your little friends that you got your ass beat by a ‘special’ guy, huh?” He pats Brent on the cheek condescendingly and leaves with a huff. 

Damn transphobes. 

He only remembers the book once he’s back in Baby, and he takes the time to drive out of town before he pulls over to read it. It’s an old abandoned church, the cross long since fallen from the roof and the doors hanging off their hinges. He sits on the steps just because being in Baby seems claustrophobic for once in his life, and going back to the bunker to look at this is just… not happening.

Dean only skims the beginning to see that it starts the same. The ground erupting with bodies, hell spitting out its most-conveniently placed nasties, Rowena sacrificing herself, Cas leaving. His throat closes up at that, at Chuck’s description of Cas’s heartbroken expression as he climbs the stairs of the bunker. He clears his throat and skips to the end, right past Cas’s death that he doesn’t have the time to think about right now, past them defeating Chuck and then stops. He goes back a few pages, trying to find the disconnect. 

The story’s different.

After Jack takes on God’s power, in the book, he’s totally fine. Not almost vibrating out of his skin or anything, not crying like the three year old he is because he’s scared. Not like it really happened. He just smiles and leaves him and Sam, and they let him go. 

Dean scoffs, skimming over the story as it just gets more ridiculous. 

In the book, he doesn’t even try to save Cas. They barely even mention him. And they never mention Eileen, either. In fact, Dean notes disbelievingly, practically the only characters in the last few chapters are him and Sam. They’re hunting again.

“What, is Chuck trying to keep the series going?” he whispers to himself, anger flaring through him. They let Chuck live, and he decided to write obnoxious fanfiction about them? He’s gonna kill that shameless little fucker. For real, this time. He deserves it.

In the book, Sam and Dean torture some vampire mime, and they enjoy it. Dean cringes; this is really what Chuck thinks of them. Then they tussle with more vamps in a barn and- 

Dean’s brain stops working. He rereads the scene again and again. 

“There’s something in my… something in my back. It feels like it’s right through me.” 

Dean Winchester dies in a dirty barn, on a piece of freaking rebar. 

More than that, Dean realizes on his fourth read-through. This Dean? He tried to drag out his speech, Dean can tell by the way he pauses for fucking drama. He would never do that. He would never talk to Sam for fifteen hellish minutes when he could be trying. Trying to live, so he can actually get his life back on track, get his family back. No, he made that speech stalling. He made that speech so Sam wouldn’t try to save him. 

“You gotta admit, I had one helluva ride.” He was strangely calm.

Chuck made him kill himself.

Dean reads the rest of the book through blurry eyes, reading an ambiguous and nothing-ending, one where he’s somehow happy to be dead and driving around in heaven alone while Sam raises a kid into hunting and cries about Dean decades after he’s died. Eileen isn’t mentioned. Cas is mentioned once, and Bizzarro-Dean doesn’t even think about seeing him, apparently. The whole book ends with a hug between him and Sam, both dead. Both alone. 

Dean rips the ending up. He tears through the stupid paper covering and keeps ripping the pages up until they’re the size of confetti. His lower lip wobbles. He throws the whole thing against the side of the building, and it tumbles through the broken doorway and drops into a pile of dust and dirt. “That isn’t the fucking ending.” he grounds out, knocking his hand against the flimsy handrail. It gives a little under his fist and he kicks at it. “That isn’t the fucking ending!”

He’s having a panic attack. Again. He tries to take deep breaths, but they’re gulping, too big, they’re making him panic more. He scrambles back to Baby and grabs his phone, presses the first number on his favorites list and waits for him to answer on speaker phone.

“Hey Dean, what’s up?” Sam sounds like he’s been laughing. There are voices in the background, and Dean tries to convince himself one of them is Eileen. 

“Hey Sammy.” he chokes out, trying to sound normal. “You busy?”

There’s a pause, and then the sounds in the background. “Nah, Rowena’s just over.” he says casually. 

“So those voices in the background were-”

“Rowena and Eileen, yeah. They’re trying to convince me we need to go to Mexico. For the beaches.” A smile in his voice. Dean lets out a sigh of relief.  What’s up, Dean? You need something?” The smile drops, and Sam’s worried. 

Sam’s okay. Sam’s okay. “No, nah. Hey, you heard from Donna lately?” Dean just needs to triple-check.

“Uh, no, not since Sunday dinner… Dean, you okay?”

“Yeah, she just- she hasn’t been answering my texts. Just wanted to make sure.” Dean lies quickly. His breathing is still uneven, but his body is settling into uneven shakes. 

Sam sounds skeptical. “Yeah, well, she did tell us it’s been pretty busy at work lately. Y’know, everybody going out for the first time with COVID, getting stupid. Plus, y’know, nowhere’s drowning in EMTs right now.”

“Right. Yeah.” Dean takes a deep breath, a distant memory of Donna talking about that coming back to him.

“Pretty sure you were setting up a D&D session with Charlie while she was talking about that,” Sam laughs. Dean knows he means it as a subtle jab, but there’s too much relief flooding through him to care. Still, a string is pulled taut in him, and Sam can’t fix that completely.

“Gotta go, Sam,” Dean hangs up before Sam can say anything else, and goes to his next contact. It rings for far too long, and Dean’s heartbeat picks back up to thundering.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Cas,” Dean breathes out. “Cas, you know I love you, right?” He needs to test all the bounds of this, to make sure, just to make sure. Make sure Chuck isn’t still fucking with him. Because apparently, Chuck won’t let him be queer. Not in his story. Not out loud.

He can hear Cas’s eyebrow raise through the phone, and his chest is overcome with stupid fondness. “I would be a little worried if you didn’t.”

Dean grins widely. “Like, romantically. I’m in love with you. Because you’re the love of my life and I’m bisexual.” He says it all like it’s a checklist, like he expects some cosmic being to slap a hand over his mouth before he gets each next phrase out.

“Yes, Dean. We’ve been married almost two months.” Cas is smiling. It happens everytime he talks about their wedding. Dean adores it. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, now it is.” His whole body relaxes, still vibrating with leftover panic, but satisfied. “I got Jack’s book.”

“Oh, good. He’ll be so pleased.” Cas pauses. “Dean, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Dean eases off the ground and sends a last look at the dilapidated church before climbing into Baby. “Just- read a bad book. I’ll tell you about it later. When I get home.”

[nyctophilin]

Maybe I Like You

@nerdyweaselpeanutperson​⤀ Hey there, hope you’re doing well~ Can I please request something smutty with seungmin? Maybe friends to lovers! and thigh riding pretty please 💫

Description⤀ Seungmin cared deeply for his friend this is why he never liked any of her boyfriends. The most recent one bothered him the most. However, maybe he wasn’t that bad.

All rights reserved © nyctophilin 2020. Re-posting, copying and translating any of my works is prohibited.

Pairing⤀ Seungmin x fem!Reader

Word count⤀ 3.8k

Genre⤀ College!AU, Friends to lovers, Smut, Fluff, Angst

Warnings⤀ dom!seungmin, thigh ridding, marking, excessive use of the word "jackass", bad grammar/spelling(maybe)

Pearl Note⤀ This took so long to write. It took me like a week or so. Also, I don't know why it got so long. I hope you like it. Please don't refrain from telling me what you think or if you have any constructive criticism. Requests are also open, just saying.

      "You know, sometimes I worry about you. What is such a handsome and intelligent young man doing without a girlfriend?" She joked causing the man to roll his eyes. 

      Y/N and Seungmin were currently in the library of the campus trying to study for their organic chemistry class. Seungmin was trying to study, Y/N tried to study got bored midway and now was tormenting the poor boy who was just trying to pass.

      "If you tell me what such a beautiful and smart young lady is doing with a jackass like him I'll give an answer to your question." Seungmin didn't move his eye from the book he was reading. Y/N frowned and crossed her arms.

      "He is nice! Just because he gave you a dirty look doesn't mean he's a jackass. And it's not like you are the most agreeable person there is." Seungmin looked at her and raised an eyebrow. "Don't look at me like that! I'll never forget how you told that girl that her cooking is worse than eating shit."

      "She gave me food poisoning! And it didn't even taste good!" Seungmin raised his voice and got some dirty looks from the other students that didn't have a Y\N to bother them while studying. He knew that he should have been nicer to that girl but at least she wasn't bringing her horrible cookies to college anymore.

      "You never like the guys I date and you always call them jackasses. Once I called my ex jackass because of you. He never let it go after!" Seungmin smirked at that. Her ex was indeed a jackass. 

      It wasn't that he didn't like them. Some of the guys she dated were nice, the problem was that she dated them. He didn't know what to call his feelings for her. Love, like, just a simple crush. He knew however that if he wants to keep their friendship then he has to keep quiet about his feelings. At least when she is in a relationship but she never seems to be out of one. Every time she was going through a break up he will give her time to get over it and right before he could make a move she will present her new boyfriend to him.

      "I never like them because you always break up with them in like 3 months or so. There's no point in getting attached. It will only hurt me!" He said the last sentence in an exaggerated tone clutching his chest. 

      Y/N smacked his arm lightly while chucking and decided to go back to studying after. Seungmin was grateful for that since he really needed to study but also he didn't know how much more talking about her with other men he could have endured.

      Seungmin rolled his eyes at the sound of the other man's voice, an action that seemed to turn into a habit lately. He turned on his heels and smiled falsely at Y/N's boyfriend. What was his name? He couldn't be bothered to remember it. The thin guy was approaching him and he thought that if he were to fight him, he would surely win and maybe that jackass would stop bothering Y/N. Why was he trying to talk to Seungmin anyway?

      "Man, I was looking for you all over campus! Where've you been?" The man asked and put his hand around Seungmin's neck.

      He tried suppressing a grimace before deciding to answer his question. "I was in Biology class with Y/N and you know it. You saw me entering the classroom." Was he really as stupid as Seungmin liked to make him in front of her?

      "I know but I thought maybe you went outside to play some soccer after class. Oh, I forgot, you are a nerd!" The dude let out a disgusting laugh and punched Seungmin in the chest making the air leave his guts for a split second. Ah, here it was, the jackass was finally out!

      "Listen, I'm busy so if you have nothing important to tell me I'd like to respectfully ask you to fuck off so I can move on with my life!" Seungmin was already sick of this dude. How could Y/N spend several hours a day with him and not go insane he'll never understand. 

      The dude removed his hand from around Seungmin's neck and stopped in his track. He cleared his throat and lightly scratched the back of his head, his bony arm even more prominent.

      "Man, I have to ask you something important." Seungmin nodded his head a bit irritated. "Me and Y/N have been together for three weeks already and we haven't done it once man! I don't know what to do anymore!"

      Seungmin had a grossed out face for a few moments before raising an eyebrow. "And you are telling me this because? Do you expect me to go to her and tell her to do it with you or something?"

      "No man! I'm not an idiot!" Seungmin held back a sarcastic remark. "I want you to tell me how to get her, man! You know, tell me what turns her on and stuff like that!"

      Seungmin rolled his eyes. "How am I supposed to know that?" The dude started laughing but stopped soon when he saw that the pink-haired man was not laughing.

      "Don't tell me that you've been friends for so long but never done it!"

      "You are right, we've been friends! I don't know how you and your friends interact and frankly, I don't care. She probably doesn't want to do it because she knows how small your dick is!" Seungmin was utterly disgusted by the conversation he just had.

      Not only was he a jackass for telling him something so personal about his relationship with Y/N but he also was stupid enough to believe that if he had any tips he would share it. Why would he tell anybody how to make her feel good, how to make her squirm under them, how to push her buttons so much and hard that she'll beg for you to have mercy on her and give her any kind of relieve. 

      Fuck, he needed to stop before it would be too hard for him to concentrate on his classes. Without saying anything else he turned around and continued on his way towards the chemistry lab.

      It has been two weeks since Seungmin had that talk with that jackass and he tried avoiding Y/N all this time in hope that he'll see less of that dude. The two of them still hang out together, had their normal study sessions, had lunch together when their schedules allowed them and texted every day but he would start responding harder when she would bring that dude up or would refuse to walk with them to classes or cafes his reasoning being that he wanted to give them privacy. He had to admit that he felt bad for ignoring her because of that dude but he really couldn't stand him.

      Today, however, he and she were supposed to have a movie night. Seungmin wanted to refuse when he first heard her proposal but after she suggested they do it at his apartment he accepted it. There's no way in hell that jackass would come to his apartment. He also missed her. He never realized just how much time they spend together until he started avoiding her.

      Everything was set for their little gathering. The only thing that was missing was Y/N but there still were 15 more minutes until she was supposed to arrive. Seungmin went into the tiny kitchen to take the popcorn from the microwave and put it in bowls. When he returned into what was supposed to be both his living room and bedroom he heard the bell ring. He placed the bowls on a small table close to his bed and went to open the door.

      When he saw her he felt the air leaving his lungs. She was always pretty but she was unusually breathtaking that day. He invited her in and they exchanged small talk before deciding on a movie. She seemed weird. Did she catch on the fact that he tried ignoring her? She seemed just fine the day before at lunch. When he made a comment about the movie and she hummed in approval instead of whining about him ruining the atmosphere he knew something was up.

      He analyzed her for a bit before finally deciding to ask her if everything was fine. "Are you ok? You seem so out of it tonight."

      She sighed before mumbling a short "I'm fine!" and continuing to watch the movie. Seungmin threw her a dirty look before snatching the remote from her side and turning the TV off. "Hey, I was watching that!" Y/N exclaimed stretching her arm for the remote.

      "And I'll let you continue if you tell me what happened. You are weirder than usual." Seungmin extended his arm in the air making sure she can't reach it.

      "I told you I'm fine!" She raised her voice still trying to reach the remote.

      "And I don't believe you!" Seungmin also raised his voice.

      "What do you want me to tell you? You want me to tell you that I and that jackass broke up? That you were right about him? That I'm incapable of having a long term relationship?" Y/N screamed in his face, immediately after getting up and going into the kitchen. Seungmin paused for a second before going after her.

      "He broke up with you? Why? This is why are you mad?" He bombarded her with questions and she wanted to curse him for having such a small apartment. He wasn't trapping her against the counter per se since there were a good one meter and a half between them but his kitchen was so small that he was blocking the only exit. She shouldn't have gone there. She gulped before answering him.

      "He didn't break up with me, I did!"

      Seungmin gave her a questioning look. "Then why are you mad about it?" His voice was softer than before.

      "I'm not mad about it!"

      "Then why are you mad?"

      "I don't know why I'm mad!" She screamed again and tried storming past him but he caught both her hands and stopped her. 

      Before she could try to escape from him he hugged her tightly rubbing her back soothingly. Y/N sat like that for a while taking in his smell before realizing what she was doing and pushing him away and going into his bedroom. She sat on the bed and turned the TV back on continuing to watch the movie.

      Seungmin sat down next to her cautiously and sighed loudly. "When did you break up? Was it today?" He asked her being curious about their sudden breakup. They didn't seem to have any problems when he last saw them together.

      "No, it's been two days." Seungmin looked at her in shook. Two days and she told him nothing about it. Why would she do something like that?

      "Why didn't you tell me?" She decided to ignore his question mostly because she herself was confused as to why she didn't tell him. "Come on Y/N! I'm your best friend! Would you really keep something so important from me for no reason?"

      "Oh well, I was gonna make a new boyfriend and break up with him in two months anyway so there was no point in burdening you with my problems. It's not like you care anyway!" She was shocked with herself unaware of where did that come from.

      "What?" Confusion was visible in both Seungmin's face and voice.

      "You always say how my relationships last only around three months. This was just another one of my many breakups. I'll get another relationship in a week, you don't have to worry about me!" She avoided his eyes even after she finished speaking.

      "Seriously? You know I never mean that in a bad way. You just have the awesome luck to find jackasses that break up with you the moment the relationship turns the slightest serious. This time, however, you broke up with him. You are never the one to break up. Why did you break up?" He was furious but at the same time, his voice had a glimpse of concern in it. 

      He really was confused as to why she chose to end it with that jackass. Not that he was mad, this was arguably one of the best news he received in the past year. Y/N was visibly biting the inside of her cheek contemplating whether she should tell him the real reason she broke up with him or not. After sighing loudly she turned her head to look him in the eyes.

      "Because of you." She finally let out the thoughts she tried to deny for the past two days.

      "Because of me?" If Seungmin wasn't confused enough before, he was now. Was this some kind of joke she tried to play on him? Why on hell would she break up with her boyfriend because of him? As if she could read his mind she started talking.

      "It started around two weeks ago. He suddenly asked me if the two of us really haven't been in any sort of relationship besides friendship. When I answered yes he said that it must have been hard to be always together and never fuck which I found weird coming from my boyfriend. Then every time he'll ask to do it and I'll refuse he'll bring you up again saying that if he was you maybe I wouldn't say no. Then you started avoiding us which I didn't found weird since you had a lot of assignments lately but he started saying things like you doing it to avoid seeing me with him or going to jerk off thinking of me."

      She breathed finally trying to collect her thoughts so she could continue. "Suddenly our relationship was revolving around you. If I did things I did them because of you and if I didn't it was also because of you. What kind of boyfriend does this to their girlfriend? It felt like he was indirectly accusing me of cheating." Her voice was fading slowly turning into a whisper. "And all that talking about you made me over analyze some of our past interactions, made me think of you in less than appropriate instances, made me..."

      She couldn't finish her sentence because Seungmin leaned in and kissed her stopping her from continuing. His lips were soft and tender and the kiss wasn't rushed. He was cupping her face with one hand and with the other he was holding her waist one of his fingers rubbing circles into it. It took her a second to kiss him back but when she did it was like everything around them stopped for a few seconds. When they broke the kiss she felt empty without his lips on her's.

      "Y/N, I.." Seungmin was cut short by Y/N that grabbed the collar of his t-shirt and smashed their lips together. 

      This time the kiss was more rushed, all the pent up frustration from staying apart for so long finally releasing. She licked his bottom lip asking for entrance which he gladly allowed not wanting to be apart for even a second. Both his hands were now resting on her waist touching her gently compared to the way his mouth was devouring her's. Soon his mouth left her's and went down to lay kisses from her jaw down to her neck.

      He tugged on her waist making her straddle his hips and immediately pressed her to his body. He continued his attacks on her neck occasionally sucking on it leaving red marks that were to become marks later. When he bit on one particular spot she let out a breathy moan and tangled her fingers in his hair for support. She tugged on his hair and brought their lips back together in a kiss that wasn't rushed but it was passionate.

      Without realizing, Seungmin forced her hips down on his thighs, her sensitive core rubbing on his rough jeans making her whimper. He smirked in the kiss and raised an eyebrow, tho Y/N couldn't see that. Seungmin broke the kiss and Y/N moaned in protest.

      "Aren't you quite needy?" He teased moving a piece of hair out of her face. "Jackass told me you wouldn't wanna do it and I just assumed it wasn't your favourite activity. I guess I was wrong?" He moved her hips again making her bite back a moan.

      "Seungminie!" Her voice sounded like a plead. What was she asking for? She wasn't sure herself. All she knew was that her best friend and she were oblivious to their feelings for too long and she didn't wanna wait any other second.

      "Hmm?" Seungmin hummed looking at her through hooded eyes. "Do you need anything?" He was just as impatient as her, maybe even more but seeing her like that made him want to tease her. So what if he waits a little bit more? If he gets to see her like that it's worth it.

      She let out an embarrassed sound at his words. She wasn't in the mood to play games but she knew Seungmin. She swallowed her pride and watched him in the eyes before talking. "Seungmin please touch me!"

      The man smirked at her words. "Gladly." Y/N went in for a kiss only to be pushed away by him. She watched his confusion visible in her eyes. "First take your clothes off. I wanna see how pretty you are!" Y/N blushed at his indirect compliment before getting up from his lap.

      Seungmin leaned slightly back, his eyes following her every move. Trying to ignore his gaze she took off her sweater and let it fall to the floor. The black bra she was wearing was hugging her breasts just the right way and Seungmin couldn't help licking his lips. She took her shorts off next being left in her underwear that didn't match. She regrets not wearing something sexier but at the same time, she never thought that her best friend and she would end up in this situation. If she hated it, Seungmin surely didn't. He thought it was cute and sexy enough for something as impromptu as that.

      He made a gesture with his hand for her to come closer. When she did he put his hands on her hips and leaned in to kiss her exposed ribs. He let his tongue draw figures on her skin while his fingers hooked the side of her panties and pulled them down her legs.

      "Look how cute you are." Seungmin moved one of his hands from her hips in between her legs rubbing her with his palm. Y/N shivered and put her hands on his shoulders. "Come sit on my thigh." His tone was soft but demanding at the same time making her obey his words immediately. After she made herself comfortable on his thigh he put his hands on her waist and leaned in to kiss her.

      His hands travelled up her back and once they reached her shoulder blades he moved them in front of her gently cupping her breasts. She let out a moan into the kiss and started slowly rubbing herself on his clothed thigh. Seungmin smirked into the kiss at her action, his hands pushing her bra down to expose her full breasts. His mouth left her in favour of her breasts and he started kissing the space between them, purposefully avoiding any sensitive areas.

      His teasing was making her wetter by the seconds but she kept a steady pace of her hips. Without any warning Seungmin's mouth wrapped around one of Y/N's nipples and he let his tongue circle it making her shiver. Her hands went into his hair and she started moving faster on his thigh. Seungmin put one of his arms on the small of her back pushing her stomach forward. The new position had her clit directly rub into his thigh, a loud moan escaping her mouth.

      "What was that? Does my baby enjoy riding my thigh that much?" Immediately after speaking, he bit the bundle of nerves harder than he intended. The stimulation combined with the pet name had her ridding him faster chasing for her release. Seungmin sensed the change of pace and grabbed her hips abruptly moving them agonizingly slow.

      "No, don't!" She whined trying in vain to move her hips faster.

      "Why? You don't need to hurry. Or are you perhaps desperate to cum?" Seungmin started moving her faster while sucking marks on her neck. Y/N nodded frantically feeling a knot building in her stomach. "If you don't speak I have no way of knowing what you want." He continued his attacks on her neck occasionally tracing the distance between two marks with his tongue.

      "Yes, Seungmin! I'm desperate to cum. Please let me cum!" Seungmin let go of her hips and instead cupped her breasts in his hands fondling them.

      "Whenever you are ready, baby." Y/N threw her head back and started moving her hips frantically, chasing her high. Seungmin continued to suck on her neck and play with her chest stimulating her further. She could feel her release approaching with each passing second.

      She finally came when Seungmin flexed his thigh, drenching his pants in her juices. She fell forward, breath hitched, body shaking from the intense orgasm she just had. Seungmin helped her ride her high by rubbing circled into the small of her back and whispering praises into her ear.

      When Y/N opened her eyes she observed the TV presenting the credits of the movie she was previously watching with Seungmin. She was now wearing a hoodie, most probably Seungmin's and an arm was snaked around her waist. She turned around slowly and she was met with a smiling Seungmin looking right back at her.

      "Are you awake?" He moved a few hair strands away from her before resting his hand on her arm.

      "Mhmm." She hummed softly enjoying the intimacy of the moment. "What happened?"

      "You feel asleep. Did I really made you feel that good?" He teased inching his face closer to her's.

      She smiled and threw an arm over his waist snuggling more into him. "Who would have guessed that our Seungminie was such a dominant one. Do you have any more surprises?"

      It was his turn to blush now. He hid his head in the crotch of her neck and squeezed her body harder. "Let's go on a date!" He whispered almost inaudible and if it wasn't for his head to be right next to her ear maybe she shouldn't have caught that.

      "I'd love to!"

[onlyfortheplot]

But... He died!

this really happened irl.I just finished reading in another life a day ago and I am still sensitive whenever IAL flashes in my mind and idk why the other day while eating a banana i suddenly remember IAL and it made me tear up ; Z ; so can I request a hcs of bois (ur choice) suddenly comforting their s/o because out of the blue they started to sobs while eating somethin' and when asked they answered because they read a vv sad story and still affected by it? tHANK YOU SO MUCH IF U WILL NOTICE DIS- Anon

Pairing: Bokuto x Reader, Tsukishima x Reader

Warnings: Slight language, Assassination Classroom spoilers, The Fault in Our Stars spoilers

A/N: I feel like I’m bad at asks because I go off topic?? But, I loved writing this, anon, please marry me, it was SUCH AN AMAZING ask! LIKE HOW CAN I NOT NOTICE THIS!! Also I never actually ready In Another Life. I don’t plan to??? Like I’m scared of reading it! But, I can tell you the Bokuto x Reader part is from personal experience because I am 𝔀𝓮𝓪𝓴. Anyway I hope you Enjoy. Asks are OPEN.

You had been warned, way before you had decided to watch Assassination Classroom, that you were going to cry at one point, but you didn’t care what’s life without a broken heart?

So, during a long weekend, you built yourself a small fort, snuggling into the covers and started watching

You were emotionally wrecked by the end of it, especially in the last episode. Tears streamed down your face as you watched Koro Sensei turn into small, elegant lights

You stayed in your small bed fort, ignoring every call or text that was sent your way. How could he die. He was such an amazing character.

You thought, stupidly, you would be fine once school started again, too busy on homework and tests to remember the yellow octopus

Oh how wrong you were.

The first incident happened when someone brought up eating octopuses, during lunch, a tear dropped down your cheek as an image of Koro-Sensei flooded your mind.

The second incident happened when someone had mentioned the end of their favorite anime. You sobbed at the thought of not seeing any of the characters anymore.

The third, and final, incident happened in front of your own boyfriend, something you should have thought of twice before doing.

You had walked into the gym, after school. Searching for your boyfriend. Your eyes were red and puffy from the numerous amounts of breakdowns that had occurred.

Your lips wobbled at the thought.  RIP Koro-Sensei

You kept your head down, as you walked into the gym, obviously sad.

It had taken a few minutes for Bokuto, and the rest of the team, to even realize that you had even arrived.

They had quickly surrounded you, encasing you in a small circle as the looked at you. Their eyes widened as you looked up at them tears forming in your eyes.

“Y/N-chan?” Konoha asked, placing a hand on your shoulder, inquiring eyes pierced you as you looked away

“Y/N, baby, what’s wrong” Bokuto asked, bending down slightly as he scooped you into a hug.

“Bokuto” your lips quivered as you clutched his back, pressing your face into the crook of his neck, the slight smell of sweat and mint lingered.

“Bokuto.” you sobbed, tears pooling in his neck, the team lept back in surprise as you had a whole breakdown in front of them

They scattered around, shouting to each other to help you.

“Get her some water.” “Oi, give her your jacket” “Do you want to buy some ice cream? ”

“Y/N, what’s wrong”Bokuto asked, voice slightly muffled, 

“Koro-Sensei is dead” you shouted, as the entirety of the gym froze giving you an odd look.

“Who?” Bokuto leaned back from you tilting his head in confusion, “Koro-sensei.”

You let out another sob, giving a frantic nod. 

“He’s dead!” you cried out, fingers digging into his back. Bokuto felt tears forming in his eyes as he watched you bawl.

“He’s dead!”he whispered, before turning around to his teammates, who gave them an odd look, “Guys, he’s dead!” 

He brought you in, sobbing into your hair as you sobbed into his chest.

“He’s dead.” you simultaneously bawled

The team looked at you both, deadpan and slightly disappointed.

“Petition to get a new Captain.” The vote was unanimous. 

He warned, quite a few times, to not read The Fault in our Stars. He told you, so many goddamn times, you would cry.

And cry you did. Reading the book, just to piss him off. Nobody gonna tell me what to do

Tears had formed, blurring your vision as you closed the book. You bit your lip to stop the heart-wrenching sob that threatened to come out.

You never expected that. Not that. 

The only thoughts in your mind was the death of Augustus Waters. He was dead.

Your lips were forced apart, as the trembling increased, taking in a deep breath before you let out a sob.

It was loud and forceful, rasping your throat as more continued to come

Drops of tears fell, promptly on your book. You were sure Kei was going to kill you for even letting anything happen to his book, but you were too heart-broken to care.

You took a deep breath as you chucked the book onto your head, watching as it landed with a small plop

I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. She didn’t know who she was mad at. But, you were mad. Mad at him for dying. Mad at yourself for reading it. And mad at Kei for letting you read it.

You gritted her teeth, tears falling loosely, as you swiped your phone from the near table, quickly unlocking it

A few text messages from friends and two from Kei. You scowled.

You went into his contacts and blocked him, proud of yourself for giving him some his own medicine.

You turned out the nights, closing your shutters, as you snuggled into bed, ignoring the very tiny rip in your heart from the book. You stupid person

He spammed you through friends, making them send his own stupid collection of reaction memes. Tell me this boy doesn’t have rude reacts on his phone You gritted your teeth, as you turned your notifications off, shoving your phone back in your pocket

“And he got sick” you whirled around, hearing part of a conversation. Your heart raced as you stared. They looked at you, weirded out. You blushed, mumbling a small apology as you walked away. Oh god what was that. That’s heartbreak. That’s the tweet.

You found yourself more attentive as you walked down the hallways of Karasuno High. For two reasons.

One to stay away from your boyfriend, who you caught waiting for you by your locker

And second, well, you felt yourself on the verge of tears, every second of the day. 

To the point where you almost bawled in the middle of your science class.

“Class, today we’ll be talking about the mutation of cells.” You felt your breath hitch at that. 

“Can anyone tell me the name—” A hand stretched out, as someone blurted the answer, “Cancer.” The teacher furrowed her eyebrows, mocking an angry look.

“Correct, but wait for me you pick on you first.” The class laughed, as the student eyed the teacher sheepishly. That student was not me. No wrong Mushroom.

But you. You couldn’t care less about that student. Your ears were blurry as you bent over your desk. 

Cancer that’s what he died by. You choked on your sob as it caught in your throat. Earning her, some odd glances from the people around her.

Shit. Tears were so close to pouring out. It do be like that sometimes

You raised you hand, surprising the class and the teacher

“May I please use the restroom” you croaked out, standing up and motioning to leave the classroom before anyone could stop you. 

You walked, almost running, away from the classroom, trying very hard to hide the sobs that you wanted to release.

“Y/N.” a gruff voice made you stop in your tracks as blonde hair peeked into your sight

“Tsukki?” you questioned, your voice cracked as you looked at him. He was panting, slightly, as he glared at you. But, you could see the anxiousness in his eyes.

“Y/N, what the—”

“Kei,” you sobbed, throwing your arms over his neck, “Kei.”

He backed away, surprised at first, but soon rested his hands on your waist pulling you towards him.

“I hate you.” you hissed, tears pouring down your cheeks as you looked up at him, “I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate—”

He slammed a kiss onto your mouth, eager to shut you up I wanna be shut up now

“You read the book didn’t you.” he smirked, as you glared at him in all your anger

“I told you—”

“Shut up you useless excuse of a dinosaur.” you snapped, burrowing your face into his chest.

He smiled, stroking your hair as you sobbed into his chest, murmuring small phrases as you blabbered to him

“Ms. Y/N may I ask what you and Mr. Tsukishima are doing in the hallway?” Oh good Lord, you were screwed.