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miss-oranje-disco-dancer · 3 months

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give me your heart, make it real

pairing: javier peña x reader

tags/cw: smut, f! receiving oral, p in v, undercover as lovers, big dick javi, no use of y/n, no reader physical description, gentle lover javi

summary: javi needs a 'date' to a party (where escobar and crew will be idk), and asks reader to help him by dressing up in a 'slutty' outfit (not his words)

a/n: okay, yes, the title is from smooth by santana ft. rob thomas (on my javi-coded spotify playlist even tho it came out post-narcos). i've only made it to s2 ep4 and slept thru s1 ep8-10, so i've been committing the crime of not knowing the lore (i am so down bad for javi it's insane)

wc: 3.8k

"I have a lead, and you're coming with me," Javi says, already ushering you out of the room.

"You can't just whisk me away - I have to ask Messina."

"Messina gave me the go-ahead."

"I still need to-" You try to walk away from him but his hand loosely holds your arm, and before you break free, Messina says, approaching from behind, "Go with Agent Peña."

It must be a good lead if she's so quick to send you off with Peña. He looks you over, and says, "You can't wear that. How quickly can you change?"

"Into my tactical gear?"

"No, into a dress."

"Whose quinceañera are we attending?"

"Funny. I have intel about a party happening this evening. You're going to be my date. I need you in a dress - the shorter the better - and makeup, lots of it."

"You want me to look like a hooker?"

"Something like that."

You expect Javi to drop you off at your apartment, but he follows you in – he tries to follow you all the way to your bedroom, but you stop him. Maybe he’s just running on instinct, not used to having a woman invite him into her home without the intention of sex.

"Go sit in the living room," you scoff, pushing him away. "Make yourself at home." You keep your tone sarcastic to avoid letting any nervousness creep into your voice.

You're not supposed to look pretty, per se. He's expecting slutty, and yet, you still worry about looking too slutty in front of Javi. You've made a conscious effort to keep every interaction between the two of you professional, and you are determined to keep it that way. While you cake your face in cosmetics, you remind yourself that you would not go to such lengths for Javi. This is not for Javi, this is for a nobler cause than landing in his good graces. You’re fulfilling your duties as an agent on a mission to stop a narcoterrorist, and that paycheck better arrive at the end of month or you’ll be forced to get on your knees for your landlord who is not quite as handsome as Javi.

Yes, that’s right, Javi is handsome, disgustingly so. You loathe him, not for his sex appeal itself but for his awareness of such, not for the fact that he could leverage it against you, but for the fact that he thinks he can. He can.

Javier Peña sees all women the same way - not quite as objects, but conquests. Even if you're someone, rather than something, you're still someone he could have. But you don't bend to his will, at least you haven't yet, and that's the one thing you hold over him.

Your brain is logical, and holds you to a higher standard. This has nothing to do with desire, but simple facts put into an equation that gives you a clear output. Every time the illogical part of you that lives between your thighs begs for attention, your mind reminds you of your current mantra: Javi is a walking, talking, fucking bad idea.

The red lipstick and minidress are going to get you one step closer to catching Escobar, and if it means you have to be Javi's date for a night, then it's a challenge you're willing to take.

Maybe pretending to like him will be easier than pretending not to like him, which is something you've struggled to do every day for months.

It will not be, you realize, when he whistles at you from the couch when you step out of your bedroom, all dolled up.

"I'm carrying my gun in my purse," you say - an empty threat.

"Good girl."

"Say it one more time, Peña," you warn him, pulling your lethal weapon from a tacky, dated clutch. Your grip on it is weak and the safety is on. He mirrors your gesture, lazily pointing his own gun at you.

But he keeps his mouth shut.

Between the two of you, who's the better shot? You hope you'll never have to find out.

Javi shamelessly flirts his way around the office, but his arm around your waist is purely professional as he guides you from the car, parked a safe distance away, to your destination.

"You don't speak Spanish, you respond to 'chica', and you definitely do not have a gun on you. Got it?"

"What do you want me to call you?"

"As long as it's not my name, whatever you want, chica."

"Asshole."

Playing dumb is more fun than you thought it'd be. The wandering eyes of drug lords make you feel icky, but you don't have to respond when they speak to you. You don’t have to prove your intelligence to every man you encounter, every man who will make you take on any task they can’t handle, don’t have time for, or simply can’t be bothered to do. You don't have to do shit for once.

You keep a drink in your hand as a part of the act. Party girls like you drink, right? Honestly, you’re dead set on keeping your hands full in the hopes that you won’t be given the opportunity to do a line, inevitably refuse such an opportunity, and risk being outed as someone on the other side of this war. Javi doesn't need to tell you to pour your own drink - it's a lesson all girls are taught from a young age. Training as a federal agent may have taught you sharpshooting, but your mother told you how to avoid getting roofied.

You have a tolerance built up thanks to picking alcohol as one of your favorite vices back in college, but you know how to act drunk. While you sway a little, Javi tightens his grip on your waist to keep you grounded. You pretend not to understand when he mentions to a small group of men that you might be down for more than one man tonight, he just needs to get you warmed up first. He sounds a little too comfortable saying those words, and you doubt it's just good acting. Regardless, they seem more than happy to hear about the possibility of getting in bed with you.

"What's everyone talking about?" You slur your words and smile stupidly.

"Don't worry about it, chica," Javi says with a sly look to a man you hope you won't actually have to sleep with.

You swear you see a twinkle of something in Javi's brown eyes as they meet yours.

You realize what that something is when he surprises you by capturing your lips in a searing kiss, daring to slip his tongue in your mouth. His hand sliding downwards says, 'just go with it'. You kiss him back, pulling his hair as he grabs your ass. You know he's putting on a show, but his touch makes you feel something all too real.

You swear you hear a whistle, it's likely directed at the two of you but the hustle and bustle of chatter covers up what the onlookers are saying. Javi hears enough to know that his plan is working.

'Get a room,' they say.

'Do you have a spare?' he asks.

Too drunk for their own good and too horny at the sight in front of them, the leader offers one up.

Your embarrassment is real – you're not hiding a winning smile underneath like Javi is. You're directed to a bedroom, and resisting the urge to scope the room immediately, Javi lays you flat on the bed and climbs on top of you, pinning your arms above your head - and, making you wetter than you'd ever tell him. He's keeping you from pushing him away until the door shuts and he tones things down.

He whispers into your ear when he's sure the man who led you here is far enough away that he can drop the act for a moment, "You're going to do what I say. No questions asked. Are we clear?"

You nod, terrified and knowing he's the only one you can trust in this place. With less shame than one might expect, he shows you what to do, getting you to mimic him. He sucks on his own fingers and you follow blindly, he pulls up the bottom of his shirt and slaps his skin while bouncing on the bed just enough that it creaks, rhythmically, like you're – oh, you understand.

Then, he whispers in your ear, "moan for me," and you do. "Perfect, just like that," he says, and you're no longer praying that you don't get caught by the cartel, but that you don't get caught by Javi. "That's good, keep going," he says, and god, you couldn't stop it if you wanted to.

You've forgotten everything else he's said, so he takes your hand and slides it up your dress, slapping the skin of your thighs and then grabs your hips to bounce them up and down. You whimper at the loss of his touch - all thoughts other than 'Javi' have left your head. He starts searching the room for evidence of anything case-related, and you continue to suck, moan, bounce, slap your skin, pretend to fuck the man in front of you because he wants you to, because he told you to keep going.

You watch Javi's back - as you should. You watch his arms, the way his jeans fit perfectly, the shape of his nose as he turns to his side and you can see his profile, his focused eyes.

You imagine his eyes looking over your body, his nose tickling your skin, those jeans coming off, his arms caging you in while he's on top of you. You hope the bed's not slick with arousal.

Don't touch yourself. But, he's not looking. Maybe you can pass it off as dedication to the cause. Don't. Don't. Don't.

When he finds what he needs, he takes what he can, receipts and encoded notes, and he shoves them down his pants. You watch him readjust. He sees, and gives you a look of 'what?'. He ruffles his hair, unbuttons his top two buttons, making himself look disheveled. Then, he licks thumb and runs in under your eyes, smudging your eyeliner and with the other, your lipstick. As if he's practiced, he wipes the excess red on his lips.

You look stunned, he looks satisfied. Everyone stares when you leave but for all the wrong reasons. They have no idea what went on in that room. Javi has no idea either. It's your own little secret.

When you make it to the safety of Javi’s car, you sigh, relaxing into the passenger seat, and he says, "Thank you. You did really well back there. I could just kiss you right now - for real."

You know what he means. It's another thank you, maybe even I'm proud of you. But he’s still giving you an opportunity. It has to be intentional.

"Then, do it. I dare you."

He could make a joke but he doesn't, he smiles and does as he said. He kisses you, and his lips parting slightly is the offer. When your tongue meets his, he knows, he must know.

"We should celebrate," he says. "Wanna come back to my place?"

You agree, even though you should know by now that going home with Javi is risky business at best.

Javi is enough of a gentleman to offer you a drink before suggesting you move things to the bedroom. All he has is whiskey, and while it's not your favorite, you decide the liquid courage is worth the taste.

"To us," Javi says, raising his glass before tapping it against yours. Sure, you're supposed to look into each other's eyes when you tap your glass against his, but the look you share says something beyond the toast. He might as well have winked at you. The tension is palpable, and you become increasingly aware of Javi's experience in this field - he may hold superiority to you in the DEA due to his extra years working for the agency, but what intimidates you is not that, but his body count, which is surely dozens above yours.

But then again, how much of the sex he has is with prostitutes? Is he even a good fuck? Maybe that's why he pays for sex. No, you've heard rumors being passed around throughout the DEA, and unless Javi pays for reviews too, he's good, great even.

"Are you in there, querida?" His head is cocked to the side in a way that lets you know he's been trying to get your attention for awhile.

"Oh yeah, I was just thinking."

"Anything interesting? I thought I was going to have to shake you."

"No, my mind's just…"

"Elsewhere?"

"Yeah, you could say that."

"Mine too." He places his glass on the table. "You did very well today. Have you ever acted before?"

"No, not really."

"You're a natural, then, because it was pretty convincing."

You think you've gotten away with it until you see the glint in his eye.

"It helps when you're… inspired," you say with a coy grin.

"Inspired? Is that what they're calling it now?"

"I don't wanna say it. It's embarrassing."

"You don't have to, it was pretty obvious how you felt."

It's good that you've had a drink or two because you'd be running out of the room in embarrassment if you hadn't. You're not as practiced as some of the girls he's been with, and it's probably obvious, but you're not a virgin either. You're also not an idiot. This is going in the direction you've always wanted it to - towards his bedroom.

Javi leans in, and whispers into the shell of your ear, "I didn't give you the tour of my apartment, did I?"

His hot breath on your skin sends chills down your spine, but you pretend to be barely-fazed. "Mm-mm, you haven't."

"Do you wanna see my bedroom?"

"Yeah, I'd like that."

He takes your hand and helps you up, and though you’ve felt his hands before, you notice the way one of his can envelop yours. He kisses you, soft and sweet, he kisses you, passionate and feverish, he kisses you with purpose, walking you backwards in the direction of his bedroom. He can tell you're nervous about the possibility of knocking into things so he assures you, "Don't worry. I know my way around. I won't let you get hurt."

"You come here often?"

You get a laugh out of him, light and genuine, but most of all rare. "Not as often as I should."

You find that his grip on you is looser than it was in public. There's nothing to protect you from here. It's just Peña, your colleague. It's just Javi, the man you've seen in the risque dreams you have too frequently to write them off as a misfire in your subconscious.

If someone had asked you with a gun to your head if you thought Javier Peña would be a gentle lover, you'd be dead. And if you are, then you made it to heaven.

He slides your zipper down carefully and lets you slip out of your dress, insisting on abiding by the rule of 'ladies first' when you try to unbutton his shirt. Your fingers shake as you restrain yourself against the urge to rip the fabric, so he replaces your hands with his own. His belt is gone too by the time he sits down on the edge of the bed, hands holding yours while he gazes at you in your bra and panties.

"Do you dress like this under your work clothes every day or was this for your 'costume?'"

"I wanted to do a good job playing my part. I didn't know if I'd need to take off my dress."

"But you were willing to if I'd asked you?"

"You told me to do whatever you said."

"But you could've told me to 'fuck off'. Did you want me to see you like this? Is it possible that you wanted to look pretty for me?"

"You're very good at interrogations, Peña. You would make a good cop."

He keeps his laughter contained, but there's a hint of a smile on his lips when he says, "You're going to call me, 'Javi' when you're in my bed. Are we clear?"

You salute him just to push his buttons, and it works, he pulls you into his lap and holds you there. You love his tight jeans for the way they allow you to feel how hard he is right now.

"So fucking gorgeous," he mutters as his kisses trail down your neck. He undoes your bra with one hand and you brace yourself for impact, dying to feel his mouth on your newly-exposed skin.

You would never have expected his skin to be so soft. His hands are calloused and he has wrinkles between his eyebrows, but his broad shoulders are perfectly smooth. You feel like apologizing preemptively for the marks you might leave.

But Javi flips you onto your back and you see a flash of hunger in his eyes. He's wanted this for a long time too.

"When you were moaning for me earlier, I couldn't stop wondering if that's what you'd sound like if I touched you like this."

'Like this' means one hand slipping into your panties and playing with your clit while the other thumb runs over your nipple. You take a sharp inhale of breath and try not to moan loudly but end up letting out a whimper that must sound awfully pathetic.

"Even prettier," he says, as his voice gets further away and you realize he's getting on his knees.

You must be dead. You must've died at that party because this is too perfect to be true.

He places gentle kisses on the inside of each of your thighs before slipping off your panties.

"Javi." Breathy and urgent, it’s an admission of your arousal.

"Querida?"

Your voice trembles as you tell him the secret you've been keeping. "When I was 'acting', I had to stop myself from saying your name."

"You were such a good girl."

His lips ghost over your clit before he presses a light kiss to your skin. You're so desperate you could cry. You let his name slip out now that you're alone.

"You're still a good girl."

One finger slips inside you like a reward and his tongue circles your clit. You swear he can hear your thoughts - "I'm sorry I pulled a gun on you earlier when you called me that. You make me feel flustered all the time, so much that you piss me off". He groans into your core as if to say, "It's okay. I already knew that".

But then your brain turns to mush and all that's left is, "Javi, Javi, Javi." And his response is to put your legs over his shoulders and slip another finger inside you. He can tell you're struggling against the pleasure, gripping his bedsheets in a desperate attempt to avoid tugging his hair. His unoccupied hand finds one of yours, coaxing you into holding it. The tenderness only heightens the pleasure.

"I know, cariño, just let go for me. I've got you."

The safest you've ever been is with Javi next to you. Safe enough to keep you alive, safe enough for you to cry out his name without fear. You come down from the most intense orgasm of your life, panting with Javi's hands stroking your sides before lifting your legs so he can climb into bed beside you.

Without a thought left in your head, your eager hands reach for the button of his jeans, but he stops you. "Are you sure about this?"

"Of course. I'm in your bed, aren't I?"

"But your legs are shaking, querida. You need a minute to relax."

"I want you."

"I'll still be here in five minutes."

He comes back with water and a condom and you understand why women sleep with him.

He bargains with you - you drink some water and he takes his pants off. He doesn't intend to make a show of it, but you marvel at his body, now fully on display in front of you. The dryness in your mouth reminds you of the cold glass in your hand, which you down, equal parts nervous and aroused at the sight of his cock.

Javi notices the genuine concern in your eyes – surely women have looked at him with the same hesitant desire. In response to the unspoken, he strokes your cheek with a sweetness that makes you blush. "We'll go slow."

He sinks into you slowly, incrementally. His length strokes a particularly sensitive spot inside you that makes your walls tighten around him, and you can feel his hips jerk in response, self-restraint wavering as he holds himself back from fucking you roughly.

Once he bottoms out, he stops and lets you savor the feeling of being full. His lips still red and puffy from their time spent between your thighs, find yours and he kisses you with a fervor that cannot be sustained when you're both breathing so heavily.

"Javi, I need you," you whine.

"You have me."

"I need you to f–" he starts thrusting in and out of you while you speak, forcing you to cut yourself off with a moan.

The way he groans is gorgeous. He sets a steady pace and gets lost in the feeling. The urge to be closer to you takes over and he has you sitting in his lap within seconds. His hands cup your ass and allow him to move you as he pleases.

Your words in his ear are less than coherent when you bury your face in his neck. His teeth graze the skin on your shoulders and in the back of your mind you know you should worry about the marks he might leave, but the desire to be his, to remember that you had something even for a moment overtakes you. So, you throw your head back and give him access to a greater expanse of your skin.

Arousal fills you with a jolt of energy, giving you a boost in stamina, and you leverage yourself on Javi's shoulders and take over the work of sliding his cock between your wet folds, hips erratic and faltering.

You don’t need to tell him how close you are, he can tell. He’s seen you cum before, he’s tasted it.

"Me too," he says. It's more intense than the first one - you keep your eyes open with sheer willpower because you need to know what he looks like when he cums. There's a fair chance you won't see him like this again and you need to keep his beautiful 'o' face in your spank bank.

But what slips from his lips is not a string of curses or a wordless groan, but your name. It sounds even better when you hear it again during round two, and even better when it follows ‘good morning’.

#javier peña #javier peña smut #javier peña x reader #javier peña fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #javier pena smut #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos

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wondeurwall · 7 months

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AUTHOR'S NOTE. based on the poll: nsfw that won by a landslide, as expected AKSNDJSKb!!! i'll post the sfw soon. i'm currently sitting on 9k with this fic & i don't think i'm close to being done yet omg 😵‍💫 not sure how many more previews i'll post of it – i'll play by ear. or, if it's something y'all still would like, then i'll be more than happy to do it, but i think they'll be much shorter going forward!! 💕💕

AND good luck to anyone pulling for zayne's banner & for anyone trying the new oracle of stars event... i want to try pulling for rafayel's, at the very least, since they all look related to the myths 😭 for the lore, I'LL BE BROKE!!!

TAGS/WARNINGS: 🔞 mdni, fem!reader, porn with plot because i said so, cunnilingus

He drops to his knees, keeps his arms slung over your legs, trapping you at the edge of the bed. His face is in front of your pussy, the heat of his breath makes you quiver.

“Eyes on me, pretty girl,” he says.

And, you do exactly that. Rafayel’s gaze has the full moon in there, the light unblinking and brilliant, like a parallel of the sun during the day. It dares you to flinch the longer you look. But, you keep staring, find that it doesn’t hurt and, instead, the light feels familiar.

You hear the waves, tides along the shore and grains of sand being pulled into the water. It happens briefly. Holding your breath, the salt of the sea comes to you like it does in your dreams, a little more vivid each time you fall asleep.

The same images of him fill your vision. Why?

You release the breath, then blink, feeling the heaviness in your chest and the lump in your throat again. It’s a back-and-forth reel of him and Rafayel, different realities converging to a single point in time – and, your lips are trembling. With the heat of Rafayel’s body seeping into you and the recollection of the sea, the moment tastes and sounds like a memory.

No. It’s more than that.

You look at Rafayel, and everything feels less like a dream and more like a memory.

You’re about to call his name, but it’s quickly ripped out of your lips in an airy moan. The flat of his tongue glides up your slit once. Then, he’s doing it again, dipping the tip into your hole and curling between your folds as he moves up to gather your cum. Taking as much as he can, he swallows the taste of you, eyes fluttering closed as he savors it.

It’s the way he does that – makes you believe this isn’t the first time, like he isn’t a stranger to this side of you. So, you’re drifting back into your head (only barely now, because the pleasure is intense, hot and needy) and it’s as if pieces of a puzzle come together in the span of a millisecond and you’re lucid enough to arrive to what seems like an impossible reason: it’s not the first.

You can’t shake off this feeling.

Your pupils dilate, oxygen completely dried from your lungs when you see the pleasure on his face. To you, Rafayel is reliving something he’s missed. Something that’s been denied from him for so, so long and he’s finally grasped onto it, and he looks like he’s found the secret to walking on air.

The ache in your chest is overwhelmed by the ache in your pussy. You whine, the glow in his eyes too dizzying. It does nothing more than guide you closer to hysteria. Your hips jerk forward, begging.

Blood rushes through his cock, straining beneath his pants as a deep rumble comes from within his chest. He’s diving back into your cunt for more before you can catch your breath.

You lie there, unable to close your legs. His arms keep them bent and tucked securely between his biceps and forearms, the strength of him nothing you can even attempt to win against. It comes to you as no surprise – he’s not human after all. Your mouth parts, a light sheen of saliva over your lips. Shallow, quick breaths keep you grounded as you watch through glassy eyes how Rafayel devours your pussy like a starved man.

He pulls back slightly, staring – he hones in on your little bud. You hold your breath when he presses a kiss to your clit, slow and gentle, before he traps it between his lips and sucks, humming as he does.

“Raf – Rafayel,” you gasp, the vibrations coupled with his sucking makes your thighs vibrate, has you seeing tiny white stars. He sucks your clit harder, and your voice gets caught at the edge of your throat.

There’s a pause before you’re moaning like a broken record.

You force your hands to mask your face, rallying enough strength to quiet down because you’re falling, losing yourself so fast, and you have no idea how to wrap your head around the pleasure that’s already building back up.

There’s a disapproving click from the man between your legs.

“Stop,” he says, voice deepening to a near growl. It surprises you – this tone, along with that look in his eyes, half-lidded, clouded with desire, like a predator ready to pounce at its prey – and you feel a greater level of ecstasy being injected into you and it knocks against the sensitive, heavy knot in your stomach.

His demand is never quite like this. It feels… good.

Rafayel loosens the hold on one of your legs to snatch your hands away from your face, “I need to hear you, baby, or I’ll stop.”

Breath bated, you can’t help but stare at him, utterly dazed by the moonlight that hangs over his head just like it does in his eyes.

Lovestruck. Only a second passes before you realize how far you’ve fallen, how desperate you are to see more of this version because there’s no use in denying that you’re among the reasons – if not the reason – he’ll take charge. It’s a stark contrast to the light-hearted and comical side he usually shows. There’s a certain attractiveness to it, the willingness inside of him to take care of you with this authority.

He asks, “Won’t you be a good girl and listen to me?”

God, you’re so wet right now.

You forget how to breathe, feeling like you’ve evolved in a bottomless nothing. His grip on your hands is firm, yet not so much that it shackles you. He’s still gentle. Nodding your head is all you can manage. He finds it cute. Rafayel brushes his mouth over your palm and around your hand to the first knuckle. He smiles.

And, you melt. Of course, you do. Craving to be good for him, to be the good girl like he says you can be – that you are – you clutch onto the bed sheets instead, let your mouth babble this time.

When he’s sure you won’t do it again, he goes back to your clit, giving the attention it deserves as he keeps his eyes on you. He plants a kiss to your throbbing bud again. And again. And then again. It gets stickier there, messy with your cum and arousal and his saliva; stretchy, gooey strings that reconnect his lips to your pussy.

#love and deepspace x reader #rafayel x reader #love and deepspace smut #rafayel smut #love and deepspace #rafayel x you #l&ds smut #lads smut #l&ds x reader #lads x reader #love and deepspace x you #WONDEURWALL ೃ⁀➷ WRITINGS #TY TY TY!!#tysm for all the notes on my other previews!!#i really wasn't expecting much #i appreciate it!! MWAH💋💕

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welcome-tothe-harehotel · 6 months

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A silly old timey HAUNTED HOTEL AU!

!DISCLAIMER!

This is a HORROR AU!

Ghosts, a fictional serial killer character, murder, torture, blood, gore, and other dark/mature themes ahead!

I will be tagging everything appropriately, however if you are sensitive to dark content, this AU might not be the one for you! <:] - I’m pretty good at catching everything, but please go ahead and ask me to tag a certain thing, if it makes you uncomfortable!

My favourite character is Jax, so I’ll most likely draw him the most- but all au characters are askable, unless stated otherwise!! I can only get better and better, at drawing the rest, by doing so! :]

INBOX IS CURRENTLY:

~QNA~

Is shipping characters allowed? - I’m a selfshipper to my core, but 100%Totally! Go for it!

(I personally probably won’t draw much ship requests/content, with some exceptions. It just really doesn’t interest me ^^” but please feel free to draw it yourself!! 💚)

Are ocs and sonas allowed? - YESSSSS yes. If you do any art I would love to see it! and I’m sorry if I can’t reblog it all QvQ but I will drop a like on it/comment- I would be so, so, honoured!!

THIS IS MY FIRST AU ATTEMPT EVER, SO I’M SORRY IF I SORTA SUCK AT MANAGING IT/LORE QUESTIONS! QvQ im gonna try my best and have fun!!

ONE LAST RULE!

I am an adult, 22 to be exact, and some of the content on this blog will include mature themes! Whether that be suggestive, or just really dark and or graphic. So that being said, for my comfort, and internet safety as a whole, across fandoms- l would really appreciate it if you had your age somewhere present in your bio!

If for whatever reason you don't want to display it, then I simply ask that you do not interact with any of my stuff labeled "suggestive" even if it's joke content. This includes liking, reblogging, commenting, etc. :]

I have the right to ask you to add an age, or not interact with select content, if I see you breaking this rule! I DO check blogs!

THANK YOU! 💚

#Before you proceed!!#please read!#introductory post #important!#blog rules #rules #my stuff #meet the cast!#character lineup #hare hotel au #hotel au #horror au #tadc au #tadc #the amazing digital circus

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thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels · 1 month

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Can we call it home, this game of ours? (even if we lose?)

Day 7 of Thank You, Haikyuu - event masterlist here

pairing: kuroo tetsurou x reader (gn) x kozume kenma

length: 9.1k

genre: heist au !! fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: exes to lovers, hinata's kind of the villain, reader is physically intimidated at one point but it's all for show

a/n: done ?? au week done ?? can go outside and see sun now ?? (except I know I know I'm coming back for the day that I skipped <3)

tags: @love-and-lore

Tetsurou, much to your comfort, doesn't seem to have changed much in the three years since you've seen him last. As he stands just outside of the prison gates, leaning against the metal fence, you're struck with the thought that maybe the whole world really did stand still while you were gone - maybe time held itself back for you.

But then you blink, looking past him to his car and the empty passenger seat.

"Where's Kenma?" You ask quietly. Tetsurou just smiles in a rueful sort of way and pulls himself to his full standing height, beginning to walk towards his car.

"Come on," he says over his shoulder. "I'll drop you off wherever you want."

"What - Tetsurou," you call after him, breaking out into a jog to catch up to him as he slides into the driver's seat of his car. You pull open the door on the passenger side, looking at him strangely as he starts the engine and begins to pull out of the prison parking lot without another word.

"Where's Kenma?" You ask again as the two of you drive down the long, winding roads and away from the past three years of your life. In the early morning, the sun begins to shine its first rays onto the dew covering the grass and the hard set to Tetsurou's face.

There's a panicked sort of stuttering in your chest as you realize that things clearly did change, that the world tipped on its axis a little bit more while you were locked away.

"He's gone," Tetsurou says abruptly, a tightness in his voice.

"What does that mean?" You push. One of his hands tightens on the steering wheel while the other finds its way to your thigh, squeezing in what you're sure is supposed to be a comforting way.

"It means it's just the two of us now," he says quietly, staring out ahead. You follow his gaze out the front windshield and onto the endlessly stretching road, the sun wafting heat waves across the asphalt.

"I didn't think he'd take it so badly," you say quietly. Tetsurou sighs.

"You went to jail because of him, baby. How was he supposed to take it?" He points out. You frown, your hand finding his on your thigh so that you can twist your fingers with his.

"It wasn't his fault," you disagree. "We all fucked that job up."

"What, so it's my fault?"

"…Tetsurou," you say, shock flashing through your voice. He sighs and lets his shoulders slump.

"I'm sorry," he says honestly, squeezing your fingers in his. "I've been waiting for you for three years, you know… and the first thing you want to talk about is that."

"What, did you want me to kiss you?"

"A little," he confesses teasingly. You roll your eyes and flick him on the side of the head.

"Idiot," you murmur, but you lean over to press a kiss to his cheek anyway.

"That doesn't count," he shakes his head. "You have to give me a better one when we park."

"Yea, yea, alright," you sigh as if it's a weighty task and relax back into your seat, letting silence overtake the two of you as the sun climbs higher into the sky, sending searing tendrils of heat down towards the two of you.

"Did I really get broken up with three years ago?" You ask sullenly. "And I didn't even know?"

"Trust me," Tetsurou says dryly, "it wasn't better for me just because I did know. He… well, it was bad. I just don't think Kenma could do it without you - without it being the three of us."

"What about you?" You muse. Tetsurou glances at you questioningly. "Can you do it without it being all three of us?"

"Are you asking if I'm breaking up with you?"

"Kind of, yea," you shrug honestly. He presses his lips together for a moment, a guilty sort of look covering his face.

"I sort of think that's already happened, too, baby," he says softly. You blow a rush of air through your lips as you tip your head back against the leather seat.

"Wow," you quip. "Who knew prison could ruin your life so much."

"Kenma and I did," Tetsurou responds, his voice weighed down by the severity of his words. "That's why we couldn't stay together."

"I have a job for us," you say abruptly, seemingly ignoring his comments.

"You're… joking, right," Tetsurou asks slowly. "This is a joke. We're not in the game anymore. We're not."

"We are," you say stubbornly. "Just because I was benched for a few years doesn't mean I'm giving it up. I have a job for us - the perfect job. Come on, baby, the ball's in our court now. We have a chance here for something good."

"We had something good," Tetsurou sighs. "And then we fucked it up and you were arrested."

"I want to rob a casino," you say, disregarding Tetsurou's protests. He snaps his mouth shut at that, staring out ahead of him as he drives and blinks several times as shock, then annoyance, then weariness all pass over his face.

"I'm sorry, I hadn't realized you'd gone insane in there," he says tightly, but you just wave your hand dismissively.

"I've had three years to think about this - three years to plan this and I know how to do it. I know how we can do this," you say firmly. Tetsurou's sigh is heavy as he squints through the oncoming sun. It's lifted into the sky now, arching up over the endless blue and shining down on the two of you, illuminating your faces to each other.

"What's the casino?" He asks finally.

"Hinata Shouyou's," you answer immediately. Tetsurou swerves slightly, causing you to grab the handle on your door as he recovers from his shock.

"How did you know -"

"I didn't," you admit. "It's just that I'd take any chance to beat Hinata at this game - you know that. But now… if Kenma's gone, there's only one person he'll have to run to. I know that as well as you."

"You want to steal Kenma away from Hinata and rob, what, $50 million from him?" Tetsurou's voice, much to your amusement, has climbed in pitch as the shock of your words sets further in.

"No," you say plainly. "Three months from now, Hinata's hosting an event at his casino. On that night, there'll be close to $150 million in that vault. That's when I want to grab it."

"Well…" Tetsurou says slowly, shifting in his seat as he turns your words over and over in his mind. "You better have a good fucking plan."

"I do," you assure immediately. "I always do."

It's three weeks after that when the two of you find yourselves in a hotel suite in Las Vegas, pouring over stolen blueprints of Hinata's casino and his vault. Tetsurou traces a finger across one of the pages, frowning.

"This is Kenma's work, all right. Getting through security systems like this… surveillance was always his part. How are we going to do it without him?" You cross your arms and hum thoughtfully as you stare down at the prints.

"There's always Lev?" You suggest. Tetsurou frowns in concern.

"The kid?"

"Yea, I mean he was basically Kenma's shadow for a while before… well, when we were all still doing this together. He's not… he's not Kenma. No one will ever be that good. But I think he's our next best option." Tetsurou sighs at your words and spins slowly on his heel to walk away from you, slouching onto one of the plush hotel sofas and massaging a hand over the back of his neck.

"This doesn't feel right," he says quietly, and a frown tugs at your lips as you follow after him, sitting down next to him and knocking his hand out of the way with your own so that you can smooth over the tension in his neck.

"I know," you say softly. "But if we do this right, we'll get him back and it'll never have to be this way again." Tetsurou looks at you hard for a moment, like there's something eating at him that he's trying not to let out.

"Are you sure Kenma will want to come back to us?" He asks quietly. You hum thoughtfully.

"Hinata cares about the game, about making sure he always has the best hand. Getting Kenma was just part of that… making Kenma see that will be part of getting him back." Tetsurou frowns, looking thoroughly unconvinced, so you tap his cheek with your finger to grab his attention again before continuing. "When we got into this business, we agreed to play like we had nothing to lose - but then we did lose. And now it's time to get that back."

"If it comes down to it," Tetsurou says slowly, "if it's Kenma or the money, which do you choose?" You look at him like it's obvious, like he should know, by now, which direction your heart has always been pulled in.

"Have any of us really ever been in this for the money?" You ask rhetorically. He hums in agreement, but looks at you pointedly anyway.

"Hinata is," he says flatly. You grin.

"I know… that's what I'm counting on." Tetsurou just rolls his eyes at your assuredness and tips himself forward back up to a stand, making his way back to the table to look at the blueprints again while you sprawl out on the sofa.

"What about the money?" He asks over his shoulder.

"The $150 million? What, you can't think of ways to spend it?" You quip back.

"I meant before that," Tetsurou says easily, and your own lips twitch up a the smile that you can hear in his voice. "A job like this takes some serious financial backing. We'll need someone to fund it."

"It's already done," you say flippantly, and when he turns to stare at you, you grin. "Come on, I haven't been out that long. I know how to set these things up."

"So? How are we doing this?" He asks, crossing his arms thoughtfully as he leans against the table and watches you sit up.

"I called Yaku," you explain. "He chewed me out for a while first - he thinks we're idiots to try to do something like this -"

"Of course," Tetsurou interjects. You shrug in agreement.

"But," you continue, "there's also nothing he'd rather do than beat Hinata at his own game. He's on his way - his flight lands in the morning."

"So… it's settled then," Tetsurou says slowly. You nod.

"As long as we get Lev," you point out. He just waves his hand dismissively.

"He'll bite. What about Yamamoto?"

"I figure you can grab him," you say. Tetsurou nods and looks out past you through the tall windows and onto the endless flashing lights and neon signs of Las Vegas, the sun setting low in the sky and bathing it all in an endless soft pink.

"Are we really doing this?" He asks quietly. You follow his gaze out towards the endless horizon, to the light that leads you further beyond what you've ever done before.

"I guess we are," you respond, your voice low. "Looks like I need to take a trip to New York."

What Lev is really doing in New York, you figure, is both none of your business and beyond your sense of wonder. As he gets off of a subway train, though, he pats his pocket rather gleefully and expects to feel the outline of the wallet he's just pinched from some unsuspecting businessman.

Instead of the smooth, worn leather, though, he pulls out a note - a little card that says nice pull! and has the location for a diner nearby scrawled onto it. Lev isn't stupid - he knows your writing when he sees it, knows a job when one comes walking up to him. He tells himself that he's going to say no, that he's only going to meet you to see what you're up to and then he'll leave… because he knows now. He knows better than to get involved with the three of you.

But then he's sitting across from you and you've got those hungry, burning eyes and that wicked, sharp smile and he can feel himself being pulled further, further, too far in.

"You can't rob a casino," he says bluntly, but you just smile in that wicked way of yours.

"It's Hinata's," you point out. Lev stares at you.

"You can't… go up against Hinata," he says haltingly. You cock your head to the side and pout in mock sympathy.

"What, you afraid of losing to him?"

"I won't lose against Hinata Shouyou," Lev snaps, and you smile like a wolf that's just caught its prey.

"Do you want to come prove it, then?" You push, but Lev just sighs and looks at you wearily.

"The last time I got involved in a job with the three of you, I watched you get hauled off to prison and Kenma disappeared," he says quietly. You grow sombre at his words, reaching forward to flick him on the forehead where his eyebrows are pulled together in a comforting sort of way.

"I know, Lev," you say quietly. "But it's not going to happen twice. We're going to beat him this time." Lev groans a bit and runs a hand through his hair and you know that you've got him, leaning back in your chair as you wait for him to cave.

But then he pulls out the plane tickets that he'd snatched from your pocket earlier to look at them and you arch a brow.

"That's your best lift yet," you say honestly. He smiles a bit, a sly sort of thing, before sliding one of the tickets into his coat pocket.

"What can I say," he shrugs. "I'd love to get to play a match against Hinata."

By the time you and Lev are back in Las Vegas, the rest of them are already there in your hotel suite, lounging on sofas or sitting at the large table. Yamamoto, when you swing the door open, claps you on the back in greeting.

"It's good to have you back," he says it easily, but there's a softness in his eyes that makes you smile.

"It's good to have you back," you quip kindly. Yamamoto grins at the comment.

"Of course," he says easily. "It'll be nice working with proper villains again."

"Alright then," Tetsurou claps his hands together, gathering everyone's attention as you and Lev move further into the suite and he finds an armchair to settle into while you pull yourself up to sit on top of the table. "Let's get to work."

"We need to get this part right," you say clearly. "We need to know what we're heading into. There are enough traps and catches and twists with this to get us all locked up if we fuck this up… but if we get it right, it's $150 million split five ways."

"And Kenma," Lev chimes in.

"And Kenma," Tetsurou nods. A heaviness sets over the room, a weight born of the severity of your tangled, shared future as the sun begins to set outside, the purple glow of the horizon blending into the neon billboards of the city outside and flashing streams of colours over your faces.

"The first thing we need to take care of is reconnaissance," you explain. "Cash cart paths, dealer rotations, everything. Casinos are built to keep people in - know the quick routes out. Yaku and Yamamoto, spend some time losing some money there - watch, learn, remember."

"Yaku," Tetsurou goes on to explain, pulling a briefcase up onto the table and tapping the lid, "is taking a vacation to Vegas. He's going to spend some time staying at Hinata's hotel and he's going to hand this briefcase over to security - something about it being full of valuables."

"Being the excellent host that Hinata is," you say dryly," he'll offer to have the briefcase stowed in the casino's vault for safekeeping."

"That'll be me, right?" Yamamoto chimes in. "Yaku'll need a security detail to deliver the case for him."

"Exactly," Tetsurou confirms. "Hope you brought some costume changes." You laugh at the quip, mostly because you know Yamamoto does have a suitcase full of everything he could possibly need for things like this, before you continue.

"The second task is power. The night of the heist, we're going to darken the city - shut off power everywhere on the main grid. Tetsurou will take care of that."

"And" Tetsurou adds, "Lev will, of course, be taking care of surveillance. Whatever you need, we'll set it up here in the suite."

"It shouldn't be too hard," Lev shrugs, his sharp eyes flitting around your faces. "If I can get into their security system, I can watch all the feeds from here and pull you out if things start to go wrong."

"Don't get scared, though, alright?" You warn. "No pulling people out unless there's no other option." Lev fixes you with a hard look at your words, a sternness in his face and voice that isn't often heard from him.

"I'm not letting anyone get caught doing this. Not this time." The room, at that, gets quiet as the sun dips lower, darkness beginning to roll over the hotel suite. Tetsurou flicks on the light switch on the wall and the artificial, yellow glow illuminates Lev's hard gaze and the way you press your lips together.

"We're not going to get caught," you say firmly.

"And I'll make sure of it," is Lev's answer.

The night does, naturally, grow a bit sombre after that, the plans poured over a bit more meticulously as everyone turns over, in their heads, the unspoken truth. If this job goes wrong, if someone ends up in jail… it'll be the last one. Game over. There are no do-overs left here for any of you.

It's late in the evening when Kenma sits in one of the many, many restaurants in his partner's casino, checking his watch yet again. He can't really find it in himself to be surprised - Hinata's always late, always caught up on running the business and winning the game.

Kenma wonders, in a depressed, sullen sort of way and certainly not for the first time, if he just traded one shitty hand for another, never really getting out of this endless match. He knows, as he stares at the date on his phone, that you're free these days, that you're out of prison and on parole. It's much to his own bitter disappointment that he's counted down the days since your release - he didn't want to, really, but he just couldn't seem to help it.

He's swirling the water in his glass, watching the condensation trickle down the sides and onto the expensive tablecloth and wondering why you haven't reached out, when you slide into the seat across from him - the seat meant for Hinata.

"Hey, Kenma," you say kindly, and it's like the world begins to cave in around him. Three years have gone by without him seeing you or Tetsurou and he could almost convince himself that he'd forgotten about you, that you were some figment of his past that time had crumbled away.

But here you are, sitting in front of him and looking at him like you remember how to love.

"You shouldn't be here," he says haltingly. "Hinata will be here soon."

"Will he?" You point out. "I'm not sure you're the type of person who ever deserves to be kept waiting."

"You kept me waiting for three years," Kenma snaps, and you purse your lips.

"You didn't wait, though, did you?" You say gently, your words making Kenma's heart stutter in his chest as he scowls and looks away. "I'm sorry, baby," you add, and Kenma looks at you like he's trying to forget how to love you.

"You shouldn't be here," he says haltingly, and you sigh slowly.

"Hinata's no good for you. You know that, right?"

"Hinata's… safe. He's reliable and consistent and he'll be here any minute," Kenma responds, his voice wavering. You fix him with a disbelieving look.

"How reliable is a man who's never even on time for a date?" Kenma opens his mouth to retort, but then snaps it shut when he realizes he has no defence. You just sigh again in a long-suffering sort of way and stand, taking his hand in yours to press one gentle kiss to his knuckles before bidding him farewell.

"Wait!" Kenma stands in a rush as you turn to leave. "What are you planning?"

"What do you mean?" You ask innocently. He rolls his eyes at the act.

"You don't give up… not like this. Tell me what you're going to do."

"I don't know who you think I am, baby," you say honestly. "I won't pretend that I don't want you back - but I don't take… not like this." With that, you turn to leave again, but your name passing through Kenma's lips has you pausing once more.

"How's… how's Tetsurou?" He asks quietly.

"He misses you," is your simple response before you walk away, missing the way that Hinata shows up next to Kenma, a caring hand on his lover's waist as he scowls at your retreating figure.

"Uh, hey…" Lev says slowly, worry making his voice tight. "I think we have a problem."

"What's wrong?" Tetsurou says from his spot on one of the hotel suite sofas, the rest of you lounging around.

"Aw, I've been caught," you say easily from where you're looking over Lev's shoulder at one of computer monitors.

"Yea," Lev says heavily. "You've been flagged by the casino as an ex-con." Yaku snorts.

"Hinata's flagged you as Kenma's ex. This is just to make it official," he quips from where he's sitting with his legs thrown over the arm of one of the sofas.

"Either way," Lev points out, "the minute you step foot into that casino, you'll be trailed and monitored by security the entire time"

"Good," you say, patting Lev on the back as he frowns. "That's all we were waiting for… Now it's time to really get to work."

"Ok, now remember - Yaku's only got 30 minutes of breathing room in that thing, so we have to be quick about this," Lev says quietly from his place in the hotel suite, his eyes trained on the various screens around him that are showing security feeds from around the casino. Yamamoto doesn't answer, although Lev knows he's heard the comment from the glance he sends to the nearest security camera as he wheels a cash cart through the casino.

Lev does sort of wonder, for a minute, how Yamamoto managed to get his hands on one of the casino staff uniforms, but then you walk in through the front doors and he's distracted. Fortunately, the casino security is also momentarily distracted enough to glance past Yamamoto wheeling the cart through to the staff area and down towards the vault below.

"Are we sure this is a good idea?" Lev asks nervously as he watches security approach you on the cameras, two men grabbing you and hauling you off the casino floor and away from the guest area. "They're heading to the cameras' blind spot."

"Trust me," Tetsurou says comfortingly, clapping a hand on Lev's back. "Our guy's already in there."

"Your guy?"

"He's an old friend. We'll just owe him a favour after this," Tetsurou says easily before checking his watch. "Alright, I'm out of here… take care of us, Lev." Lev opens his mouth to respond, to promise, to plead, to beg for nothing bad to happen, but Tetsurou's already gone and he's alone, watching the game of it all through the safety of his computer screens.

As you get escorted by security into a back room, you note that it looks a bit like an interrogation room and that, funnily enough, there are no cameras to be seen. A bruiser comes in after you, someone big and intimidating as he locks the door behind him and rounds on you, cracking his knuckles.

"Hey, Bo," you say easily, grinning as you sit on the cool, metal table. "How's Akaashi?" Bokuto's smile matches yours as he pulls you into a crushing hug.

"Didn't you get his letters?" He asks as you part. "You owe us a visit now that you're out."

"I did get them - every one," you say as you stand up on the table, reaching towards the ceiling. "And after this - fuck, I'll owe you two a vacation for helping us out." Bokuto reaches up to help you pop out the panel of the ceiling vent so that you can begin to haul yourself up and into the dark, endless tunnel. He lets you prop a foot up on his shoulder, hoisting you up and into the vent before lifting the grate to pop it back in place.

Before he hands it to you, though he stops, frowning with his brows furrowed as he says your name slowly.

"Make sure you get all the way to the finish line this time," he says quietly. "I don't want to see my friend hauled off in handcuffs again."

"I promise," you say easily, fixing him with a genuine smile. "This time… this time, we've got it."

"Alright, time to cause a scene," Lev says into his mic, knowing Yamamoto's heard him when he grins a bit wickedly. He's stowed the cash cart successfully in the vault and is making his way back out onto the casino floor in regular, civilian clothes when Lev gives the heads up.

Fortunately, there's no one who can cause a commotion like Yamamoto, and he's yelling and swearing up enough of a storm that security gets involved, escorting him out of the casino and drawing enough attention that Lev can successfully put the elevator camera feeds on a loop, giving Tetsurou the perfect opportunity to slip in and pop the vent panel out.

You're there, of course, holding out a hand to haul him up and out of the elevator and then pop the grate back into place successfully - and Lev lets out a sigh of relief when it all goes down so smoothly in the time that it takes for security to kick Yamamoto out of the casino and get themselves back on track.

"How's Bokuto?" Tetsurou asks in the quiet darkness of the elevator shaft.

"Oh, he's great," you say easily. "Hey, why didn't you send me letters when I was in prison?" Tetsurou shoots you a bemused sort of look as the two of you begin to set up cords to belay down the elevator shaft towards the vault.

"Is that really what you want to talk about right now?" He asks distractedly.

"Yes," you answer immediately, tugging on your cord to test it. "I didn't hear from you for three years."

"Because…" Tetsurou falters, staring down at the endless darkness of the elevator shaft, at the pitch black that wraps around the two of you, at the three years of his life with you that just… slipped away. "Because I love you," he says simply.

"What, you loved me enough to leave me?" You say, not bothering to hide the sharp pain in your voice.

"I loved you enough for it to make me act like an idiot," he says back honestly, his voice catching. "I still do. Otherwise, I wouldn't be hanging from the top of an elevator shaft with you."

"Hm, I suppose," you say, unconvinced. Tetsurou throws you a long-suffering look, but you can't see it through the darkness. Lev's voice crackles through your earpieces and disrupts whatever it is that you've started with your question.

"Uh, guys…" he says hesitantly. "Not to interrupt, but we're good to cut the power here." Tetsurou makes an embarrassed sort of noise through the darkness and you laugh.

"Do it," you command, and Lev announces it through everyone's earpieces before power throughout the entire casino cuts out.

"You've got fifteen seconds before the generators kick in and the motion sensors are back online, you've gotta go now," Lev says. You and Tetsurou take the command, belaying down the elevator shaft, through the endless darkness until you hit bottom.

Lev watches, on the cameras, as the casino's sent into complete disarray during the blackout and uses the moment to set all of the vault security cameras onto a looped feed while you and Tetsurou give him the heads up that you've reached the bottom of the elevator shaft.

As you pry open the doors and climb out into the hallway leading to the vault, Yaku climbs out of the cash cart that Yamamoto has stowed in there, pulling himself up onto the counter in the middle of the space. He rolls his neck, his muscles tense from having squeezed into the cart, as he spots the briefcase that had been stowed earlier that week.

Clicking open the briefcase carefully, he takes the explosive charges out slowly so that he can stick them to the vault door one by one, knocking on the metal as he places them.

Just outside of the vault, you and Tetsurou stand and stare at the large, looming, metal door.

"There's a 5'4, 140lbs man with $150 million on the other side of this door," you say as you place your hand on the cool metal.

"Yea," Tetsurou says easily. "…Let's get him out. Now." He opens the duffle bag that he's brought with him, pulling out matching explosive charges and listening for Yaku's knocking so that he can line up where he's placing them.

"Count us down, Lev," you say quietly and Lev switches over to the vault security cameras, watching as Yaku bends himself to climb back into the cash cart, trusting the altered metal exterior to protect him from the blast.

"Counting down now," Lev begins. "10, 9…"

"This is it, you know," you say to Tetsurou as the two of you stand in the vault's hallway, backing up further and further toward the elevator door and listening to Lev count down to one. "There's no going back after this." Tetsurou grabs your arm gently, pulling you against him and tangling a hand into your hair as he kisses you firmly. You make a small noise of shock as he does, but your hands find his chest to smooth up his shirt and you let him kiss you - you realize, your head a bit fuzzy, that you'll always let him do what he wants.

"No one I'd rather do it with than you," he says quietly when you part.

"Except for Kenma," you point out, a smile tugging at your lips. He laughs just as Lev's countdown hits one.

"Except for Kenma." With that, the vault door blows and you watch Yaku climb back out of the cash cart amidst the smoke, remarkably unscathed.

"Alright," you say briskly, stepping into the vault and reaching for Tetsurou's duffle bag, pulling endless empty bags out of it. "Now for the real trick."

Kenma sits at one of the many bars in his partner's casino, swirling his drink endlessly around and around and around in his glass while he waits for Hinata to return to him and he wonders, sort of dully, when his life became this cycle.

But he supposes that he can't really blame Hinata - not this time when then the power's just been cut and he's scrambling to regain control of his establishment. But it's not like this is the first time he's been left waiting, Kenma thinks dryly, and he doubts it will be the last.

Hinata is just finally walking up to him, a tense, focused look on his face, when Kenma's phone begins to ring. He answers it as Hinata slides onto the bar stool next to him and he whips his head around to stare at his partner as the voice on the phone asks Kenma to pass the phone to him.

"What's wrong?" Hinata frowns as Kenma holds the phone out to him, a shocked look on his face.

"It's for you," is all he says, and Hinata's frown deepens as he takes the phone and holds it to his ear.

"Who is this?" Hinata's voice is clipped, rushed and business-like.

"This is the man who's robbing you," the unknown voice responds, making him freeze. He stands abruptly, making his way out of the bar and towards his security area, Kenma hot on his heels.

"Show me the vault," he snaps at the employee who's monitoring the camera feeds and, once the man's scrambled to show Hinata, he'd faced with images of… nothing. It's just his vault, entirely intact and full. Bringing the cell phone back up to his ear, he huffs.

"What game are you playing," he snaps. "There's nothing going on in my vault."

"You're watching? Good," Lev responds just before he switches the security feeds, now showing video of three people, masked and in all black and hauling duffle bags of cash out of his vault.

Kenma falters at the sight, taking a step back and away from his partner. It's out of shock, Hinata assumes as he stares at the camera feeds of millions of dollars being taken from him.

"What you're seeing right now," Lev continues over the phone. "Is only half of your current holdings. As I'm sure you already know, you currently have just over $150 million in your vault tonight - we've taken just $75 million."

Hinata takes a step back, his heart hammering in his chest and his head spinning as the voice continues speaking in his ear. Perhaps, if he'd been paying more attention, he would've noticed Kenma slipping away, out of the security room and back out towards the casino floor.

"The other $75 million," Lev continues to explain, "is currently sitting in your vault with explosives rigged. You, Hinata Shouyou, will have your staff take the duffle bags out to the black van that's sitting outside your front doors. If you try anything… if you do anything… we'll blow the money left behind in the vault and the money in the duffle bags."

"Call the police," Hinata whispers, bringing the phone away from his mouth for a moment and watching as one of his employees picks up the landline, dialling 911.

"So, Hinata," Lev continues on the phone. "You can choose to lose $75 million privately or $150 million publicly. The choice is yours."

Lev, from where he's sitting in the hotel suite, spins in his chair a bit before intercepting the landline call to the police.

"Alright, get to it Lev, stop playing with him so much." Lev hears your words through his earpiece, but he can also hear your following laughter and the grin in your voice. He listens to Hinata agree to his terms and then cuts the call without another word as he watches, through the security camera, as the duffle bags are taken by the casino employees and hauled out to the unmarked van parked just outside.

On a separate monitor, he watches Kenma slip upstairs to the casino's hotel, going into his suite quietly. Kenma exhales deeply once he enters, eyeing the bed that he and Hinata have slept in, the mugs from their matching morning coffee sitting on the counter in the kitchen, the lives that the two of them have been intertwining together.

He paces and runs a hand through his hair and wonders, sort of desperately, who he wants to win this game and whose side he's on. He's no idiot - he knows Lev's voice when he hears it and he knows your plans when they begin to unfold. He recognizes the game that's being laid out in front of him…and he's trying to decide how to move his piece on the board.

As he looks out the tall windows towards the city beyond, the endless horizon and the open, deepening sky of the evening stretching on overhead, he feels a sort of spark igniting within him. It's an itch, a hunger that he hasn't felt in almost three years. It's the need to engage in this back and forth, to set up the trap and watch it all fall apart.

As Kenma stares out towards the endless sky, he thinks that maybe it's finally time to play the game again - he thinks that it's finally time to come home.

Hinata watches, on the security monitors, as the SWAT team that he's had his employee call for enters his vault, masked and armed and marching in - all three of them. But as they step over the threshold, the cameras cut out and an explosion is heard over the audio from the feeds, mayhem commencing in the vault. True to what the voice on the phone had said, the $75 million in the vault has been blown… completely destroyed.

Hinata inhales deeply, bracing his hands on the table in front of him and staring at the feeds as they come back online, showing the destroyed vault.

"What about the van?" He asks quietly, his voice burning as he speaks.

"We have a team monitoring it, sir," one of his employees pipes up. "But… the explosives were also set to go off there… I'm - I'm sorry, sir, but the money's gone."

But Hinata's already leaving, sweeping out of the room and stomping down to his destroyed vault. He blinks a bit as he approaches the blown-off, metal door, spinning on his heel a few times as he realizes, for the first time that evening, that Kenma's nowhere to be found. He swears under his breath as he approaches the SWAT team, deciding that his partner's disappearance is a problem to be dealt with later.

"Get out," he snaps as he enters the ruined vault. One of the SWAT team members turns to him, face hidden by their mask.

"We really should -"

"I said get out," Hinata all but shouts, and the person speaking takes a step back.

"It's your vault," they shrug before hauling their equipment bags onto their shoulders, gesturing for their team to do the same until the entire SWAT team is packed up and heading out, making their way up and out of the casino.

Hinata stands, vision blurred and blood thundering through his ears as his breath catches. This careful game that he's been playing, one foot in front of another for years, he's finally lost, and he staggers with the weight of it all.

He stands there for some time, clenching his fists and feeling his knees tremble before he calms and clears his head enough to really look around. It's then, finally, that he looks to his feet and catches a glimpse of the burnt, destroyed money.

But… he blinks. He rubs his eyes and looks again. It must be - no, it can't be. Hinata bends and picks up the charred money and looks around at all of the bills scattered throughout the vault and realizes that… there's no money here at all. They're just… flyers. Paper ads.

Hinata reaches into his pocket, fumbling for his cell phone and dialling up to his security room.

"Someone check the money in the van - now," he orders, waiting as he hears his employees scrambling to find someone who can run outside and check.

"Sir, it's - you won't believe this, but… there's no money here. It's just - the duffle bags were just full of flyers." Hinata lowers the phone from his ear slowly, tossing it onto the floor of the vault before sliding down to a crouch and burying his head in his hands.

"Sir?" His employee's voice sounds from the phone where it lays on the marble floor next to him. "What is - what does this mean?"

"It means," says Hinata, so quietly that he knows he can't be heard over the phone, "that I've been set up… it means I've lost the game." The golden detailing of the floor shines up into his face and the weight of loss sinks into him as he stares at the destroyed remnants of his vault door.

The SWAT van, as it pulls out and away from the casino, is largely ignored by Hinata and his security. But the driver takes his mask off and it's Tetsurou, grinning and laughing. Yaku and Yamamoto take their masks off, as well, and the three of them stare down at the big, black bags of money sitting at their feet, completely unnoticed by anyone as they walked right out of the front doors with them.

"Psst, Bokuto," You whisper as you shimmy through the vent and Bokuto perks up at the noise, climbing up onto the table to remove the grate and help you down from the vent before carefully putting everything back into place.

"Everything's going well?" He asks, his voice a bit tight with worry. You flash him a solid smile.

"Everything's going perfectly," you say easily. He sighs and lets his shoulders drop as you sit up on the table. "Ok," you say, tapping your cheek expectantly. "Land a few solid ones… make it believable."

"I…" Bokuto starts quietly. "I don't want to hit you."

"You gotta, Bo," you say breezily. "Come on, I'll give you a few million for it."

Hinata sweeps out through the blown doorway, nearly running to reach the elevator and leave the vault area. The night that you'd come to see Kenma keeps replaying over and over in his mind and he's certain - he's certain that this was you.

But when he finds himself outside of the interrogation room, he can hear the noises of the bruiser that he'd hired roughing you up. When he swings the door open, Bokuto has you by the collar of your shirt and a bruise is blooming over your cheek.

"Put them down and go wait outside." Hinata's voice is sharp and icy and Bokuto drops you, leaving the room swiftly without looking back at all. You groan a bit and sit up on the table, eyeing Hinata.

"Was this you?" He asks, his voice wavering with barely levelled rage.

"Was what me?" You say tiredly, feigning innocence. He steps closer, his eyes flitting over you as if he'll find some sort of secret hidden on you somewhere.

"Did you do this?" He asks firmly. You shrug.

"I haven't done anything tonight… yet," your joking quip has Hinata scowling, but he steps aside and gestures to the door.

"Get out of here, then," he says shortly, and you rise to a stand slowly, ambling your way out and into the hallway.

In his hotel suite, Kenma's still pacing and chewing his nails nervously, the golden glow of the setting sun shimmering over his yellowed hair as the phone rings. It's the hotel suite phone, he realizes abruptly, and he stares at it for a moment before picking it up and bringing it to his ear.

"Turn the TV on to channel 3," the voice on the other line says.

"Lev -"

"You're not supposed to know it's me. Just… turn the TV on." The call drops after that and Kenma stares at the phone in his hand for a moment before he turns on the television, flipping to channel 3 with dread coiling in the pit of his stomach.

It's… the casino's security footage on the screen, one of the endless, winding hallways of the staff area showing as you walk down it, nursing a split lip and a bruised cheek.

"Hey, just one question, Hinata," Kenma watches you ask - he watches as his partner tips his head back and sighs and stares at you with burning, hungry eyes. "If you could choose… if you could either get your money back or keep Kenma… what would it be?" Kenma feels his breath catch in his lungs at the way Hinata scowls at you.

"The money," he says immediately. "I want to win my money… I'm not here to win people." Kenma actually steps back at that, stumbles and sits on the plush, golden-hued sofa of the hotel suite. He watches as you press your lips together at Hinata's words and shake your head.

"That's a shame," he listens to you say, "because I don't have your money. Looks like we both lost tonight." Kenma switches off the TV at that, nausea rolling through his stomach as Hinata's words ring through him again and again and again.

The last light of the day's sun dips below the horizon and the city begins to come alive, teaming with the neon lights of the casinos and the billboards and the games and Kenma… well, Kenma's never felt quite so far from home. He's never felt, so acutely, like he's somewhere where he doesn't belong, and he feels a desperation tearing at him.

He thinks of your face on the TV, tired and worn and missing him and he stumbles to a stand, nearly tearing his hair out with the way he runs his fingers through it anxiously as he thinks of you and Tetsurou and you and Tetsurou and you.

He rips out of the hotel suite, slamming the door behind him as he tears through the hallways and down toward the main floor, nearly slamming into Hinata when he catches up to him. Hinata shoots his hands out to steady Kenma, his brows furrowing in concern, but Kenma's looking past him, his eyes trained on your retreating figure disappearing through the casino doors.

"Kenma, what -" Hinata begins, but Kenma's sharp, hurt gaze falling onto him makes him clamp his mouth shut.

"You, of all people, Hinata," Kenma begins, his voice hard and firm, "should know when you've lost the game." That's all it takes for Hinata's grip on his arms to loosen enough for Kenma to shake him off, all but running out towards the front doors of the casino and after you.

"Wait!" Kenma's voice catches as he breaks out into a run just outside of the casino doors, watching two police officers cuff you beside their car. "Wait! That's my - that's my partner, just wait." You stumble for a moment at his voice before whipping your head around to stare at him as you're led to the back of the cop car, the door slamming closed behind you.

Kenma stands, breathless and desperate on the sidewalk, as he watches the lights of the police car disappear into traffic. There's a panicked stuttering in his heart as he considers that this is the second time this has happened - this is the second time that he's watched his home disappear in front of his eyes, leaving him alone and reeling and with nothing other than the endless sky to guide him.

"It's just for violating parol," Tetsurou's voice has Kenma spinning around and he sees the man standing, leaning against a fence with his hands shoved into the pockets of his suit.

"Tetsurou?" Kenma says weakly. Tetsurou just smiles in that comforting, sturdy way of his and stands fully so that he can walk to his partner. Kenma, in turn, walks to him as if he can't help it, as if he's being tugged by some invisible red thread that bonds the three of you together.

"It's just for violating parol," Tetsurou says again, smoothing a comforting hand over the back of Kenma's head, taming the hair that's begun to tangle from him nervously running his hands through it. "They'll be out in… three months, probably."

"I'll wait," Kenma says quickly, staring down the endless, sprawling road that the police car had disappeared down. "I'll wait for them this time." Tetsurou hums with a comforting sort of understanding and wraps an arm around Kenma's shoulders.

"I know you will," he says softly, and Kenma looks up at him with teary, pained eyes.

"It'll be different this time, won't it?" He asks quietly, his voice wavering. Tetsurou looks out towards the vast city and the endless road and huffs out a breath.

"I guess this is all how it started, isn't it?" He muses. "What, with them disappearing and the two of us having to try to pick up the pieces? "

"Tetsurou," Kenam says earnestly, and Tetsurou stoops down to press a gentle kiss to the crown of his head.

"It'll be different this time," he assures. "It'll be different."

You hope, sort of desperately, that it really is different this time when you're released once again, three months from that night. Sure enough, it's Kenma who's leaning against the prison gates when you walk out, his hands stuffed in his pockets and his hair pulled back.

You cock your head to the side as you walk up to him, angling your gaze around him to spot Tetsurou asleep in the backseat of the car.

"Just checking," you say as you shrug, turning to face Kenma again. He snorts, rolling his eyes and tugging you by your collar to pull you in enough that he can press a hard kiss to your lips. You make a small, startled sort of noise, but reach to tangle your hands in his hair, nonetheless, as he palms at you and presses you against the prison fence.

A car honking abruptly pulls the two of you away from each other and you look out toward the parking lot to see Tetsurou awake, leaning over into the front seat to lay on the horn as he scowls at you. You laugh, a loud and honest thing and tangle Kenma's fingers with your own as you pull him to the car.

"Come on," you say easily as he grumbles under his breath, a blush spreading up his cheeks as the two of you slide into the car, him taking the passenger seat while you sprawl out in the back, Tetsurou having climbed over the center console to take the driver's seat.

"So," he asks, starting the engine and looking at you through the rearview mirror. "Where to?"

"Well," you drawl, sitting up and leaning forward between the two front seats to press matching kisses to their cheeks. "We can go anywhere we want these days."

Tetsurou laughs and pulls out of the parking lot, travelling down endless, winding roads as the sun shines overhead, bathing the three of you in a vast, golden glow.

"You know what I've been thinking," you snap your fingers, causing Kenma to raise a brow suspiciously as he glances back toward you. "We've gotta get Lev in on more jobs… he wasn't bad out there, I think he's got real potential." Tetsurou blows a large breath out and laughs, rolling his eyes fondly.

"Do you think maybe we could make it fully off of prison property before you start planning the next job?" He quips long sufferingly, grinning while he speaks in a way that gives him away.

"What?" You say defensively, your own smile giving away your happiness. "I'm free, I'm headed home, and I'm with you two. Can't I dream a little?"

"You don't have a home," Tetsurou points out good-naturedly. "You lost that when you went to prison for three years."

"I think," you begin, only half-jokingly now, "that home is right here with you two… right?" The two of them soften at that and Kenma leans back to press a kiss sweetly to your lips - something that you lean forward for until Tetsurou puts a hand on your head and lovingly shoves you back into the backseat. "If you don't put your seatbelt on, we might never find out how true that is, okay?" He says patiently, and you laugh at his concern but settle in and buckle your seatbelt anyway. The three of you sit in silence for a moment, letting the road disappear underneath the car and stretch on ahead of you and behind you as you feel, for the first time in so, so long, like you're moving forward in this life that you three share.

"You're quiet," you say finally, nudging Kenma with your hand. He looks out the window pointedly.

"We're all quiet," he says distantly.

"Hm, no," you go on. "You're different quiet."

"What's up?" Tetsurou joins in, tapping Kenma gently on the thigh as he sighs and shifts in his seat.

"I just think," he begins slowly, "that we shouldn't… give Lev more credit than he's due."

"What do you mean?" You ask, frowning slightly.

"Just that…" Kenma trails off, chewing his lip in contemplation for a moment before he continues. "It's just that… there may have been some times when he got a little… stuck. And maybe, perhaps, there was someone… helping him out a little. Just, you know, nudging him in the right direction… smoothing out some problems for him."

Silence blankets the three of you for some time after that, Tetsurou staring out toward the winding road as you, in turn, stare at Kenma, both of you wearing matching looks of shock with your mouths hanging open.

"Oh my god," you say eventually, tipping your head back to laugh as you lean back across the backseat. "Oh my god, we - you were helping us the whole time?"

"Well," Kenma says slowly, "not the whole time, but… I mean, for some of it… I guess. Just a little."

"Holy shit," Tetsurou says in a dumbfounded sort of way, still staring out towards the endless strip of asphalt. "Kenma, you… Baby, you won the game. You beat all of us."

"No!" Kenma says abruptly. "I didn't beat you - I was on your side!"

"Yea," you laugh, "but you still played us. You beat everyone." Kenma just blushes, grumbling about how it's really not a big deal and this is what he gets for helping people out as he crosses his arms and slides lower into his seat.

"Still," Tetsurou says as you giggle, "you're right - we should bring Lev in on more… the other two, too."

"Speaking of…" you say, clapping Kenma on the shoulder comfortingly. "$150 million split six ways instead of five is still pretty fucking good. Besides… there's always the next job."

"Is this really what home is to us now?" Kenma asks quietly, but there's a brightness in his eyes, a glow hazing the air around him as the sun streams into the car, golden and bright and warm.

"I think it always has been, right?" You respond softly. "It just… takes us a long time to find our way home sometimes."

"Yea," Kenma sighs, looking to Tetsurou and then to you. "I guess it does."

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starcocaine · 6 months

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Who the fuck is this? Seriously, ever since I discovered this monstrosity, I've been feeling disgusted. My friend informed me about this design, and despite it not being 100% official, the damage is still done.

I know many people acknowledged Norman as someone black. And I've agreed most of the time even though in my au I never actually made him black, lol. But I agree on this one. He should be black. Literally, the whole fandom agrees on this one. Yet hear me out- I am not mad since his VA wasn't black at all, color really doesn't matter to me. But what bothers me so much is that he's simply hideous, ALL OF THEM.

They are so many talented artists that you have no idea just how many they are. They had options, many more. Just now, I saw the most jaw-dropping, beautiful- breathtaking fanarts of these same characters. I wish I could tag them all.

I just don't know what to say anymore. I've been such a huge fan of batim since 2017. I was a weird kid since I never stopped talking about it. And I don't mean this as a flex, I'm trying to say that batim has truly been my most precious thing ever. I can't explain how much I loved this back at the time, I still do.

It's been a while since I started to lose my way in the whole lore. Ever since batdr dropped, I haven't been able to catch up. And I must say, ever since they said that a movie, graphic novel and many other books would drop. I just knew I couldn't have high expectations on something like this.

And Jesus christ. I guess we were all right about this one. I really hope they do better, I really do. All I know is that I fear for Thomas Connor, Sammy Lawrence, and Wally Franks. They are absolutely my favorite characters, and even though I have my own impression and headcanons about them, I just pray to the Lord for them not to be THAT bad.

I only had to say this, lol. I needed to vent, whatever happens, I guess there's not much I can do anyway.

P.S. I made this drawing. This is my design of Thomas Connor, lol. Fun fact is that Thomas and Norman are my favorite characters.

I ship those two, btw... Norman x Thomas sounds fun.

What do you think about this in general?

#bendy and the ink machine #bendy and the dark revival #batim #batim fanart #batim fandom #thomas connor #norman polk #sammy lawrence #wally franks #batdr #batds #dreams come to life #bendy books #batim dctl

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gasolinerainbowpuddles · 1 year

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Pedro memes pt 4

previously, on "Puddles has a problem": ✨part 1✨ ✨part 2✨ ✨part 3✨

I'm not sure what happened, but this one is Javi heavy lol

I present to you the ✨Javi-tachi collection✨

@tightjeansjavi hahahaha

idk why I have so many medieval themed memes. that one's gonna be for my therapist to dissect hahahaa

there's lore for this one. suffer as I have suffered.

*~yOuR tOnE sEeMs ReAlLy PoInTeD rIgHt NoW~*

EDIT: I FEEL LIKE SUCH AN ASS I FORGOT TO FUCKING TAG @pedropascalito FOR CREDIT OF WHERE I GOT THE STILLS FOR THIS I'M SORRY :( PLZ DON'T HATE MEEEEEE ILY

hahaha I'm sorry Pedro I'm rly rly sorry

RIP to a real one

stop playin w me, im fuckin unstable lmao

Miller Bros together, for the fic writers puttin in the work lately on this duo (@thetriumphantpanda , @strang3lov3 , & @pascalsbby)

here's a bonus that I encourage y'all to recklessly drop into people's inboxes! gift somebody w a visit from the Pedro fairy and spread good vibes :) and tag me if you want so I can see how far our little Pedro fairy travels!

hello, new followers.

I do post memes (now), but I mostly post fic stuff. If that interests you at all, you can check out my masterlist.

catch ya later, ♥Puddles♥

tagging at random bc Tumblr is a piece of shit, but it's mostly the fic writers who write such amazing shit that got me making these memes in the first place bc my brain HAD TO DO SOMETHING WITH THE FEELINGS after reading their work: @toxicanonymity @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @toomanystoriessolittletime @talaok @atticrissfinch @chloeangelic @cavillscurls @joelscruff @tieronecrush @worhols @northernbluess @netherfeildren @gracieispunk @darkroastjoel @jksprincess10 @jrrmint @walkintotheriveranddisappear @wannab-urs @frannyzooey @ezrasbirdie @fuckyeahdindjarin @psychedelic-ink @atinylittlepain @swiftispunk @the-ginger-hedge-witch @bageldaddy

ty all for the wonderful stories you share w us! and for inspiring some of us to write our own shit :)

#a word from puddles #memes n tingz #pedro pascal memes #im back on my bullshit

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hollybell51 · 2 years

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ok i know you said requests are backlogged but i also read your sam winchester fic (oh my god???? so good!!!!!) and i noticed that you put dean on your tag list form and i am literally in love with him so if you get time could you do like a hurt/confort fic for him where the reader gets like seriously injured and tells him she loves him because she thinks she's dying and doesn't wanna die without saying it?

Anon you are in luck, the supernatural brainrot is still going strong. Also if you wanna be tagged in stuff make sure you submit responses to that form otherwise I don't know what usernames to put xx

The other thing

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Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Supernatural (2005)

Word count: 5.8K

Summary: hunting a ghost that only seems to attack young women, you volunteer yourself as bait. The plan doesn't exactly go to plan, leading to some confessions being made.

Content: ANGST. Angst, besties. Hurt/comfort, mainly hurt but there is some comfort there, whump (sorta), mostly Dean's perspective but still second person narrative voice (loml), probably bad characterisation but I think it's passable???? Sam is like the no. 1 Dean/you shipper, A+ wingman. Badly written emotional vulnerability but I tried I promise. Kissing, first kisses, "I love you"s, bit of blood but not too explicit, hospitals, etc. etc. Dean is a warning on his own but yknow what I love him. I may have missed some stuff so please don't hesitate to catch me on it!

Notes: ft. my freaking awful titles lmaoooo. This isn't really set during any actual episode, but I'm sorta working off only having watched the first two seasons so just assume it takes place somewhere around then. Also the more I watch this the more I just wanna grab him and put him in my pocket or something, it's so bizarre. He's so pretty. I love his cockiness, I love the little eyebrow thing he does, I love the little jaw thing he does. Sorry if I messed up any lore or anything, writing this was a fever dream but tbh I had fun, it's nice to just sorta write you know? Thanks for the suggestion Anon

“Guys, can you hurry up?”

Dean glanced over his shoulder, frantically sprinkling fuel over the exposed corpse below. He couldn’t see all that much in the darkness, but it didn’t exactly look like you had the upper hand. None of them had realised how big the ghost was until now, and with the machete it was currently slashing at you…

“Almost there!” Sam shouted, striking a match and casting it into the grave. The remains went up with a “whoomp!”, the ghost howled and stumbled back. It was difficult to really know what happened in those few moments as the light from the burning remains glinted off the metal of the machete and the ghost shimmered and began to disappear, but what was clear was that something had happened to you.

“Fuck,” you groaned, dropping your own weapon with a dull thud. You staggered, catching yourself on a headstone before your knees gave out and you sank to the ground. You were hunched over awkwardly, your shoulders heaving, hands clutched tight to your stomach.

“(Y/N)?” Dean asked, frowning. Were you hurt? Just out of breath?

“I’m alright,” you called. “Just… give me a second.”

“Shit,” Sam muttered, dropping the salt and packet of matches and running towards you. “Dean!” he yelled as he knelt down, stripping off his jacket and balling it up, pressing it to your stomach.

No, Dean thought. No, no, no, no. He was frozen, the can of fuel dangling limply from his fingers. He’d known using you as bait for a psychotic ghost murderer was a bad idea, even when you’d insisted that you’d be fine. It wasn't that he didn’t think you could handle it – he’d seen you in action enough times to know you were a force to be reckoned with – but he’d had a horrible feeling something was going to go wrong from the moment you’d laid out your plan.

“He goes after girls, right?” You’d had an uncomfortable light in your eyes, all steely determination that Dean simultaneously loved and hated. Loved because, well, it was so you and it meant you were getting shit done, hated because more often than not you were putting yourself in danger. And yes, he was aware of the hypocrisy.

He’d tried to talk you out of it, Sam had too. But once your mind was set – and set it was – no amount of convincing on anyone’s part could do anything about it. The second the idea had begun to form in your brain, the path was laid and there was no point trying to change that.

“You better get over here man, quick!” Sam’s voice dropped, but wasn’t quiet enough that Dean couldn’t hear his next words, addressed to you. “Just hold on, Dean’s coming. Keep breathing, ok?”

Fuck, that didn’t sound good. Dean’s limbs jerked back to life. He didn’t waste another second, sprinting the few metres through the forest of tombstones to where his brother was bent over you.

“Don’t just stand there!” Sam yelled, one hand pressing his jacket to your stomach. “Help me!”

It was like his body was moving on autopilot, kneeling beside you and taking over from Sam without any input from Dean himself. Dully, he noticed that there was already a warm, damp patch on the jacket, as well as a dark spot glistening darkly over your side. Shit.

“I’ll be fine,” you’d insisted when he'd raised his doubts. “I’ve got you guys. You just burn the bones fast, I reckon I can hold him off for a few minutes.” Then you’d shrugged, grinning. “And if it all goes to hell, I know you’ve got my back.”

Yeah, fat lot of help they’d been.

“What happened?” he asked.

“He got me on his way out,” you laughed bitterly. “Can you believe that? Halfway gone and he just–” You broke off, making a vague slashing gesture with your free hand. “God, I’m an idiot.”

“No, no you did fine. We shoulda been quicker.” Dean assured you, pressing harder. “Sorry,” he muttered as you let out a pained whimper.

“‘Salright,” you grimaced. “My fault. Dean, I gotta–”

“Shh, no, it’s fine. It’s ok, you’ll be ok.”

You shook your head, tears mixing with the sweat on your face. He watched one trace a path through the dirt caked on your skin. “It’s important, please.”

He shook his head. “The only thing that’s important right now is keeping your eyes open, yeah? Just… just do that.”

“I’m calling 911,” Sam said. “Just stay there, don’t move.”

“I’m not planning on taking off, don’t worry.” You smiled tightly, then your face twisted in what Dean thought was fear, panic even. It was like a punch to his stomach, he hadn’t seen you look that scared since… Well, ever. Your hand fumbled over his, trying to find something to grab.

“It’s alright,” he told you, pressing on the jacked one-handed as the fingers of the other one twined with your own. “It’s alright, (Y/N).”

“No, no Dean, you have to burn me. Make sure you salt me, uh… Sage, use sage too.”

He felt the blood drain from his face, cold rushing through him. “What?”

“Please,” you begged, your voice breaking. “I don’t wanna hurt anyone. You have to get rid of me, ok?”

Oh God. Oh God. Dean looked up, searching frantically for Sam. He was watching you while he talked to the emergency operator, his fist pressed against his mouth and his hand shaking where he held the phone. He met Dean’s eyes, shaking his head.

“You’re not gonna hurt anyone because you’re not going anywhere.” Dean’s voice was blessedly steady, despite the uncomfortable lump in his throat.

“Promise me,” you whispered, then shouted when he didn’t respond. “Promise me, Dean!”

He gripped your hand tighter, your own fingers digging harshly into his flesh. “I promise you will be ok,” he said.

You sobbed, your body heaving under the rapidly dampening jacket. That was way too much blood for Dean’s liking, and judging by the increasing urgency of Sam’s quiet conversation on the phone, he felt the same.

Your panicked gaze locked on Dean’s face, tears coursing down your cheeks. “I don’t wanna go,” you choked. “I didn’t tell you. I can’t go.”

Didn’t tell him what? It didn’t matter. He squeezed your hand in what he hoped was a more reassuring than painful way. “It’s ok, you’re not going anywhere, alright? You’re staying right here, I’ve got you.”

“You’ve gotta listen to me, Dean–”

“No, tell me later. Just hold on, save your energy.”

“Dean–”

“(Y/N) hold on!”

“Dean!”

“Dean, listen to her.” Sam had finished on the phone, the screen shining eerily on his face. At Dean’s raised eyebrow he gave a tiny nod. Yeah, there was an ambulance on the way.

“Sam, she is not gonna die.” He shook his head, turning back to you. “We’ve got all the time in the world, ok sweetheart?” He searched frantically for something to say, anything to keep your attention. He was no doctor, but he knew it would be bad if you passed out. Very bad.

“Uh… fuck.” He broke off, floundering. What would keep you awake? What could he possibly say after you’d just made him promise to get rid of your spirit once you were dead, which was not going to happen.

“It’s actually not a bad night,” he started, already kicking himself mentally. “Bit of a breeze. I guess it’s sheltered down there, you’ve got a nice, uh, headstone blocking it. Ground’s not too bad either, not too hard. Glad it’s not gravel, my knees’re killing me.”

A watery laugh clawed its way from you before another sob wracked your body. “Dean, I gotta tell you…”

“Can you see the stars from down there?” he asked, cutting you off. “I bet they’re bright out here. No light pollution.” He grabbed your hand as your fingers loosened their grip, dread settling like a stone in his stomach.

Your eyes wandered away from his face, sweeping over the space behind him. You nodded, but the haziness that had slid over your face didn’t do anything to help Dean’s panic, especially now that you weren’t holding his hand nearly as tightly as you had been.

“Wait,” he said, squeezing your fingers. “Just focus on me, keep looking at me.”

Your eyes swung back to his. “Please,” you whispered. “Please Dean, listen to me”

Sam’s hand settled on his shoulder, large and heavy. He nodded to your face when Dean glanced at him, and to his horror he realised there were specks of blood on your lips.

He swallowed hard. He hadn’t realised, but this was probably one of the worst moments of his life. He’d entirely ignored even the possibility of you being injured, let alone dying – just thinking the word felt wrong – since you’d joined him and Sam, doggedly refusing to acknowledge the near physical ache the idea of your absence caused. Now it was happening, right in front of him. Heat prickled behind his eyes.

He took a deep breath, steadying his voice. “Yeah, alright sweetheart. You tell me, I’m listening.”

Relief washed over your face. “I wanted to say it,” you whispered, “before. I didn’t want it like this.”

“It’s ok. Sh, it’s ok.”

Your body convulsed under his hand with another sob, more blood leaking from the corners of your mouth. “I love you,” you choked. “I love you so much. I don’t wanna get stuck because I never told you.”

Oh. Oh. Dean’s mind went blank, then crashed right back into his skull. It was like swinging on a swing, at the peak of the arc where you floated a little before you started going down again. Yeah, that was his brain in that moment. Of course you’d have the guts to say it when he didn’t, even if it was out of fear of becoming an angry ghost. He cursed the universe and its cruel sense of humour. He faced horrors beyond most people’s imaginations almost every day, but still couldn’t say three simple words when he wanted to more than anything, and now you’d taken the first step for him and it was because you thought you were about to die. Someone up there must have hated his guts.

“I know,” he said finally, nodding. “I know you do. Hold on, ok? There’s an ambulance, it’s gonna get here any minute” It wasn’t what he wanted to tell you, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t make his mouth cooperate.

You smiled, your grip on his hand all but nonexistent now. Your breathing was getting shallower by the second, your eyes unfocussed and no longer trained on his face. It was like now that you’d said your piece, you weren’t even trying to stay awake. He didn’t like to be too dramatic, but he was almost convinced that he was the one who’d been stabbed, not you.

“No,” he whispered. “No, (Y/N), not you. Please, not you.”

A wailing siren sounded in the distance, blue and red lights flashing rapidly brighter as the ambulance drew closer.

“Just a few more minutes,” Sam said, pacing. His eyes never left your face. “Come on, (Y/N), any second now.”

You were perfectly still, too still. Dean leant over, careful to keep applying pressure to your stomach as he listened for breath. The faintest hint of it brushed his cheek, not enough. He blinked hard, holding you against his chest, his face pressed into your hair. It still smelled like the cheap shampoo from the most recent motel, mixed with blood and dirt and sweat. It should have been disgusting, but to Dean it smelled so right. He wondered what that said about his lifestyle choices.

“Please,” he whispered, his voice choked. “(Y/N)...”

Your hand slipped from his, and it was like a damn breaking. He felt his shoulders jerk, something between a sob and a grunt torn from him.

“I love you too,” he whispered, clinging so tightly to you he was half scared he was going to hurt you. “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, (Y/N), I love you.”

The siren was deafening as the ambulance skidded to a stop, Sam waving frantically to the paramedics swarming the graveyard. Someone pulled Dean back despite his protests. Cold stung his cheeks, the breeze from earlier having turned into a wind. It vaguely occurred to him that the reason it was so cold on his face was because he was crying.

Everything was a blur as you were engulfed by uniformed paramedics, your limp form lifted onto a stretcher and born away into the vehicle. Someone tried to talk to him before Sam, uncannily put together and coherent, spoke to them and explained. There was a lot of nodding and “thankyou”s, then Dean was being loaded into the Impala like a little kid and Sam was driving like you were in the back seat instead of in the ambulance.

All he was aware of at the hospital was Sam’s hand gripping his arm, muttering that he needed to pull it together “for her, man.” The harsh, clinical lights and the rush that everyone seemed to be in wasn’t helping Dean’s panic, every prone body he glimpsed taking on your face until he blinked and it was a complete stranger. What if the unthinkable really happened? What if you died, and he hadn’t been able to save you, keep you safe like you’d been so sure he would? What if you really did linger as a tormented spirit, what if he and Sam had to hunt you, get rid of you like you’d said? He didn’t know if he’d be able to do that.

Finally, a serious looking man with a clipboard and a badge approached them. “Are you with the young woman–” he glanced at the clipboard, “(Y/N), who just came in?”

“Yes,” Sam said quickly. “Yeah, how is she? Is she alright?”

“She’s damn lucky someone put as much pressure as they did on that cut,” he sighed. “She’s lost a lot of blood, but she’s stable.”

Dean let out a breath he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding, shoving his hands into his pockets to hide their shaking.

“Thankyou,” Sam smiled. “Thank you, doctor. When can we see her?”

He frowned at the clipboard again, tapping his fingers on the plastic. “Well she’s unconscious, I daresay she will be for a while yet.”

“Please,” Dean interrupted. “I– we just need to see her.”

The doctor raised an eyebrow. “You boys family?”

“Brothers,” Sam lied at the same time as Dean said “husband.”

“I’m her husband,” he went on, ignoring the little flip his stomach did. Somehow, the familiar lie felt different now that he’d told you how he felt, even if you hadn’t heard. “He’s my brother in law.”

“Ok,” he shrugged, “but she won’t… Well, she was stabbed. There’s a lot of tubes, bandages, and she’s out cold. It might be…” He stopped, sighing. “Some people find it confronting, seeing their loved ones like this.”

Dean felt Sam glance at him, but he ignored it. “Trust me,” he said with a tight smile, “I’ve seen worse.”

He had not, as it turned out, seen worse. You were completely still apart from the gentle rise and fall of your chest, a thin cotton blanket pulled up and tucked in with clinical precision around your ribs. You had a little cut on your forehead that Dean hadn’t noticed at the graveyard. A drip trailed from the back of your hand to a cluster of bags suspended above you, a thin plastic tube wrapped around your head just under your nose. Oxygen, he assumed. If he ignored all that, you could have been sleeping.

Sam pushed the door open softly, as if he was afraid he’d wake you up. Dean hesitated a moment, then followed him inside. Up close, he could see the light sheen of sweat on your forehead, the darkness under your eyes, the pallor of your lips and cheeks. He reached out to touch you, maybe lay his hand on your forehead or smooth your hair away from your face, but drew his hand back at the last moment. He didn’t want to somehow unbalance you from whatever tightrope you were walking right now, even though he knew that was illogical. Still, even breathing the same air felt somehow dangerous for you.

“Did she tell you?” he asked Sam eventually.

“That she loves you?” He didn’t give Dean a chance to explain that he hadn’t meant that, that he’d been talking about your fear of not-quite-death. “She never said it outright, but I sort of worked it out, y’know? You guys weren’t really that subtle.”

Dean frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just…” He shrugged, gesturing vaguely between your prone form and Dean. “You’re always looking at her, when you think she can’t see you. She does the same. Always just sorta… doing little things for each other. And you’re always touching her, I don’t know if you realised.”

“Huh. I didn’t.” It was true, although it didn’t really surprise him. He liked the little smile you gave him whenever he picked something up from a store for you – a favourite candy, something you’d mentioned you felt like – and he’d just assumed when you did similar things for him it was because you were, well, you. But now that he thought about it, he couldn’t name half as many times when you’d taken the same care and effort for Sam. Not that you’d neglected his brother, it was just… slightly less personal, less specially catered. He felt a surge of warmth for you, then a pang as his eyes landed again on your too-pale face.

As for touching you, well, he wanted to. All the time. He wanted to put his hand on your shoulder, wrap his arms around your waist, hold you close and feel your heartbeat against his. Every brief half-hug or brush of your skin against his was something precious to him, so of course he’d want more. His mind flashed back to the tightness of your hand in his at the graveyard, the warm slick of your blood as you’d clung to him. Even that had been almost euphoric, past the raw terror and sickening dread. He was going to hold you like that again – under better circumstances – if it killed him.

“Yeah,” Sam went on. “She’s the same, actually.” He laughed, shaking his head. “I remember this one time, Illinois, I think. We got a motel room with the longest couch you've ever seen. You sat down in the corner, and she comes and sits right next to you! When she’s got, like, another two metres of space to choose from.”

Dean did remember that, actually. He remembered the rush he’d gotten as you’d squished up against his side, complaining that you were cold even though your skin had been warm to the touch. He still thought about it, sometimes. “Huh,” he said again.

“Yeah.” It was silent apart from the beeping of your monitor and the normal hospital sounds outside the room, then Sam turned and faced him. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Dean shook his head. “It wasn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have let her put herself out there like that in the first place.”

“No, I was supposed to have her back. I shouldn’t have taken so long with the salt.”

He wasn’t wrong, Dean knew that, but it had been him who’d agreed to your plan. You’d put your faith in him just as much as you had in Sam, and he’d let you down. He hadn’t liked the whole thing from the start, but still he’d gone ahead with it. And now here you were, lying unconscious in a hospital bed, and Sam was beating himself up about it. It was all so wrong, and Dean could have stopped it so easily. But as he looked at you, he swore he could hear you snorting derisively at him, crossing your arms with a firm “bullshit!”

“It’s my choice,” you’d say. “You’re really gonna try to steal my credit?”

“She’d call bullshit on you, you know,” he said.

His brother shrugged, nodding. “Yeah, you too probably. She’d poke you, right here.” He reached around and stuck his finger firmly in the middle of Dean’s chest, right where you’d done countless times.

Despite himself, Dean smiled. Then your drip beeped and he was jerked painfully back to the present, and the problem at hand.

“Did you know she was so scared?” he asked. “Of, y’know…” Dying. Haunting someone. Getting stuck here, not being able to move on.

Sam didn’t answer for a moment, then he sighed, still looking at you. “She mentioned it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Why didn’t she tell me?

“She didn’t want me to. She thought you’d think… I don’t know, that she wouldn’t be able to do the job. She really didn’t want you to know she was scared, she was so worried about what you thought of her. She said you were…” He swallowed, cleared his throat, continued. “She said you were never scared, and she didn’t want you to think she was. Even when I told her we were all terrified.”

“Damn right,” Dean muttered. You’d done a great job at putting on such a brave front, he’d sometimes wondered if there was actually something wrong with you. Or maybe not wrong, but different. He’d never known anyone who could handle the things they did so well, not even his dad. It was something of a relief to know that there was more to it.

“She was convinced she’d be the type of person to get stuck,” he continued. “Kept saying she wouldn’t be able to move on, that she had too much that she was holding onto and she didn’t know how to let go.” He finally raised his head, looking at Dean with what he thought was pity. Any other time, that would have annoyed him.

“That’s why she said it,” he muttered, the uncomfortable lump back in his throat. When you woke up, he was going to give you a serious talk about timing.

Sam nodded.

“And she didn’t–” His voice broke, and he turned away. He wanted to punch something, put his fist through the wall or slam his hand down on the table, but he was too scared it would somehow disturb you. “I didn’t say it back.”

“Woah, hey.” Sam’s hand was firm on his shoulder, steadying him. “You did, man. You did.”

“I was too late! She was out!”

“Yeah, and you can tell her again when she wakes up.”

“What if–”

“No.” Sam shook his head firmly, fingers digging into Dean’s shoulder, anchoring him to the spot. “She’s waking up, and when she does you’re gonna ask her out on a proper date, she’s gonna say yes, and you’re gonna sort yourselves out like adults. Ok?”

Dean looked away. The prospect of asking you out suddenly felt enormous. Of course he’d taken girls on dates before, he knew what he was doing, but that had been more along the lines of “I think you’re cute and you’re clearly into me, let’s get dinner and then we can hook up.” He’d never faced “I’ve been pining over you for months and I was too scared to do anything about it but you almost died and told me you loved me – love, not like – and I have no idea where this is gonna go but Sam’s right and asking you out is probably the best next step even if it’s absolutely terrifying”. He was a total mess, and he knew it.

“Ok?” Sam asked again, insistent.

“Ok,” he agreed. “Ok.”

“Good.”

You didn’t wake up until a day later. Well, that was according to the time and date displayed on the clock opposite your bed. Dean didn’t really have any recollection of time actually passing.

He was slumped in the chair beside your bed, your hand held gently in his own as he dozed. He hadn’t let himself fully sleep since you’d been brought in, too afraid that something would happen while he was out, despite all Sam’s urging. Eventually he’d just sent his brother back to the motel, assuring him that he’d be fine on his own and that he wanted to be there for you when you came around.

He jerked out of his half-nap when your fingers twitched, cursing when his pain stabbed through his neck. Snoozing in hospital chairs was never a good idea.

“Fuck,” you groaned, frowning at the ceiling.

Dean cleared his throat, his mouth suddenly dry. “(Y/N)?”

You turned, your face clearing when you saw him. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t make his heart skip a beat. “Dean,” you whispered. “What’re you doing here?”

He shrugged, making to withdraw his hand, but your grip tightened. “I’m the ‘welcome back’ committee.”

“Oh.” You nodded, smiling softly. You ran your free hand over the bandage circling your waist, studying the IV embedded in your skin. “We got him, didn’t we?” you asked.

Right, the ghost. “Uh, yeah, he’s gone. Your plan worked,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

“It was a pretty good plan,” you grinned.

He shook his head. “It almost got you killed.”

“But it worked,” you insisted, your eyes shining. “He’s gone, Dean. Who knows how many people we saved?”

“And what about you, huh?”

You shrugged. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

He took a deep breath, bending his head so you wouldn’t see the moisture he was sure he could feel gathering in his eyes. How were you so casual about it? It had been your life on the line, you who’d gotten stabbed, who’d been bleeding out, terrified of not dying properly and becoming a ghost yourself.

“Hey,” you said gently, your hand slipping from his, sliding up over his arm to rest hesitantly on his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“You almost died, (Y/N). Sam told me, what you said about getting stuck, being unable to move on.”

You were silent for a moment, then you sighed. “Well it’s just awkward now that I’m still here.”

Despite himself, Dean laughed. He raised his head, placing his hand over yours, rubbing his thumb in a circle over it. Your skin was warm as ever, dry to the touch. It was such a contrast from the graveyard, one he was glad of. You smiled, some of the colour already returning to your face.

“I’ve always got your back,” he said, “no matter what. Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I wanted to, I really wanted to. But I just… I don’t know, I just couldn’t. Every time I tried it was like this brick wall went up in my brain.” You shrugged, drawing your hand back as you shifted to sit more upright. Dean missed its warmth instantly. “You’re always so… unfazed, you know? It felt kinda stupid.”

He snorted. Sure, Sam had already told him what you’d said, but it was different coming from you.

You folded your arms, as if you’d just won an argument. “See?”

“Shit, (Y/N),” he said, shaking his head. “I’m not – what’d you say? – unfazed. This shit gets to me too, I just…” He thought, unsure how to phrase it. “I didn’t wanna scare you,” he finally settled for. “Didn’t want you to worry.”

“Oh.” You picked at a loose thread in the blanket, biting your lip. “And the other thing?”

“Yeah, the other thing.” He’d known this was coming, he’d tried to find the words as he’d sat beside you, waiting for you to wake up. He’d almost had it, he told himself. How hard could it be, after all?

“I didn’t wanna die with, like, unfinished business. That’s the main reason people stick around. It felt like if I didn’t get it out there, I wouldn’t ever be able to… keep going. Move on.” You swallowed, not meeting his eyes. “It’s ok,” you went on, “if you don’t, y’know, feel the same. I’d understand.”

So you hadn’t heard him. Dean wasn’t surprised, but some part of him had been clinging to the hope that somehow his words had gotten through to you even as you were bundled into the back of the ambulance.

He shook his head. “I just wish you’d said something before.”

You looked up, hope chasing confusion across your face. “What?”

“I wish you’d said something before,” he repeated. “It would’ve saved us both a lotta trouble.”

“I don’t…” You frowned. “What’re you…?”

He shrugged, his heart beating a million mph. “I love you too,” he said simply.

You blinked, opening your mouth to say something, closing it again. Slowly, a smile crept across your features. “Alright,” you grinned, way too smug for Dean’s liking. “Alright then.”

“Don’t push it,” he warned, but the threat was empty and you both knew it.

You shifted again, leaning towards him. “Come here,” you said softly.

He stood, ignoring the ache in his back from the bloody uncomfortable chair.

Impatiently, you beckoned him closer.

He raised an eyebrow, brushing a stray piece of hair from your face. “Do I get to kiss you?”

“That’s the goal, yeah.” You rolled your eyes, tilting your face against his hand. Dean wasn’t fond of the whole “butterflies in your stomach” thing, but he had no idea how else to describe the feeling that tiny gesture conjured. It really was like someone had released a swarm of the things inside him, and he wasn’t sure if he liked it or not.

You were watching him expectantly, almost like you were challenging him. “Go on,” your eyes seemed to be saying, “try it.”

He did. Your lips were softer than he’d expected, and just as warm as your hands. You made a sound somewhere in the realm of a sigh as his hand slid down to rest on your shoulder, pushing gently towards him, your own fingers running over his jaw to brush along the back of his neck. He couldn’t believe he’d waited this long to kiss you, and now that he’d finally taken the plunge, he never wanted to stop.

But he had to breathe, unfortunately, and so did you.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” you whispered. You were still close enough that he could feel the words against his skin.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he replied.

You laughed, a soft, breathy sound, and closed the tiny gap once more. “I love you,” you murmured between kisses, “and I’m sorry it took me almost dying to say it.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that too.”

The door handle clicked, the hinges squealing. “Ok, so I ran into the doctor on the way in— woah.”

Dean stood up so fast he almost overbalanced.

Sam was standing in the doorway with a disposable coffee cup in each hand, his mouth hanging open as he stared from you to Dean and back again.

You cleared your throat. “Hi, Sam.”

He shut his mouth, shoving the cups into Dean’s hands as he crossed the room and bent to hug you with a muttered “thank God.”

“Watch it,” you warned, “I’m injured.” But your arms snaked around his back anyway, your voice muffled as you pressed your face into his neck.

“You’re never allowed to scare us like that again,” Sam said firmly.

Your eyes found Dean’s over Sam’s shoulder, and you smiled. “I’m not really planning on it, don’t worry.”

Sam just laughed. “How’re you feeling?” he asked when he finally let you go.

“Ok,” you nodded, then frowned. “Hungry.”

Sam glanced at Dean, who shrugged. He’d gotten bored some time in the morning, and the packet of pudding that had been left on your bedside table along with a bottle of water had been practically begging to be tasted. He’d wondered if you’d wake up before they brought a replacement, he’d even felt a little bad eating your food, but he was hungry, dammit, and when Sam had left he’d said he would come back “later” which meant “tonight”. And that was too long for Dean to wait. He also didn’t have any money on him, and wouldn’t have left your side for the cafeteria when the pudding was right there.

“What?” you asked.

“He ate the pudding they left you,” Sam said. Dean never should have mentioned it, but he’d been desperate to get Sam to bring him something and it had felt convincing over the phone.

Dean glared at his brother and the coffees – which were very noticeably not the fast food he’d had in mind. “You try living in that chair for a day, see how long you can go without.” Then he turned to you. “You didn’t miss much, don’t worry.”

“Well, I’m hungry!” you protested, crossing your arms and looking for all the world like a petulant toddler.

Sam’s words about asking you out echoed in his mind.

“I’ll buy you dinner,” he said. “At an actual restaurant, not a fast food place. As soon as they let you outta here, alright? In the meantime…” He reached for the bottle of water, handing it to you with an apologetic shrug. It was better than nothing.

You wrinkled your nose at him. “This is a pretty shit first date.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” he said. Then, on second thoughts, “It’s not a first date, Sam’s here.”

“Geez,” Sam muttered, “sorry. And after I got you a coffee too.”

“Did you get me one?” you asked hopefully.

“No,” he said slowly. “But you can have mine if you want?”

You sighed. “I don’t like it how you do. But thanks,” you added with a smile.

“Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting you to be awake.”

“Have a little faith, Sam.”

He smiled, glancing between you and Dean.

“You owe me a coffee, and you owe me a dinner,” you continued before he could say anything. Dean thanked you silently. He didn’t really want a shovel talk from his own brother right now, which he could see Sam was just dying to dish out. He wondered if you’d be getting one. Probably, but he had no doubts that it would be less “shovel” more “talk”.

“Soon as you’re fixed up,” he said. “I promise.”

“And it’ll be a date?”

“Sweetheart, it’ll be the best first date you’ve ever been on. Trust me.”

You just grinned, ignoring Sam’s fake-disgusted sigh. “Ok.”

240 notes · View notes

braving-the-storm · 3 months

Text

Lore drop

Tw: death

"Finley, take a breathe. Calm down." Her dad tried to soothe her.

Finley was freaking out, and she didn't know why. Just something about to today made her feel off.

"Finley, please." He begged. "Please."

"I'm trying!" She was shaking and felt sick to her stomach.

She whimpered in pain. "What's happening to me..."

"It's just a cold, sweetheart. You'll be okay. Just take some deep breaths." He assured.

She tried to take a breath, but it made everything worse. This wasn't a cold. It couldn't be.

"This isn't a cold, Dad..."

"Okay, okay, just, stay calm, I'll get your mum..." He stood up.

Finley screamed in pain. There was a flash of white light, and the pain was gone.

"Dad, it's gone-" She gasped, seeing her dad on the ground.

Her mum rushed in. "What's going on- Oh my god! Daniel! Daniel! Come on, wake up!" She went over to him.

Finley started sobbing. Her father was gone, just like that. And she was pretty sure she killed him.

"What happened, Finley?" Her mother managed to choke out. "Please, dear, what happened?"

"I don't-" Her brother opened the door.

"Mack, do not come in here!"

"Why not- Holy shit!" Mack gripped the doorhandle for support upon seeing the scene.

"Finley, what happened?" Her mother pressed.

"Mum, I don't know."

Mack butted in. "What do you mean you don't know? You were alone with dad and now he's dead, you physcopath!"

"Mackenzie!" Her mother hissed.

"She killed him!"

"We don't know that-"

"We don't need her to confess! She's not giving an explanation! It's clear as day mum!"

"Mack, I don't this is hard but you need to calm-"

"No!" Mack yelled. "I won't do any of those calming techniques or whatever Jennifer craps on about each week! Finley just killed my father and you can't see that!"

"Stop it stop it stop it!" Finley cried. "I didn't kill him!"

"Oh sure. You were just alone with him for an suspicious amount of time and now hes dead. Must be a conquidence!"

Finley started crying hard, just saying 'I didn't kill him' over and over again.

"Mack, you need to go for a walk." Her mother said calmly.

"No! She needs to get out our house!"

"Mackenzie!"

"Im not staying in the same house as that monster. Either she's out or I am."

"She's 10-" her mother was cut off by Finley bolting out the front door.

"Finley!" Her mother tried to chase after her but there was no catching up.

Finley just ran. She knew she was no longer welcome in that house.

Why would she? Like her brother said, she was a monster.

"Finley! Finley!"

Her head whipped around. "Cooper?-" Cooper. Her one and only friend at school. Just the person she need to see.

She saw heaps of smoke coming from where he came from. "Holy moly, that's a lot of smoke!"

"Yeah, that's kinda my house..." Cooper rubbed the back of his neck.

"Your house? Are you okay? Is your mum okay?"

"Yeah, she's the one that told me to run."

"She what?" Finley gasped. "Why did your mother tell you to run from a burning building?"

"Uh-that's a long story that I'm going to sum at with the police probably want me." He explained.

"Did you burn your house down?"

"Finley, you're running correct?"

"I mean, you could say that-"

"Great." He grabbed her hand and they started running.

"Where are we going?" Finley asked.

"Anywhere but here." He sighed. "What happened at yours?"

"I don't really know... All I know is that my father's dead and I'm a monster."

"So a long story that can be summed up with the probably wanting you?"

"Yep."

@glee-of-ares-wrath-of-aphrodite @daonedaonlyskh @damiedantediane @that-random-poseidon-child @apollos-favorite-child

@arisdaughter @aria-pane @lovely-liilies-and-lillacs

ooc: tag list absolutely made up on the fly. Totally get it if you don't want to be tagged.

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, let me know :)

#Finley needs your attention now #percy jackson #pjo rp #percy jackon and the olympians #camp half blood #pjo roleplay #pjo #percy jackson oc #percy jackson rp #oc lore #lore drop #lore post

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jamisonwritestf2trash · 1 year

Note

minific :) hope u like it!! it doesnt have much of canon lore applied, and its Mann Vs Machine. Spy bein a dad when its far too late :(

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The team had been split up when the robots attacked, and Scout and Sniper had gotten stuck together. Not that it was any issue for Scout, though. He figured the Australian wouldn't mind sticking with him for a little while, and so far, he hasn't left. But it's too quiet, even for someone like Sniper, the least talkative member on the team.

"Hey, you think the others are alright?" Scout looks at the marksman.

"Why wouldn't they be? They've better aim when close up than I ever bloody will." Sniper glances at Scout before returning his gaze to the hallway ahead of them. Broken robots lay littered about.

"Someone was here." Sniper frowns. "They must not be far."

"No shit, Sherlock-- is that blood?" Scout frowns, the red stain on the floor catching his attention.

"Yeah. Trail o' it, too..." Sniper frowns. "You follow it. I'll make sure there's no more of the bloody boltheads comin' down the halls."

"Gotcha." Scout quickly begins to follow the trail until he reaches the end of the hallway, where the rough smell of cigarette smoke fills the air.

"Ah. It's you." The voice of Spy says from the dark, and Scout flicks the lights on. Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn't... this.

Spy's injured badly. There's blood staining his suit in multiple areas, and what appears to be a gunshot wound to his upper body seems to be the main cause.

"Holy crap...!" Scout quickly snaps out of the trance he was in, and opens the duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He digs through it, pulling out bandages. Of course he'd forgotten the medkits. Fan-fucking-tastic.

"Scout, I am no doctor, but I don't think a simple band aid is going to heal a bullet wound." Spy glares at the runner.

"I'm tryna help you, man! Cut me some slack." Scout scowls, and Spy just sighs.

"Scout. Just... stop. I'm not making it out of this room alive. My leg is broken and I've been shot four times. It's a miracle I'm not already dead." Spy pushes the bandages away, fllicking his burned-out cigarette away with his other hand.

"Well... that's just morbid. I can use comms to get Snipes to find Doc?" Scout reaches for his headpiece, but Spy shakes his head.

"I want you to listen to me, boy. I don't want to be saved. I've accepted that I'm not going to make it out of here. It's better this way."

"Spy--"

"Shut up!" Spy raises his voice to a yell, before letting out a pained sigh, propping himself higher up against the wall. "Just... listen to what I have to say, Jeremy."

Scout's eyes widen slightly. He isn't wearing his dog tags, there's no way Spy could've known.

"How--"

"This will... sound familiar, I hope. I hate repeating myself." Spy lights a second cigarette. Hesitating. "27 years ago, I met a beautiful woman. She was everything I could've wished for... and we were happy together. As Tom Jones would say, I... dropped a 'sex bomb' on her. I was young then, and I ran from the explosion."

It all sounds so familiar. Had Scout heard this before? Where? When...? He can remember someone saying this to him...

Holy. Crap.

"You... You were the Tom Jones that I saw." Scout whispers. Spy just nods.

"I... It is one of my many regrets, leaving you and your mother behind. I was a coward. I suppose I still am, since it would seem I can only admit to this on the edge of death." Speaking is getting more difficult for Spy, and Scout can tell, hesitating before lowering his headpiece.

"Snipes. Find Doc. Hurry."

"Mate-? Wha--" The Australian's cut off as Scout tosses the headpiece aside, and Scout kneels at Spy's side.

"You're my dad. I-- I can't let you just... die here! There's... so much lost time to be made up." Scout starts unravelling the bandage. Maybe it's the shock stopping him from feeling the pain in his leg from a loose nail digging into his knee, maybe it's the sudden adrenaline rush. Doesn't matter. Spy needs to make it out of this alive.

"Jeremy." Spy's voice is calm, with the slightest hint of pain in it. Scout looks up at Spy, who takes his mask off.

He looks just like how Scout's ma had always described him, just... older, with streaks of grey in his styled-back hair and dark circles under his eyes that Scout had never noticed before. But they share the same blue eyes.

"I am proud to see the man you've become. You've made good friends. Your mother did amazing raising you." Spy pulls a photo from his suit pocket, holding it out to Scout. "Here. I kept this when I left. I always have it with me."

It's a photo of 2 year old Scout, with his mother and Spy sitting beside him, watching him open his christmas present: A baseball bat.

Scout looks back at Spy, his vision blurry. Spy smiles at him, whispering something in French that Scout can't understand, and Scout can see the life leave Spy's eyes.

"Dad?" Scout's voice is small, his eyes wide, staring at Spy's motionless body. He tentatively reaches over and shakes Spy's shoulder, but the Frenchman doesn't respond. He's dead. Forcing back a sob, he pulls the corpse into a hug as the sound of footsteps behind him come closer and closer.

Scout never got the chance to learn his father's name.

I AM SOBBING

THIS IS SO GOOD, I LOVE THIS! THIS IS JUST OUGH.

The angst got to me. I'm not gonna lie. This is so amazing, Anon. If you ever start writing these on your blog (or if you already do), please let me know because I will be your number one fan, I swear 💪

Thank you for sending this in. It is very much appreciated. Keep up the good work. You're an amazing writer, and I literally can't compliment you enough!!!

#ask #tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 spy #tf2 scout #tf2 sniper #spydad #EVEYONE LOOK AT HOW COOL THIS ANON IS!#MiniFicAnon

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illusion-reality-steve · 10 months

Text

Coming soon: Galaxy Family 2023 Ask-a-thon

The poll has concluded. The Galaxy Family 2023 Ask-a-thon will be starting on November 27, which is 5 days from now!

I'm in the process of scheduling everything, so there is no detailed schedule for now. It will come eventually. For now, here's all the other important information.

11/23 update: detailed schedule is here now!

What is the Galaxy Family 2023 ask-a-thon?

It is a marathon-like event where I’ll be answering a lot of asks in the span of 5 days. There will be a lot of posts during this week, all related to Galaxy Family and RRFF headcanons! (and some miscellaneous stuff)

What kind of content will be posted during Galaxy Family 2023 ask-a-thon?

The ask-a-thon will only feature asks the blog has received before November 2023. This event is not about sending asks during the event for me to answer in real time. The event is about me finally catching up with the asks in my inbox. If I receive any asks during the ask-a-thon, they will be answered sometime after the event, not during.

How many posts will be in the ask-a-thon?

Around 42. But I'll be honest: I may have miscounted, and there may be less than 42 posts.

11/23 update: 40 asks! (one ask contains 4 questions, so there will be 37 posts total!)

I know this isn't as many posts as the last big ask-a-thon. I know I still have plenty of Galaxy Family asks to get to. I hope to eventually get to all of them, whether it be for a regular post or a future big ask-a-thon!

Is this interactive? How do I participate in the ask-a-thon?

Not interactive. The ask-a-thon only goes over asks already sent to me, not asks sent during the event.

To participate, all you gotta do is sit back, follow my blog, and enjoy my blog posting exceptionally more content than usual.

Feel free to send follow-up asks after the event if you have something to say. Just understand that the follow-up asks will be addressed after the event, and it might take a while for me to get to them. The frequency of posts will resume to “3 posts a week” after the ask-a-thon.

What if I don’t want to see anything from the ask-a-thon?

All ask-a-thon posts will be tagged "galaxy family 2023 ask a thon" (no dashes). Feel free to blacklist that tag if you don’t want the ask-a-thon to flood your dashboard.

Conversely, the "galaxy family 2023 ask a thon" is how you can keep track of all the posts for the event. Feel free to follow this tag to keep a closer eye on the ask-a-thon.

When will the RRFF/Galaxy Family masterpost be updated with all these answered questions and lore drops?

I'll get the masterpost fully updated by December 8, a week after the ask-a-thon.

Is there a schedule for the ask-a-thon? I want to make sure the ask I’ve sent a long time ago will be a part of the event.

Yes. There is a detailed schedule beneath the "Keep Reading/Read More" section. It’ll give you details about each day of the ask-a-thon, such as how many posts are scheduled for that day, and the specific asks that’ll be answered on that day. That way, if anyone is worried that they missed a post, or they don't know when an anticipated ask will come, they can refer to the detailed schedule below.

See you at the ask-a-thon! If you have any questions or concerns, drop an ask! I’ll try to clarify any confusion or concerns.

Galaxy Family 2023 Ask-a-thon Detailed Schedule

Note: this schedule follows Eastern Standard Time (EST). All posts will be released in 5 minute intervals.

Monday, November 27

5:00pm-5:45pm: 10 asks

Theme: The Galaxy Family all together!

The asks:

Owl House covens

Your opinion on whether or not Time and Memory would be amazing cryptographers because they grew up with Elemental

"Oh, so you like the Galaxy Family? Name all the members" response

Phases the Galaxy Family kiddos went through

If the Galaxy Fam were elements (earth, fire, water, air, ice, etc) what would they be?

Age of the Galaxy Family members

Music tastes of the Galaxy Family members

Strength of the Galaxy Family members

Illusion's physically appearance

Quadruple bunk beds

Tuesday, November 28

5:00pm-5:25pm: 6 asks

Theme: 1-on-1 character interactions

The asks:

Illusion and Alex: angst

Elemental and Illusion: hair

Everyone: bite

Elemental and Memory: pumpkin soup

Illusion and Time: cute childhood thing

Elemental and Illusion: babied

Wednesday, November 29

5:00pm-5:20pm: 8 asks

Theme: LGBT headcanons

The asks:

Pride flags

Trans!Memory ideas

Questions about Illusion's gender (1 of 4)

Questions about Illusion's gender (2 of 4)

Questions about Illusion's gender (3 of 4)

Questions about Illusion's gender (4 of 4)

Bunk bed

Galaxy and Elemental's sexualities and gender headcanons

Thursday, November 30

5:00pm-5:25pm: 6 asks

Theme: AUs

The asks:

Secret descendant AU

Alex raises Illusion instead AU

Unified Galaxy Family AU

Older Sister AU

Slumbering Memories AU

Demon Steve and Guardian AU

Friday, December 1

5:00pm-5:45pm: 10 asks

Theme: Miscellaneous

The asks:

Baby zombies

Void face reveal

Rainbow's age in RRFF

Memory's favorite enemy type from Deltarune

Discord

American sounding RRFF characters

Scars on Steves

Illusion's age and voice claims

Memory doing anything lol

Illusion's bangs

#i didn't have enough time to proofread this post so please forgive any errors #my computer crashed on me while i was writing this post so i had to write this two times *sob*#galaxy family 2023 ask a thon #update #steve saga #the galaxy family #favremysabre #rrff #rrff steve saga

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brawlqueen · 9 months

Text

PSA. / 2024 goals !

the reason i haven't been writing a lot is i've mostly been on my OC trying to play catch up on her lore and worldbuilding. you can find her in the pinned post . also i've been planning what i want to do for mizuki for 2024, and my interest very normal love for best girl only gets better each year. i just hope to do justice by her in my own way as i figure out what i'm doing post AI1.

as i'm canon divergent and i have a few things to talk about that i'll be hoping to capture or discuss hopefully some of this year that are parts of my mizuki's canon ! so i'll try doing it in uh, the most organized way because one goal i have at least for 2024 is better blog organization . it's too late to make a sideblog for musings / etc . THINGS I'LL BE DOING THIS YEAR . - focusing on catch up. unless a thread is requested to be dropped, please message me if so, i'll be continuing it. some i will drop for my own sanity, not because i don't want to write with you again! - seasonal / holidays asks will just be holiday asks with no specific content save for people i owe, ex: bubblez' kizuna or thane's trunks, etc. why? i think mizuki deserves to celebrate the holidays or anything remotely happy because while aiba is arguably as of now her best support system, let's be real, i genuinely want to find and work on any of her relationships because she's severely lacking in support. even from 2023. i'll try to stay more on the ball for again, my own sanity this year when i reblog them. - i will be writing my version of post-canon mizuki and child mizuki, that goes from her time before adoption from date, aka with shoko and renju which will be tagged appropriately because honestly mizuki doesn't know many reliable adult figures in her life, and it makes me very sad that she's arguably more mature than...most people save say, boss or pewter or hitomi etc. she deserves better! just because AI2 certainly isn't everyone's cup of tea, and it isn't mine in a LOT of ways, i still took stuff from it, and i don't think it's fair to halt mizuki at 12 forever just because we fairly have critique of NI / AINI and not let her grow up and experience a hopeful future and more bonds to fill the huge hole in her heart. let her be happy is the goal !

now i'm working on mizuki's post canon verse, as i've restarted aitsf 1 to move to aitsf 2, where i'll take a few things that i won't likely budge on unless you meet me halfway !

the verse title for anything post-canon and generally for 18 year old mizuki / teen mizuki or post explosion mizuki will be this verse tag!

__ 𝐕; 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍*ೃ༄ not compromising with just this; i'm taking back all the happiness i lost.

now onto her post canon details i do have figured out.

mizuki and aiba are partners. one thing that's consistent is through her time with date, that can still be a thing because they ARE a family, albeit i feel estranged granted the resolution route is canon, so mizuki never really got to bond with him, get her aphonia cured, vice versa, is aiba's care through time in his eye socket appreciating the girl's strength and endurance and intelligence in both games. you can have more than one partner, and until / if we have another game and mizuki possibly gets another partner and i debate the chemistry, aiba is mizuki's partner and aiba is generally mostly with mizuki, but that doesn't mean she isn't with date too. she can love more than one person. and both dates are equally dear to her.

mizuki was still experimented on until 3 years old at horadori institute, albeit she has blurry memories at best, and i debate if she should fully remember! one factor of her godlike superhuman strength. but she also is trained in most japanese martial arts she can get her hands on! she is NOT a clone of bibi, bibi doesn't exist whatsoever despite me enjoying her personality, even if i felt it was made to mimic mizuki herself, if others who have muses with canon bonds to bibi, please talk to me so we can plot it out if you keep her as part of your canon ! as long as we meet halfway i'm more than happy to work with you !

mizuki is still a rookie detective and psyncer at ABIS. in my canon, she actually looks to ryuki, also new, but older for advice and i like to think as dual protagonists that they should have been, they get to do some cases together! only if a ryuki is willing of course.

for now, she's working on small to medium cases with aiba. the explosion still happened that took her vision clean out. she does this because of the gruesome history she has, not wanting others to suffer the same kind of unimaginable trauma she has with both biological parents murdered in various means and i'm still debating whether tearer even exists. he likely will, and if people also have the other culprit's actions in their canon, please talk to me too and i'll work together with you on that !

mizuki still runs lemniscate and sunfish pocket. she doesn't have the heart yet to really let go of her neglectful biological father's companies, even if he didn't care for her in a way she needed. in time, i'll see how she feels about this, as i do plan for mizuki to continue her education, as the girl is extremely intelligent.

mizuki is still best friends with iris, but my mizuki also considers amame and kizuna two of her really close friends, but they aren't a sister to her like iris is. they're certainly caring of her, and she'd protect them with her life, but she isn't as close to them as iris, and all of them do hang out together from what i've seen.

my mizuki is a lot more skeptical for the kizunas out there, of lien. she isn't comfortable with his advances towards one of her best friends and generally is a lot more protective. that said, it's all according to people who write kizzy. naturally she's fiercely protective of iris, who now is someone who works for her too as the president of an entertainment company.

my mizuki comes from the MIZUKI ROUTE in terms of character development but NOT THE PLOT EVENTS . iris is not inhabited by so sejima. date and mizuki DO bond like a father and daughter. date unless a date talks to me, DOES cure her aphonia or it's hitomi herself like canon because hitomi is the mom she deserves imho. but i tend to take away the development of her character and their relationship otherwise i feel the date family bond is....pretty estranged or mizuki is MUCH more doubtful of date caring for her at all granted the routes and how she tends to get overlooked a lot.

basically i want to as one of i'm sure other mizuki-mun's, give her my best in my own way, at my own pace !

and those are my goals as i replay the games (again!) . i hope to keep developing mizuki and thank you for being so patient with me as always, everyone ! also kinda sorry for the long post but it was all necessary !

#𝐏𝐒𝐀 *ೃ༄ do you wanna get your ass kicked?#𝐎𝐎𝐂 *ೃ༄ what looks gone but comes back even stronger.#also there are spoilers but uh it's kinda inevitable #ugh mizuki and the girls all deserve better in some way huh #i know the guys do too but geez....#oh well our sandbox right?#i would play aini for the characters !#and the somniums feel a lot more fun and i love unlimited psync and getting rewards / rank up with eyeballies etc #also ryuki and tama are so great i'm glad they exist :' )#also i really like kizuna and will defend her with my life. same with amame. they are REALLY important to her too. but iris is her goofy si #but like I hopefully said! if you have different takes on the series let’s meet halfway!#I’m really chill on that I just want Mizuki to be happy 🥹

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fenharel-enaste · 2 years

Text

Smiles among Scrolls || Elendil x fem!Reader

Rating: +18

Summary: You're an apprentice in the Hall of Lore and and new visitor catches your eye... and you his.

Content: Mutual pining, idiots in love, lots of feelings, unprotected sex (don't do this pls), p in v sex, fingering, smutty smut.

Word count: 5.2k

Requested by: @thetempleofthemasaigoddess (I'm so sorry for the long delay omg)

Tagging: @starlady66 , @grinkitty, @wint3r-h3art

It's also on AO3!

You had only been an apprentice at the Hall of Lore for a few months. On a daily basis, you took care of simple tasks, such as organising texts and helping visitors to find what they needed. But what you enjoyed most was studying and learning about the new (and not so new) writings that came in. The day you were accepted to study with the masters and begin a career full of learning was undoubtedly one of the most exciting days of your life.

But you hadn't expected to find much else there besides knowledge.

You would never forget the day you first saw him. Elendil was his name. And you could swear you had never seen a more attractive man in your life.

You were organising the books and scrolls of the library when you heard a deep, soft voice behind you.

“Excuse me, my lady.” A voice that almost gave you goose bumps from the very first moment. You turned to see the face of the person who was speaking to you. And you were met with such a breathtaking visage and gaze that you felt your heart had stopped beating for a moment. He was unbelievably tall and handsome.

“I...” His gaze roamed over your face for a few seconds before he looked away and cleared his throat to speak. “I’m sorry to disturb you, my lady. My name is Elendil, I’m a captain of the sea guard. I was wondering you had any charts of the former maritime trade routes south of Númenor. I could use some from thirty or forty years ago. Would it be possible?”

He spoke that last question looking back at you again, this time with a polite, sweet smile on his face. You felt so nervous you almost dropped the scrolls you held in your arms, but you pulled yourself together when you realised the unknown visitor was waiting for an answer.

“Uhh yes! Yes, I think so. Please wait here, my lord, while I search for it.”

You turned away from him more abruptly than you normally would. What was wrong with you? He was just a person. He was just a person. You hurried to the shelves where you knew all the maritime charts from the Second Age were kept, neatly arranged by geographic area and date.

You returned to Elendil as soon as you found what you were looking for and offered it to him with a slight bow of your head, as you had been taught to do. "Thank you, my lady, you are most kind,” he said returning the gesture as he received the documents with a grateful smile.

Elendil. That's what he said his name was. And you couldn't get it out of your mind for the days that followed, wondering if you'd ever see him again.

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

A week had passed when it seemed the Valar had finally answered your prayers. You were assisting a visitor when you saw the captain who had just entered the library.

His eyes wandered around the room until they met yours, he nodded his head as a greeting as he gave you that same smile you hadn’t been able to get out of your head all week. You returned it shyly, for longer than you thought it seemed, because you realised too late that you had stopped listening to the woman in front of you.

After apologising and handing her the documents she had requested, you approached Elendil, who was intently admiring one of the ancient canvases on the wall. You found him even more attractive than the last time, if that was possible.

“Sorry to keep you waiting sir, how could I help you?” You tried to sound as professional as you could, but you felt a slight quiver in your voice betraying you.

“It gladdens me greatly to see you again, my lady.” You felt the warmth rise to your cheeks at his words. “Do you remember those charts I requested from you last time? I'm afraid I need to have another look at them, I seem to have made a mistake in my notes...”

“Of course, my lord, at once.” You had to force yourself to look away from his ocean blue eyes and turn around to look for the maps once more.

When you handed them to him this time, your fingers touched briefly and you couldn't help but look away. You started to turn away so he wouldn't notice your blush, pretending to be in a hurry to get back to work, but you were interrupted by his velvety voice. "Wait." For a second, you thought you saw pleading in his eyes. “Would it be inappropriate of me to ask your name?”

Why...? No other visitor had ever asked you that. The only questions they had were about where to find the documents they needed or if you could help them translate something. It caught you by surprise. “My name?”

“Yes, I... you do not have to respond. I would simply like to know since I’ll have to come here quite often for a while. Matters of the sea guard. And...” He hesitated and smiled shyly before speaking further. “And I would very much like to know the name of the so kind lady who might be so helpful to me in the coming days.”

You were speechless at his request. He was simply asking your name, but the way he did it felt... like the best compliment you had ever received. Your reply emerged from your lips timidly.

“That’s a lovely name, my lady. It will for sure be one hard to forget,” he said before slowly walking away from you to the same table he used last time. And you returned to your work, or tried to, as you found it impossible to take your eyes off that dashing man as he closely studied his maps. At times, you had the impression that he was looking at you as well, but you were aware that these were just no more than naive delusions.

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

Days, weeks went by, and Elendil was coming more and more regularly, since his research was taking longer than he expected. Not that you were complaining, for that was what kept him coming back so often.

You were surprised when one day he invited you to join him to keep him company while he studied his elaborate charts, but you were happy to oblige. And the same happened the next day and the next, until it became a routine for both of you. You would sit across the table from him and talk for hours.

The captain would ask you questions about your days at the Hall of Lore with genuine curiosity on his face; what you found most interesting about that place, anecdotes about the rarest books you'd ever been requested. And also about your life; where you grew up, what had led you to become an apprentice there, what you did in your leisure time...

You learned a lot about him too. He told you he grew in western Númenor, things were very different from the capital there. He had three wonderful children, and he shared with you what he loved most about each of them, and also what got on his nerves.

One day, he even told you about his investigation. The sea guard had been hunting for some time now a band of pirates who were becoming a problem for trade in the city. They were supposed, or so the rumours said, to be using old trade routes for their smuggling operations, but these routes had changed significantly over the years. There were too many possible options. And these were also said to change every few days, so that one week's research work might be of no use for the next.

Every day you woke up hoping to see him there, sometimes you would even learn about those sea routes he mentioned in order to help him. Or maybe you did it just to have a conversation with him. You loved listening to him talk about the stories he had experienced at sea, you could see passion in his eyes when you would ask him about them and you couldn't stop smiling the whole time.

You got to know each other better as the weeks went by. Although there were days when the number of visitors made it difficult to spend too much time with Elendil. But, as always, you were unable to take your eyes off him. This time, you were fully aware that he stared back at you sometimes, and you smiled at each other knowingly.

The attraction you felt the first few days was still there and you couldn't help but blushing every moment and getting flustered every time he was around. But you knew that attraction was evolving into something else too, and you couldn't stop thinking about it. He was charming, kind, attentive, handsome... perfect. On days when he wasn't there, you spent hours daydreaming about him and the different scenarios that could happen.

There were times when you even wondered if he might feel the same way, but you convinced yourself that these were nothing more than fantasies. One day he would complete his work there and he'd have no reason to see you again. You had to remind yourself of that to avoid the suffering later on.

But to hear his voice, his bad jokes and the sound of his laughter... at least you could have that for the moment.

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

It was an autumn afternoon when it began to rain heavily outside the Hall of Lore. You loved the view of the dark sea and sky from the safety of the ancient library as the torrential rain poured down. It was clear it would be a fairly quiet day, as no one in their right mind would go to that place so far from civilisation in such conditions; and it was to be assumed that Elendil wouldn’t show up that day either.

You and the other few lore keepers who lived there finished your chores early and were allowed to take the rest of the day off. You decided to spend it at the same desk where you had grown so used to your conversations with Elendil several days a week. You read about the fascinating stories that inspired you to become an apprentice almost a year ago now.

The sound and smell of the rain and the howling wind always helped you to relax during your reading time, and today you felt your eyelids getting heavy. You were about to fall asleep when you heard a soft, familiar voice call your name.

You were dreaming about him again. You smiled at the thought.

But, after a few seconds, you noticed the sound came from outside your mind. You jolted at the realisation and looked up towards where the voice was coming from.

There he was.

“Oh forgive me, I wasn’t aware you all were resting. Should I come back another time?” He looked genuinely concerned about having disturbing you somehow.

“No! No, it’s no bother at all, of course. What do you need to-...?” Your words vanished into thin air when you realised that he was drenched. The rain was still falling heavily outside. “Wait, did you really ride all the way here from Armenelos with this storm?”

He chuckled at your surprised tone. “It’d be definitely worse if I was sailing out there, believe me, I know.”

“I see...” You then noticed the water drops falling to the ground from the hooded cloak that covered him, he must be soaked to the bone. “May I take your cloak at least?”

He nodded and reached for his clasp to take it off. Normally you wait for visitors to hand it to you once they've removed it, but you walked over to him and placed your hands on his shoulders to help him. It was a completely impulsive act. You felt his body tense slightly at the contact. You feared you might have crossed the line with him. “I’m sorry,” you muttered with a trembling voice.

“There’s no need to apologize, my lady. You are so kind. As always.” He was staring at you intensely but so sweetly from above. You sometimes forgot how tall and imposing he truly was. And you were very, much closer than ever before. You could feel his breath on your cheek. And he made no attempt to pull away, he just kept looking at you in that way that made your legs weak.

You wanted, needed to kiss him right at that moment, it was the only thing on your mind. You needed all your willpower to come to your senses and break away from him. You couldn't bear the thought of crossing a boundary of his twice in the same day. But the thought of him rejecting you was even more unbearable.

You folded the cloak in your arms and began to turn towards a nearby hanger... and you felt a grip in your arm, impeding your movement. You turned your head to see Elendil staring at you even more intensely than before. He opened his mouth as if he was about to say something, but only a sigh escaped his lips along with a soft 'thank you' before he slowly let go of your arm.

What on Arda was that?

After a few seconds of bewilderment and placing the cloak on the hanger, you managed to ask him what he needed today.

“Yes, we... we received a new rumour this time. It may be the reason why we haven’t found the smugglers yet.” He paused, sorting out the ideas in his head. “We know for sure they only use old maritime routes, which we’ve been relentlessly investigating. But we’ve only considered the ones used in this Age so far.”

You could see what he was trying to tell you. “And you need information about the ones used in the First Age.” He nodded at your response with resolution on his face. You knew he was unlikely to find answers in those charts, but the man was persistent.

You explained to him that you had very few maps from that time, most of them were lost long ago in wars or had worn out over time. Besides, they were from a time before Númenor, only the Eldar sailed those waters back then, so there were very few copies on the isle. The very few preserved there were in a secluded chamber, protected from sunlight, humidity and inexperienced hands. Still, he insisted.

You led him down a dark corridor to an even darker chamber, for there was no window in order to protect the delicate archives from the changing climate. It was lit only by a few candles, and consisted of very narrow aisles of bookshelves, separated only by small desks between them. There was little room to move freely between them.

You slipped between two shelves full of ancient books and scrolls and handed Elendil the candle you were holding in order to better examine the documents. The limited space required you to stand close together. Dangerously close, you thought. Nervousness washed over you again, and you struggled to stay focused on your task.

You both remained silent as you searched through the scrolls, only the sound of the rain outside echoing off the walls of the room.

“Could you lower the candle? I need to see more closely on this shelf.” There was no reaction from him. “Elendil?” You looked up and found him staring blankly, thoughtfully. But he was startled by your voice.

“Forgive me. I was distracted.” He had been acting strangely ever since you approached him to take his cloak off. You felt him tense and unfocused. Perhaps he had become aware of your thoughts, that you had been on the verge of kissing him. Maybe he felt uncomfortable... you'd rather not dwell on it at the moment.

“I’ll be honest, Elendil, I don't think you'll find what you need here. Only the Eldar have ever used these routes and it's unlikely pirates would have access to that information. By the Valar, it seems that not even we have access to it.”

“I see... I thought it was worth a try, even so.” You perceived a hint of sadness in his voice, which was surprising for you. You could understand if he was disappointed, even frustrated at failing to complete his mission... but saddened?

“I'm sorry I can't do anything more for you. Especially knowing that you came all this way in this storm just for this.”

“It’s alright, you have done so much for me, I have no words to express how much I appreciate your help. Besides, I told you I’ve been in worse storms than this,” he said, giving you that sweet smile you'd seen so many times before, but avoiding looking you in the eye.

“I know, but was it that necessary coming today? You've been working on it for months, why didn’t you wait unt-”

“Because of you,” he interrupted, muttering his words.

Because of... what? You were completely frozen, you were unable to think or react. Your heart started pounding. Maybe it was your imagination and you only heard what you wanted to hear. "What...?" You could barely utter a sound.

“I wanted to see you,” he said it louder this time, punctuating each word clearly. There was no doubt.

“You... you’ve come here today... to see me?” You felt your heartbeat in your ears now, heat rising to your cheeks.

“No. Everyday. I’ve come here everyday to see you.” Your head started to spin. You must have fallen asleep earlier while reading and this was just a dream, like the many dreams you'd had before in which he confessed his love for you. But each word he spoke convinced you more and more of how real it was.

“My first instinct was right. We found the pirates within two weeks from the first time we met. Each day from then, you’re the only reason I’ve been coming here all the way from Armenelos.”

You wanted to speak, to tell him what you had felt for him since the first time you saw him. But you couldn't find the words, you couldn't pronounce them, you could barely remember how to breathe at that moment. All you could hear was his beautiful voice saying those sweet words to you.

“I wanted to learn more about you from the first time I saw you. That's why I kept coming here from time to time and, before I knew it, I was dreaming about you. And then seeing you was the first thing I would think of when I woke up everyday. You made me feel like a foolish, lovesick young boy again.”

He moved even closer to you, if that was possible in the restricted space you had, and took your hand in his. It was warm in comparison to the coldness of the chamber that day. You wanted him to never let it go.

“There were days when you were so busy that you barely had time to talk to me, but it didn't make it any less worthwhile to come here. I was content just to look at your face and be with you for just a brief few minutes. I was captivated by you.”

You couldn’t help it any longer, the warm touch of his hand on yours, his face, even more ravishing than ever by the candlelight he was holding. You could see the agonising wait for your answer in his eyes. Courage finally took over and you slowly brought your hand up to his face, tenderly brushing his beard, and then his lips.

And you pressed your lips against his.

He seemed taken aback, as if he wasn't expecting such a response from you. You felt the tension in his body being released before kissing you back. He placed the candle carefully on the desk next to you, which he had to do blindly, as he didn't want to leave your lips at any time.

He then brings both hands to your waist and pushes you slowly until your back collides with the shelves behind you. Your head spins as Elendil begins to deepen the kiss, sliding his tongue into your mouth, caressing yours so expertly. He slides one of his hands up from your waist to the back of your head, pulling you even tighter against his mouth. Your hands cannot leave his face and his hair, which you tug gently, eliciting a soft moan from his lips.

“I’ve been dreaming about this for so long... longer than I should admit. How would I know I’m not dreaming as well this time?” Elendil murmurs between kisses before cupping your face in his hands and staring into your eyes, brushing aside a strand of your hair. “Would it be too bold of me to say that I love you?”

Your heart skips a beat at his words and you feel tears forming in your eyes. You were so in love with that man. “I love you too, Elendil. You have no idea how long I’ve been loving you, praying to the Valar to see you everyday.” You had never felt more liberated than at this moment, knowing you could finally say aloud the words you had always said in silence.

Elendil sighed with relief and all he could do was smile. “Yes, this must definitely be a dream...” And he brought his lips back to yours.

You didn't know how long you stayed like this, nearly out of breath, but you couldn't have enough of him and his taste, a taste you'd spent too long imagining what it would be like. And now you both wanted to make up for all that lost time, kissing each other once for every time you'd wanted to do so since your eyes met for the first time, even if it meant not separating your lips until the next morning.

Your kisses and soft moans were the only sounds in the lonely chamber, hidden by the pouring rain outside, which seemed louder than before. After a while you found yourself panting and grinding eagerly against the captain while he bit and left wet kisses on your neck and cleavage. You began to inconciously tug on his clothes in desperation. You needed to see him. All of him.

“Elendil... please, I need you.” You had never felt this aroused by anyone before, you didn't recognise yourself in your behaviour, and yet, everything you did felt more like you than ever before.

Elendil wasted no time and pulled away from you just enough to remove the upper part of his clothes. Before he could have even finished, you already had your hands in his trousers, hastily trying to unbutton them, and the captain laughed at your eagerness.

“Glad to know I'm not the most impatient one here,” he said playfully, bringing his hands to your dress and unfastening it to expose your breasts to him. After lustfully staring at them for a moment, he cupped them in his large, rough hands and squeezed them gently, bringing his mouth to them and sucking, circling your so sensitive nipples with his warm tongue and caressing and tugging on them with his fingers. You have to cover your mouth with your hand to keep from moaning too loudly It's unlikely anyone would walk in there, but that would change if someone heard what was going on in that chamber.

The captain's caresses and mouth on your breasts made you feel your underwear quickly dampen and you brought your hands back to his trousers to finish unbuttoning them and free his member. You felt it hard and throbbing in your hand when you grabbed it. It was... definitely thicker than you expected. It made you feel a tingle between your legs, and you began to move your hips involuntarily towards it as you stroked it slowly.

“Fuck, love,” Elendil shuddered at the contact and ceased playing with your breasts to completely remove your dress along with your underwear. He took your hands and wrapped your arms around his neck. You whined as he pulled your hand away from his length, you wanted to please him so badly.

“I know you want it, pretty one, but I have to make you ready for me first.” And you soon realised why he had made you cling to him when he grabbed one of your thighs and lifted it, placing your leg against his hip. He then reached between your legs with his other hand and gently brushed your clit and folds before sliding a finger into your soaking entrance.

“Oh fu-” you blurted out too loudly and Elendil silenced you with his mouth on yours. “Shhh, it’s alright, love. But remember we have to remain quiet.” You nodded your head in obedience and he resumed his strokes inside you. You were so wet he found you prepared for a second finger, which slid in easily, and he continued kissing you deeply to muffle your moans as he worked his fingers inside you, stretching open your tight walls for what was to come. It felt so good it was hard to keep your balance if it wasn't for your arms around his neck and the shelves the captain had you pinned against.

Your moans in his mouth were driving him insane, so he instinctively pressed his hard cock against your hips and began to rub it against you. “I’ve wanted this for so long, my dear. Tell me, have you ever imagined me doing this to you?” he inquired in your ear in a low voice and in an even lower register than you'd ever heard him before. It made you shiver.

“Yes! Yes, so many times...” And you told him about the times you had pleasured yourself in sleepless nights, covering your mouth with your hand so you wouldn't wake the other apprentices, thinking about the things you wanted him to do to you. Or those times when you excused yourself and disappeared during his visits; you told him exactly what you were doing.

It was becoming increasingly difficult for you to speak, for as you related your fantasies to him, his fingers gained speed inside you. You were a panting mess after a few minutes.

Your words seemed to have an effect on him, as he groaned with arousal and withdrew his fingers from you to lift you off the floor and onto the small desk beside you. “I need to take you know, sweetheart, do you want it?” he asked, teasing you with his throbbing cock.

“Yes, please! Please!” You were soaking wet, so ready for him.

“Look at me.” He lifted your face with one hand while he brought the other to the small of your back. You were leering at each other's eyes as Elendil slid his cock slowly through your entrance. You struggled not to whine too loudly, his size made you feel some discomfort, but that just turned you on even more; it felt incredibly good.

“It’s alright, love. I have you.” He drove himself as deep as he could and allowed you to get used to his size before slowly but steadily thrusting himself deep inside you. You ran your hands all over his tonned chest, leaving kisses and little bites everywhere you could, taking them higher and higher until you reached his neck. Elendil shuddered at the touch of your lips in that sensitive spot and pulled you even tighter against him, cherishing every inch of your body with his warm hands. You wrapped your legs around his hips, encouraging him to fuck you even deeper. It felt like you were never close enough, even though there was hardly any space between the two of you.

You can't stop caressing, kissing and biting each other to muffle your whimpers and groans. Your whole body was on fire despite the cold temperature of the room. “Say my name, my love. I need to hear you say it,” he whispered in your ear as he increased the pace of his pounding, hitting exactly where you needed him the most. You felt so full of him and you knew you weren't going to last much longer, and you could see he was close as well. But you wanted even more of him...

“Elendil... captain, harder... please...” you begged desperately. The way you said his name, the title you used on him, your watering pleading eyes looking at his... he couldn’t hold himself any longer.

“As you wish, my lady,” he groaned and grabbed your ass tightly to hold you in place as he began to brutally ram into you. You had to hold on to his strong arms and shoulders to keep your balance, clinging on so tightly you'd probably leave marks, but he didn't seem to mind. In fact, he appeared to enjoy the effect he was having on you, forcing you to use all your willpower to keep your loud cries from coming out of your mouth.

“Next time, pretty one, I’ll make sure to take you somewhere where I can hear your lovely cries. And believe me, I will hear them...” His promise made the pressure in your belly grow stronger, you were so, so close, and your captain knew it by the tears that began to fall from your eyes. It only took a few more thrusts in your so sensitive spot to bring you over the edge. It was amazingly intense; your orgasms you had over the past few months imagining he was the one giving them to you were nothing in comparison. He kept his relentless rhythm even then, wanting to prolong your climax as long as possible, balls slapping hard against you as your body was hit by waves after waves of pleasure.

Even before your orgasm faded at all, you heard Elendil's grunts of pleasure against your shoulder as he slowed the pace of his thrusts, though not the depth. His hands gripped your ass even tighter than before as he rode his orgasm.

Your hands remained tangled in his hair until his movements ceased completely. You were both spent and sated, with sweat all over your bodies, shivering a slightly from the intensity of what had happened. Elendil didn't want to remove his length from you just yet, he wanted to stay that close to you for a bit longer.

You spent the next few minutes like that, showering each other in kisses and whispering sweet nothings and words of love.

“I’ve been such a fool for not telling you sooner,” you admitted. “We could have done this a long time ago if it hadn't been for my fear of you rejecting me.”

Elendil took the hand you had against his cheek and pressed his lips against it. “I’m afraid I have been even more foolish, my stars. Asking you day after day for all those charts... with you around I wasn’t even paying attention to them at all.” You both laughed in disbelief at how ridiculous this whole situation had been.

“Just so you know, my love; I would’ve had to be the most insane man on earth to reject you.”

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