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harrysfluff · 2 years

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Dough

A/n: Was sitting in physics and said “what if chef!harry had smut” so heres some chef harry smut.

Summary: chef harry is gonna miss you. Some angst smut???

TW: sex and a possible sanitation problem

The noise form bustling streets usually lulled you to sleep; you were use to the constant sirens, horns, people yelling. It all just seemed background noise. Yet, the loud start of a siren woke you from your sleep. The siren continued for a few blocks. You instinctively moved towards Harry’s side, your arms prepared to wrap around him. Though, you were met with empty sheets. You groggily, sat up, eyes adjusting to the dark room with only the yellow light from the street coming through. There was no sign of the man. You called out to him, yet was met with only silence. Shifting to your feet, you walked towards the kitchen. Still there was no sign of him there.

Rubbing your eyes, you grabbed your keys off the coffee table. Coming into the chilly air, you walked only a block to the restaurant. You knew Harry had a habit of coming in at ungodly hours when he was stressed, excusing it to having to bake fresh bread for the next day. Your eyes burned at the fluorescent lighting of the kitchen, hearing the dull volume of FleetWood Mac. Harry stood at the metal counter in the center of the kitchen. His hands covered in flour, as the white shirt he was wearing tighten around his biceps with each knead. “Harry what time is it?”

“Dunno, I got in around 3.” His eyes stayed on the dough. “What are you doing here? You were still snoring when I left.”

“Couldn’t sleep and I guess you couldn’t either.” You leaned against the cold tiled wall.

“Nope.”

“What’s got you up?” You crossed your arms over your chest.

He makes a face. “Well I wanted to make sure Joel closed properly.” He paused. “He did not. So I made sure all the dishes were cleaned, inventory was accounted for, and now I’m making the bread for today.” He turned to you with a sigh, his coming towards your body. “I swear I don’t think I could ever replace you.”

“Well I could have told you that. I’m the best you’ll ever get,” you teased, biting your lip.

“What time is you flight?” He asked, his eyes going back to the dough.

“Around 2.” You answered, your eyes coming to the ground.

“And then you’re off.” He moved the dough to large metal bowl, his hands now sticky with dough bits all over his hands. “To Paris. For pastries.” He walked over to the sink, scrubbing off the excess pieces from his hands.

“Harry,” you plea. You leave the wall, coming behind him. You wrap your arms around his waist, your cheek coming to his back.

“I’m allowed to be sad. I mean I’m happy for you but I’m still sad.” He continued to rinse his already clean hands. Harry and you stood there for a moment, just the two of you. You memorizing his skin and him doing the same.

“Is there anything I can do to cheer up up?” You offer with a cheeky grin trying to cut the sadness.

He chuckles, “didn’t you already cheer me up last night?”

“Well you’re still sad so clearly you need a bit more.”

He turns around coming to face you. He scoffs.“Baby I have things to do,” he pushes past towards some other kitchen station. “And Joel forgot to stock the olive oil bottles for the table. I swear this man.” His back is turned to you once again, completely in his own world.

You twist your lips to side completely ignoring Harry’s comment. You decide to lift your top over your head, completely exposing your chest to the cold air of the kitchen. Your nipples hardening as your breasts became littered with goosebumps. Coming closer to Harry you wrap your arms around him again. “This will only take a minute,” you say your tongue teasing his ear; your hips gently grinding against his butt.

Harry turns around, eyes widening at the site of your bare chest. Upon seeing them, he just wants to bury his head in them while sucking them while doing more. There was always more he wanted and often got frustrated by his own limitations. But he shakes his head. “You’re gonna get cold doing that,” he says his head coming low as he walked over to the opposite end of the kitchen. “Now where the hell is that olive oil.”

“Oh Harry come on. Please baby, I should have you as many times before I go. Don’t ya think?” You play with your hair while jutting our your breasts. You cross your legs in an attempt to ease the ache between your legs. Harry seems to not pay any attention towards you.

“I’ve found it!” He exclaims, going back to the original station.

“Harry,” you plead.

“Baby, I have to fix this disaster of a kitchen,” he explains yet it’s still not good enough for you.

Coming closer to him, you turned yourself over bending over the metal counter, feeling the cold metal on your skin. Your ass sticking out to interest him. “Hmmm,” you hummed, trying to grab his attention.

“Baby don’t do that,” he said his eyes scanning over you. His hands still full of bottles.

“Why?” You said, jutting out your lip slightly.

He put down the bottles coming closer to you. “Because I’m gonna suck those tits of yours and I don’t know how well Joel cleaned the table.” He smiled at you, his arms pulling you off the counter.

“Good point,” you laugh coming off the counter. Harry stands in front of you, only a few inches between you. You feel almost silly in front of him as his tall frame hovers over you. The sexual tension beginning to leave. You laugh almost to ease the awkwardness and Harry follows in suit. “Okay, well I’ll leave you to it.” You say, slipping away to grab your shirt.

Harry grabs your hand, catching you from leaving him completely. “Come here.” He pulled you in closer to him, pressing you against his chest. You took a deep breath, breathing in his scent. He smelled of rosemary and stale olive oil and felt warm against you. It was comforting and reminded you of his soft bedsheets and how it felt when you woke up in his arms. “I love you y/n,” he spoke.

“I love you, too.” You began to feel a warm feeling in your chest as you skin started to crave his. Wanting to feel every rough callus, every soft piece of skin, the way his lips felt on yours. All of it. You tilted your head upwards your lips looking for his. He met yours, allowing each other to melt into each other. Harry’s hands pressed you into him, allowing him to fully engulf you. His mouth opened slightly, allowing your tongue to slip through. He moaned at the arrival. Your hand came to his hair, your fingers lacing them through the dark threads.

Harry pulled away and smiled. “Okay we can either go to my office or go back to the bed. Though, I don’t know if I can make the block,” he chuckled, his lips attaching themselves to your neck.

“Hmm, I think one last rendezvous in the office is the perfect goodbye.”

“Perfect,” he repeated back. Harry in one swift motion, threw you over his shoulder. You out a giggle at the quickness of him. Harry walking towards the office, turn his head letting his teeth sink into the flesh of your thigh. You shrieked at the feeling of his teeth, knowing there would be a mark. He released his bite, settling you on his dark mahogany desk. Harry lowered himself to his knees. His face becoming level with your pussy, his finger itching to hook themselves into your waist band.

“You always go down on me. Shouldn’t I return the favor?” You bat your eyelashes at him.

“Baby, you’ve returned many favors and besides,” he raises himself. Leaning his mouth to your ear, “I much rather cum in that delicious pussy than your mouth.” You couldn’t help but blush. Harry came down back to knees, pulling your shorts down, hanging your legs off his shoulders. Harry attached himself at the sensitive area, starting in large broad movements with his tongue. Just to ease you in. You leaned your weight on your hands which anchored themselves behind you; throwing your head back. Once Harry felt your pussy become soaking wet from his salvia and your juices, his tongue make jagged quick flicks against your clit. The instant hits of sensitivity not only make your stomach suck in harshly but left you letting out shallow stammers.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck,” you breathed out in quick breaths. You could feel yourself climbing the mountain of pleasure, feeling the peak close by. “Harry I think I’m gonna cum soon!” You yelled, your legs spreading even wider. You expected Harry to pull away wanting to take you close to your edge, yet he didn’t. He stayed in the exact place. Suddenly, you felt the wave hit you. Your body flooding with complete pleasure, your legs caving back in. “Harry I’m cumming,” you moaned out.

Even as your body came down, Harry kept his mouth on you. His mouth lapping, every inch of you. He wanted to remember exactly how you tasted. He finally removed himself from you, his mouth shiny in the dim lighting. “I wanted to taste you. All of you.” He came closer you, only an inch between you. His face stayed on yours, while his fingers went back to your wet clit. You shuddered at the feeling of his finger. It rubbed in small circles. You looked in Harry’s eyes, they looked straight at you, fully concentrating on you. “I want you to turn around, letting me take you however I want.”

His hand turned your body around, pushing you down. You could feel your pussy beginning to ache for him again. You could hear Harry fiddling with his pants. You drew a breath inward, as you felt him push in. Harry gave an audible whimper feeling your warmth. Even though he was in the same place only a few hours prior, he still missed the feeling of you. Harry’s hand stayed on your hips, moving them in rhythm with his. Harry tossed his head back, his eyes closing, losing himself in the moment. One of his hands began to travel towards your core. Maneuvering so they had access to your clit. His fingers moved in a concentrated circle. Your body reacted with another steady climb of pleasure again. He moved his body forward. You could feel his clothed chest against your back. His hips began to move in fast movements. Knowing Harry, this meant he was close. Both of you climbing your own’s highs together. One of Harry’s hands came away from your skin only to be met with it again with a hard smack on your ass. Harry grunted, his movements becoming more aggressive. His hips smashing into yours. “Fuck baby, I’m gonna-” Harry strung out before moaning loudly. His hips slowly down, his heart racing. His forehead had a sheen of sweat layering it as beads of sweat rolled down his back. Harry pulled himself out of you, your body shocked at the lack of him. You turned around, seeing Harry trying to catch his breath. You pulled him into you, cupping his face and kissing him gently. His skin was hot and wet and his lips tasted of you and salt. “Did you?”

“Don’t worry about it.” You shook your head, eyes softening as Harry’s eyelids started to become heavy.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Should I finger you or something?” His eyes lit up, always wanting to please you.

“No, let’s just get back to bed.”

Harry hummed in agreement his body slumping into yours. It seemed his work would be left for Joel in the morning.

________________________________

Harry insisted on driving you. Even though he hated traffic and being away from the restaurant, he still insisted he was the one to see you off. He even paid for parking just so he could walk with you. “Do you have everything? Passport? Toothbrush?” He asked, handing you the bag from his shoulder.

“Yeah and besides I can always pick up a french toothbrush.” You say, smiling at him.

“Hey I hear those are completely different.” There was nice moment of silence between you. Each of you looking at each other. “I’m gonna miss you a lot.” You saw the water forming in his eyes. Harry hated crying in public. “Fuck, I told myself I was not going to cry.” You felt your own eyes beginning to swell.

“Hey, this isn’t the end.” You comforted, your finger coming to swipe his tear. Your hand came behind his head, pushing it towards you. You leaned your lips to his forehead. “I love you.” You whispered again. Harry only nodded.

“I love you, too.” You pulled away. Both of you taking a deep breath, before you grabbed each one of your bags. You gave a weak smile, offering a shy wave and Harry doing the same. “Bye.” You mouthed and him doing the same.

Harry watched you disappear in the crowd of people, slowly losing your figure till it all became a blur.

#harry #Harry Styles #styles #harry edward styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fic #harry x reader #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles x reader #harry x y/n #chef!harry

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unsaed · 1 month

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‎ ‎ ‎. . . ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ 🜲 ‎ ‎ ‎ ៸៸ ‎ ‎ ‎ [ 01. ] ‎ ‎ ‎ⵓ ‎ ‎ ‎hong jeyeol.

the line between jeyeol’s multiple lives is something of an unbeaten path. he rarely walks the boundaries, too afraid of what may be waiting. the capturing net? the spark of a shock collar? he doesn’t want to know — he doesn’t care to know. his shifty brown eyes (father’s; deep hostile pits of permanent regret, simmering grief) and his empty smile (mother’s; trained from birth, piercing fake laughter) is all the reminder he needs.

warnings: mention of suicidal thoughts and abuse. total word count: 1 493

TAPE ONE SUMMARY.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎CHORONG.

She talks about Jeyeol like one would a puppy. She seems quite sure he’d never abandon the people he loves, but her hands still quiver. When notified, she says it’s “just a quirk” and insists Jeyeol is doing fine before her own wellbeing. No one presses on the matter.

She is fond of him, which helps the creative process. They collaborate well when writing lyrics and teaming up for games. She appreciates his different perspectives in all standpoints: career-wise, life-wise, and viewpoint-wise. She admits she worries for him like a sister would, but she says he always has a trick hidden in his back pocket.

She says he is dachi’s soul personified. He makes sure to put together breakfast every morning. Sometimes it’s simply a toasted bagel and cream cheese or a ham and cheese sandwich, but Subject Csays she will gladly gobble down anything he “whips up.” He takes his time washing dishes, only asking for help when he’s particularly exhausted. Housework comes to him easily.

She describes him in peculiar ways. She says his eyes are like constellations, and his smile like light. She says he hates those parts about himself, but she tries to remind him every day that he is his own person.

His suicidal ideation is brought up at the end of the session. Evidence includes: notebook on nightstand, text messages, pill bottle with the label torn off. Subject C goes pale momentarily before resuming her previous attitude. She recalls the first time Jeyeol ever confided in her.

Two weeks after the final episode of Lucky Hour. They’re all alone in the dorm. Subjects S and E are either out late-night shopping or sleeping in the next room over — hazy recollection, refer to tapes 3 and 4. She sits with Jeyeol on the leather couch in the living room. It’s silent, save for the ticking of the clock and the laundry machine rumbling. Jeyeol’s head is on her shoulder.

“I’m gonna go to bed.”

She startles out of her half-lull. She thought he was asleep. “I didn’t know you were awake.”

He sits up to rubs his face and laughs. “Sorry. Was just hearing you breathe and getting tired.” There are bags under his eyes. She lifts her hand to trace the purple blemishes. Across his cheek, down his cheekbone, right along his jaw. She reaches the scar parallel to the edge of his mouth. He shrinks away from her touch.

He apologizes again. “I don’t like thinking about that scar.”

She frowns. “I wasn’t intending on bringing it up.”

She looks at it again. It’s so faint, it’s barely noticeable even without makeup on. Barely 1cm, follows his laugh lines, pale pink colour. Jagged. She gazes at his face through the darkness. It suits him.

Jeyeol doesn’t meet her eyes. He looks sheepish. He puffs air into his cheeks so the scar disappears.

Curiosity suddenly overtakes her, “. . .How did you get it?” She whispers.

“I knew you were gonna ask me anyway,” he subconsciously touches the pale mark, “I crashed into the cabinet at the bottom of my family home’s stairs. Pretty embarrassing when your whole family is over for dinner.”

“You don’t seem like the clumsy type, though?”

“You’re right. I’m not,” Jeyeol’s leg begins to bounce, “because I was pushed.”

At this moment, she chokes up. The quiver in her hands return. The story exits her lips like this: “His father — he did it. Jeyeol’s own father pushed him down the stairs. I tried to comfort him in the least pitiful fashion because, well, I knew him, and I know him now. He enjoys caring for people, but he hates being cared for. So I asked him why. He shrugged and said I certainly wasn’t cared for in my childhood, was I? He didn’t really mean it. But it still hurt, you know? And then I realized that was the first bit of negative emotions I’ve ever seen him show me that wasn’t scripted. Then a part of me fell apart.”

Subject C left the examination room more shaken than she was when she first came in. Alternate methods of communication are recommended.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎SEOYI.

She’s already a naturally down-to-earth and softhearted person. It’s no surprise she writes poems with her voice. When she speaks of Jeyeol, it’s like sparkles appear around her. The millions of sparkles represent the millions of times she’s thought of him: from afar, from close by, from millions of years ago when she was the atoms floating in space. If she is the moon, he is her sun. When he falls down, she will pick him up.

She says she looks for him in her dreams. She knows Jeyeol has nights of restlessness, but his remaining ability to sleep sends him into perilous nightmares. She reaches out to his flickering flame with a hand doused in gasoline.

She comments on his personality next. Spunky, offbeat, a little crazy — in a good way. She says his idol persona isn’t all that different from his real personality. Maybe he’s a little sassier on stage, a little more ruthless teeth-baring aimed towards paparazzi, but she enjoys seeing the seamless shifts between his ‘characters.’ She prides herself in keeping him afloat between performances, reciprocating the energy that he delivers to everyone.

She knows the most about his childhood. According to her, he came to her first with his “bleeding heart held in his hands.” During Lucky Hour, he hid in her room from 10pm–8am. It didn’t matter if the room barely fit two people, and it certainly didn’t matter if people were looking for him. He had a meltdown as she fed him thirty-day-old chocolate. She says he appreciated it nonetheless. That night formed an understanding between the two of them.

She says she can recognize his ills. When he begins to panic and cry she drags him to a quiet corner. She rubs his back and listens to his watery voice eventually come to a stop. These little pockets of bonding moments help her feel grounded.

She knows Jeyeol displays his affection in his own ways: housework, like previously mentioned, but help in the background as well. She says he helped Subject E with homework when E was still in college. She smiles when reminded of him and Subject C’s close companionship. When asked if she had a favourite memory of Jeyeol she shook her head. “Isn’t every memory fulfilling my dreams with my family worth remembering?”

Subject S left the examination room with a pep in her step. She seems to enjoy things that others perceive as uncomfortable.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎EUN.

Jeyeol might as well be her twin brother despite having a birthdate 5 years apart. They act identically, although Subject E is much more angry and forceful with her words. She talks about him like she’s talking about herself. She calls him “the other pea in her pod.”

She notices his eyes close when he shaves in the bathroom. Not only the bathroom, but every single mirror in the dorm. Every single mirror in the world? She exaggerates her expressions. His refusal to see his own face is evident. She says he’s fine with taking pictures because it’s all fake — just ones and zeros in a hellish digital mind scape, she quips — but being faced with reality affects him the most.

She also mentions his greatest fear. “Turning into somebody I wouldn’t want to hang around,” apparently. Aligns with past observations including childhood relationships and unwillingness to be taken care of. She says he’s afraid of what may happen if he loses himself to fame and glory. She shrugs it off. She says that fame is nothing but a leash, and you either let yourself be led or lead yourself. In her opinion, Jeyeol is doing a fine job leading himself in the right direction.

Upon asked if she knows about Jeyeol’s past issues she nods. She’s found that the best method of dealing with Jeyeol’s meltdowns is to acknowledge them in the present, leave them in the past. May stem from her own familial issues.

Most of all, Subject E and Jeyeol bond over fashion. Studies show they agree on aesthetics 96% of the time. It’s always a battle for clothes during airport appearances, and she says she treats it like a game every single time. Jeyeol may not want to play the game, but he indulges in her antics.

She moves on to the downsides of being his roommate in their newest living arrangement. He’s not a dirty person, but he talks in his sleep. When local concerts end and fatigue overwhelms her, Jeyeol will keep her up. Even though she complains she has never brought it up with him before. She says she’d rather listen to him than participate in Subject C’s late-night TikTok dances. She expresses empathy for Subject S.

Subject E leaves the examination room neutrally. She seems intrigued by the examination process.

#fictional idol community #fictional idol oc #fictional kpop idol #idol oc #idolverse #kpop oc #fake kpop group #‎ ‎ 𓏸 .𖥔˚⠀ ♩ ⁺ ‎ ‎ ‎ ┄ ‎ ⌦ ‎ ‎writing.

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sashi-ya · 2 years

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4k raffle price for: @jin-supremacy01 thank so much for your participation! I hope you enjoy love!! 💖🌻 tw. nothing really. sweetest sfw ever. :3 wc. 2.2k masterlist.

Run, run throw the sunflowers field. run, and take his hand.

The waraji hitting against the ground were making him uncomfortable, so he took them off. His ashy blonde hair changes to orange with the sunset lights, his silly laughter echoes through a yellow immensity.

You reach his finger; he pulls you closer. “We don’t have these in the soul society, that’s why I stayed in the living world” he lies, of course he does.

“We don’t have you there either” you smile back, eyes fixed on his silver ones.

Kisuke pouts, he is way too intelligent to understand exactly what you were saying. Both being Shinigami, loving each other so much, but living in different realities was something that you didn’t really like. At all.

“I told you, (Name)-san. I can’t go back” he sighs. But… is Kisuke really that intelligent, after all? Were you really asking him to go back to the Seireitei, or, were you asking for something different…?

The scientist -now a “handsome, sexy young shop keeper”- pulls you closer to his chest as he stops in the middle of the sunflowers. Nuzzling on his pale exposed chest, you rest for a bit, inhaling his unique skin scent.

Allowing his arms and reiatsu to embrace, you enjoy the last hours of your free day outside the Gotei 13 facilities. He notices your sorrow, that’s the same as his.

“I’m sorry…” he mumbles, with his chin over the crown of your head, tracing circles over your back with his palm. You sometimes feel Benihime grazing your side, but you know he is just holding it in his cane form.

“It’s ok… you brought me here because you know how much I like sunflowers. Thank you” you tell him, muzzled on his pecs. You play with the hem of his musk green coloured clothes, inhaling his scent, feeling the warmth of his flesh against your lips.

Kisuke knows you aren’t happy, he really knows. He takes his hat off, and places it on your head. “Keep it. You will bring it to me whenever you come back. It’s gonna be soon, hey!” he tries to make it better for you.

You are gonna be busy with missions while serving at the Seireitei so it’s gonna be hard -again- to go back to sleep alone in your home at the barracks.

“You sure I can take it with me?” you mumble, looking up at him with puppy eyes and pouty lips.

“Yes, and stop making that face or else I will have to kidnap you and make you my employee. You wanna sell candy all day?” he says, with pain in those last words.

You blink, why is he sad if you were to give everything away just to be with him, your Shinigami career, your zanpakuto even… “I wish…” you whisper, almost inaudibly, enough for him to imagine what you said.

Urahara meditates for a few seconds looking at how you hide under the wings of his bucket hat, and, you notice in his reaction that he has finally come up to a conclusion.

What could it be?

He walks with you in between the flowers that often look at the sun become down as the last rays of it had abandoned the day. Both sit on the back seats of his van and from there you take your time to observe the moon shining its light over the fields.

The rustling sound of the sleeping sunflowers lulls you. You place your head on his shoulder while Kisuke rounds you with his dark green haori as the night becomes a little chilly.

He plays with your hair until you finally fall asleep. The ex-captain looks at your peaceful countenance with longing. He doesn’t even know by now how old he is, but he knows he had been alive for the longest time, and, he is sure that he has never seen someone as beautiful as you.

“Is it time already? Should I-…” he whispers, stopping himself from keep talking as you snuggle closer to his body.

“mhgfh Kisuke- i- go take a bath” you mumble in your sleep, causing the shop owner to bite his lips not to laugh like an idiot.

“You give me orders even while sleeping…beautiful woman” He kisses your head and closes the door of the van, tonight you will be sleeping there…

As the first sunrays hit the field, and the flowers look straight up to the sun for energy, you both open your eyes. Your pager announces you it’s time to come back to the Soul Society, and, even if you don’t want to you simply have to.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, before touching you with the tip of his cane.

“My gigai is hungry, not me” you mumble, while rubbing an eye to shake off the sleepiness. You need to leave the fake body behind before passing the senkaimon, and so Kisuke will help you do so.

After your soul takes the body form, and the gigai fells on his arms, you look at it with jealousy. What would you give to still feel his touch on that skin.

“Sure you aren’t hungry?” he asks again, just to make sure you have enough spiritual pressure.

You nod, the shihakusho you are used to love now feels like some kind of punishment. Why… come home, please…

The delicate hands of the scientist round your waist, pulling you closer to him, as behind you the world penetration gate opens. Both are surrounded by a purest light. It’s so bright, that even the sunflowers turn to it. Or maybe they just wanted to see the sweet depiction of love in between two eternal souls.

A kiss on your lips, a kiss on your nose. A kiss on his forehead as you stand in tippy toes.

“I don’t wanna go back” you protest, with your forehead pressed against his. But your pager keeps ringing. Your captain keeps calling you, he wants you there. Kurotsuchi Taicho, or maybe Akon. Whatever the case it is, you must go.

“Go now. I promise you I will have something for you when you come back” Kisuke smiles, putting his hat back on your head. “And I told you, I want you to keep it until you came back, ok?”

You try to stop your lips from trembling, every time you have to come back it’s the same, but he has never given you his stripped bucket hat.

“uhum. uhum.” you nod repeatedly, because there is nothing you could say without bursting into tears. And after a sweet last kiss you finally turn around to pass the door.

His fingers softly let go of your wrist, one by one. Kisuke is making sure you are able to feel his spiritual pressure up until the last moment.

The black butterfly that gets out, sounds like a jingle bell, and before the light totally engulfs you he smiles and mouths “I love you, please come back”

You count the days. It’s not a lot, but it’s not just a week. You fulfil your investigation duties with utmost care, helping the Shinigami Research and Development Institute to keep the Seireitei working and safe. But, your heart is aching. You miss Kisuke more than anything.

“What is it, (Name)?” your lieutenant Akon, asks. “Noth-nothing” you sigh, trying not to throw a certain liquid that your hands hold.

He frowns, and then lets a little scoff scape his lips. “Go ahead, I know you are missing Urahara-san. I don’t mind finishing what you are doing, it’s not gonna change anything if you come or not tomorrow. Go, I will excuse you with Captain Kurotsuchi”

You pout, sniffle, and hug him. He had become such a big man after all these years; you remember him with pure love as the tiny kid under Mayuri’s lab coat following him everywhere.

“THANK YOU SO MUCH VICE CAPTAIN!” you chime, making the always serious man to smile warmly.

“Now go, go! Kurotsuchi Taicho is about to come with little Nemuri”

You hang your coat and quickly put everything you were using in place. And right before you leave, Akon has something else to say to you.

“Oi, (Name)… come and visit us some time, ok?” he says, confusing you to no extent. What is he talking about?

“Akon-san, what do you mean? I’m gonna be ok! I’ll be back in some days!”

You run towards the streets of the Gotei 13 facilities with happiness in your heart, you are gonna see your lover earlier and you wanna make sure you had everything ready so you go as fast as possible.

You hesitate to call him and announce you are getting there one day earlier, but you resolve not doing it just to surprise him… “He told me he will give me a surprise when I get there, but, I’m going to surprise him too!”

As soon as you finish packing some basic stuff, since your gigai’s clothes are all at the world of the living, you cross the senkaimon through the dangai again. (This time running from the Kōtotsu, wondering if Mayuri knew you were scaping one day earlier and had decided to make it difficult to you)

Before you arrive Kisuke’s shop and home, you fix the hat on your head. He told you that whenever you came back you should give it back to him, but the truth is that is gonna be difficult to, since you have slept with it every single day you weren’t with him.

Sneaking on the back, concealing your spiritual pressure, you take a look at the little window to see him speaking to Tessai. You smirk with a naughty attitude, you wonder what they were discussing, probably something about the shop.

However, that’s not exactly what you listen…

“Urahara-san, you have to be brave and tell her” his loyal companion says, serving him a cup of tea.

“It’s not about bravery, Tessai-san. It’s about… her. I’m afraid she is gonna suffer” Kisuke mumbles, scratching his dishevelled hair and his a week of no shave face.

You swallow… if there is something that he needs to be brave to tell you that will potentially harm you that means is something bad. “He wants to leave me…” you murmur, trying not to cry even if a tear is already scaping your eye.

You can’t keep listening, and, instead you leave the hat over the window sill right before running away.

You run, fast in between the people. In any case they won’t see you, you are still a soul with no real body. The gusts your shihakusho creates alerts the citizens, but they simply think it’s just wind that bring them, somehow, sorrow.

And you run that much that you get to the last place you’ve been happy; the sunflowers fields of Karakura city. “Hi… sweet flowers, you know? He doesn’t love me, but I do love him… just like you all love the Sun”

“What are you saying, (Name)-san? Do you really think I don’t love you?” a soft voice makes your muscles suddenly stiffen up. “Do you really think that?” he asks, coming closer.

You can’t look at him. He knows, of course he knows you were there. He can sense you, there is only so much you can do to hide your reiatsu from him.

“Tell me, (Name)-san. Do you really think that?” he repeats, at your back, never coming closer to touch you. And it hurts, somehow you want his touch, you need it.

“Kisuke… I- I heard you talking about it… you are gonna leave me, right?” you ask, with your eyes fixed on the sunset ahead. Just like every time you two say goodbye, the golden hour caressing your cheeks and the yellow petals of countless sunflowers.

You notice he is not saying anything, nor even breathing. You are getting annoyed, and so, impulsed by your own heart you turn around…

“Marry me?” he asks, looking like a cute little puppy, blushed and kneeling on the ground with a weird looking ring on his hand.

You blink, and gawk. What… the hell?

“I’m sorry if this makes you suffer… I just- I just don’t want you to leave the courts if you don’t want to. I- I’m gonna go back to the Seireitei if that is what it takes to be with you… so, would you marry me, (Name)-san?”

You take your hands to your face, that was what he wanted?! Suffering?? You just want to be with him… and now you understand Akon’s words… you are staying here, in this new world, just with and for him.

“Of course I wanna marry you, Kisuke!!!” ~

#urahara kisuke x reader #urahara x reader #bleach x you #bleach x reader #bleach x y/n #bleach #bleach fanfic #urahara x you #kisuke x you #kisuke x reader #sashi ya

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mercy-burning · 3 years

Text

Your Favorite — Part 3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: As the summer comes to a close, Spencer and Y/N start feeling a shift in their relationship. Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Adults w/ age gap, thigh riding, exhibitionism, oral sex (male receiving), penetrative/unprotected sex, breeding kink, one line of daddy kink, Word Count: 4.3k exactly, love how that turned out lol

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | MASTERLIST

NOTE: Thank you all for sticking with me through this long wait, I feel so bad for having to keep putting it off. But I’m very proud of where this ended up, and I’m so glad you’ve all been so excited about it! I had so much fun writing this story, so again, thank you very much for reading and indulging me in this weird fantasy lolol ❤ Love you guys! And, as always, thank you to the lovely Em ( @boldlyvoid ) for being my beta for this series! Your feedback and support has been a big help from the start, ILY

———

AUGUST 12th

"I don't wanna hear a single word, understand?"

Not like I have a choice; As soon as the harsh whisper leaves Spencer's mouth, his hand is covering my own and my back is being pressed up against the wall of the storage closet.

But that's all he does. I wait for him to make a move, but instead he insists on being a tease.

"What? You've been trying to get my attention all night, and now that you have it, you're not gonna do anything with it?"

"I want you to do it for me," I mumble into his hand.

He shoves me harder into the wall and slots his knee in between my legs, spreading them apart and making me sigh.

"You wanted it so bad... So take it..."

Watching the amusement dance through his features as I grind down on his leg and whine into his mouth only excites me more, right next to the knowledge that downstairs the house is congested with people visiting to celebrate my mom's new promotion at work.

Needless to say, it doesn't take me very long to start feeling my stomach tense. My hips are wild as they roll over his leg, whines spewing from my mouth and into his hand. I look up into his eyes, doing my best to show him how much I could never grow tired of this, and he returns the favor by lifting his leg higher and giving me more friction.

In no time at all, I'm shuddering against him, feeling his hand press harder into my mouth to muffle the high-pitched whines that I can't help but expel.

"Nice and quick... Good girl..." Spencer muses, slowly peeling himself away from me. "You're really looking forward to being spoiled later, aren't you..."

The grin that spreads over my face is unwavering. "Definitely. Knowing Mom, she'll be passed out cold in like an hour."

I know I'm the one who brought her up, but it still stings a little when Spencer smiles fondly. "Yeah, she's a lightweight alright... You sure you can handle all this time without me until then?"

Despite the butterflies I get when he says it, mischievous and downright delectable, his hands reach out to grab my waist and pull me closer to him, I roll my eyes. "You underestimate me."

He studies my face for a moment, a pretty smile flashing before me in the dim light before he kisses my cheek. "Sure."

And when he leaves, I wait.

Minutes later, my skin still burns from his touch.

———

The moment my eyes open the next morning, it all comes back in flashes.

His lips are on my skin, travelling lower and lower...

His hands trail all over my body, featherlight in a way that leaves me with goosebumps.

His tongue starts slow, taking its time to taste me and savor every precious second.

His voice is like the sweetest prayer, whispering praises that leave my head dizzy and my heart pounding.

His lips languidly open and close around the most sensitive parts of my body, in tandem with that sweet, magnificent tongue as each action pulls sighs from the very depths of my soul.

His hands reach up and tangle with mine as he makes me come on his tongue, over and over again until I'm practically numb and the lull of sleep drags me under.

His hands now ghost over my bare skin, along my sides and down to my waist. I hum happily and push back against him when I feel it.

He's hard.

"How long before you think she wakes up?" he whispers in my ear.

"Not long... Maybe we... shouldn't risk i—"

The words fall off a cliff, never to be seen again when he slowly enters me, gripping my leg and forcing it over his own. "I'll be quick."

I can tell, though, that he doesn't want to be. It's present in the way he enters me, over and over with motions that feel rather stunted and definitely too rushed.

"Baby, no," I whine, reaching behind me to hold his hips still with one hand. "Fuck me slow... Don't rush..."

"But... Your mom..."

"Please..."

Spencer sighs, though not from exasperation. No, his breath is long and teeming with relief, hands gently roaming over the entirety of my body as his hips move slower. He's taking his time, relishing every second and feeling me gradually get more slick at his undoing.

His lips are on my neck, not providing marks to match the ones hidden on the inside of my thighs and my chest, but merely resting there. He kisses me in between gentle thrusts, letting out small whimpers of his own when I clench tightly around him.

This...

This is different.

We've had slow morning sex before, but never like this. Somehow, I find myself drifting, like I'm being carried away by his current. There's nothing but me, Spencer, and our breathing... Our bodies, our air, our souls...

This is what I imagine making love feels like.

Which is why I barely notice when it slips from my mouth— Three words that should feel more daunting due to the weight they hold and the way they ultimately change everything. And yet, whispering “I love you,” in a nearly breathless string of syllables feels incredibly natural. It’s more sincere than anything I think I’ve ever told him, so much so that I don’t even think about what it will mean in the long-run. Instead I let it fall from my lips again and again without regret or consequence.

He doesn't stop, either. Spencer continues to fuck me softly, like it's all he knows how to do. In fact, my confession only seems to make him relax more.

And that's what finally pushes me over the edge.

His name escapes my mouth in a whisper that sounds more like a plea not to leave, and he holds me closer to him. Our bodies are flush together, my back resting perfectly against his chest as he takes a few final thrusts and empties himself inside of me.

If we stayed like that forever, I could die happy.

And actually, that wouldn't be far from the truth, given that if we did stay here forever, my mom would certainly find us and kill us.

The thought makes me sigh.

"You have to leave..."

"I know..."

Spencer pulls me closer, squeezing me tight and giving me a long, bold kiss on the jaw before he rips himself away and takes my heart with him.

AUGUST 18th

Things are significantly different now.

After the morning I let slip that I love him, Spencer and I had been intimate once. We found ourselves alone while Mom was at the grocery store and instinctually came together.

It was quick, and it was fast and rough, and while it obviously felt good, something was off. But I knew it wasn't a physical problem. Like I said, it felt as good as any other time we'd been together, but it just wasn't right.

I hate it.

It hasn't even been a week since then, and I miss him. I miss our dynamic, and I miss the way I used to feel when he touched me.

So I stalk into the office and lean against the doorframe, watching Spencer as he goes through a large pile of paperwork. His hands and his eyes are moving at near light-speed, and the way he concentrates almost makes me feel bad for my intrusion—Honestly, I could have looked at him all damn day.

But there's a bigger plan in mind.

"What'cha up to?"

He looks up and greets me with a smile. "School starts in a few weeks. I'm just trying to get my coursework prepared."

"Oh... You... mind if I keep you company?"

"Not at all."

It's an innocent enough exchange, though I'm hoping I can change that. Mom doesn't get off work for another few hours, so it gives me ample time to do what I have planned.

I walk over and nudge his leg with my knee, and he lets me in. I climb on his lap, and after giving me a brief kiss on the cheek he returns to going through his paperwork.

My face turns and I nestle it into his neck. He hums softly when I kiss the skin under his jaw, once, and then twice, and then over and over in quick succession.

I can feel him smile. "What are you up to, princess?"

Hearing the nickname return in earnest makes me smile. I nip softly at his neck and run my tongue along it. "Mmm, trouble."

"Sounds like you," he mutters through a sultry sigh once I start going lower, kissing the top of his shoulder.

I slide my hands up the front of his chest and gently undo the top button, giving me access to more skin. "You love it when I make trouble..."

"Hmm, I'm not sure about that."

I slide off his lap then, crouching between his legs and looking up at him with a smile. "Really?"

All he does is look down at me, his pupils growing bigger by the second. So I continue my venture, sliding my hands up the insides of his legs until I reach the belt. "So you don't love when I do this?"

Spencer sighs, helping me by lifting his hips a little and letting me slide down layers of fabric until his dick is right in front of me.

I don't waste any time, taking him in my hand and bringing him to my mouth. He's still not entirely hard yet, but I don't mind at all. In fact, I let out a happy sigh just before I press kiss after kiss along the entire length of him. From base to tip, I take my time kissing and licking along the salty skin and giving him my full attention. I pull back and admire him, I smile, I kiss and I lick and I squeeze him with my hand... And when he's finally nice and hard, I take the head of his cock in my mouth and suck gently.

"Y/N..."

I hum around him, sinking further down until he hits the back of my throat, and then I come back up and repeat. It's slow. Maybe torturous even, but really I don't mean it to be.

Thankfully Spencer seems to be happy with my speed and technique; His eyes are on the verge of closing and his chest is heaving slowly, fingers gently caressing the sides of my face as I go down on him.

It's this same slow, steadying pace we'd taken before, and it's exactly what we needed.

I can feel his touch on my face, burning into my skin and marking me for all eternity. Likewise, the thick, throbbing weight of his cock sliding over my tongue and down my throat feels just like home— Like it's right where we're meant to be.

Once again, we fit together perfectly.

This epiphany sets a fire deep in the pits of my stomach, and just like that our spark is back again.

I look up and catch his eye, and he lets me keep it, forcing himself to keep his eyelids open to watch me. My pace remains consistent and slow, and and he brings both of his hands under my chin. The way he holds my face is so gentle, so loving and sensual that I nearly burst with tears at the sentiment alone, and it doesn't take long for him to start letting go.

He stutters my name when he comes, still using the pads of his nimble fingers to caress my throat. I take in and swallow each rope of cum until it's gone, and even then I keep him in my mouth, gently bobbing my head up and down just for the sake of feeling him inside me somehow.

But then he lifts me off of him and his dick falls limp in his lap. I sigh and lean down, kissing it a few times before just resting my head in his lap as he strokes my hair.

"You're right," Spencer says after a few moments.

"About what?"

"I do love when you make trouble."

We laugh, and I lift my head to look up at him.

"I know... It's your favorite."

"That it is, princess."

AUGUST 26th

I wish more than anything that this orientation would just end. My left foot is anxiously tapping the cool white tile of the floor as I wait to be next in line to grab my paperwork and get on my way— To home for what I'm sure will be a long weekend trying to find free minutes to steal with Spencer.

In another life it might have gotten tedious and painful sneaking around for so long, but I found it excited me. Sure, my feelings for Spencer were growing at an exponential rate, but ever since I visited him in our home office, we seemed to be getting back our groove— With an added flair I might add...

Each time we were together was more intense than the last. His hands got more possessive, his kisses got deeper and more passionate, and the way he looked at me?

I could swear I felt him falling just as deep as I was.

The smile it all brought to my face in that moment fell a little short when they called me next in line, and I fell into a joyful step forward to collect my things.

When I get home, though, things aren't as joyful.

The first thing I notice is that Spencer's car isn't in the driveway or even on the street. He's usually here on weekends, so I wonder if he's out for something, or even out with my mom on a lunch date or something.

I try not to think about that thought too much and step inside, hoping to at least enjoy the silence for a little while, lest they really are out together.

I think I'm out of the woods when I hear the television, a laugh track of some kind, but then it turns into the Friends theme blaring through the speakers, and my heart nearly falls into the pit of my stomach.

There's only one reason Mom would be watching Friends. She swears up and down that she hates it, but it always ends up on TV when there's one specific thing she's going through, because "Hearing them complain about their stupid problems make me feel better about my own!"

Her own problem being a breakup.

For a moment I wonder if maybe Spencer had told her about us. Or maybe she found something somehow that would give us away. I make my way slowly through the space until I reach the living room, my brain making up every possible horrendous outcome— Not even to prepare for the blow, because I know that absolutely nothing could prepare me for the wrath of my mother in any situation... I simply can't help myself from feeling guilty and heartbroken as my stomach churns and my heart beats so loud I can barely hear the TV anymore.

When I come into her view, Mom freezes and lets out a large breath of shaky air. The small tub of ice cream in her hands shakes just as much, and I can tell she's trying her hardest not to burst into tears.

I've never seen her this upset before. Normally it's just anger and annoyance, but this time she looks utterly broken.

"M—Mom?" I stutter, even though she probably can't even hear what I'm saying over the TV. I still don't know if she knows about my involvement with Spencer, but I feel like she'd be more angry with me than sad, so I figure it's safe to come closer.

The moment I take a step forward, she sets the ice cream on the floor and opens her arms to me, a choked sob forcing its way out. It almost makes me cry, just seeing her this heartbroken, and in an instant I'm running to her and snuggling into her side as she hugs me.

"What happened?" I will myself to ask, even though I still have no idea what it means for me. Maybe that's selfish, but if he's taking himself out of Mom's life, surely that has to mean he's removing himself from mine as well, right? And if he's just leaving without saying anything... God, that would ruin me, too.

Still, I wait to hear what Mom will say.

"He broke up with me," is all she says, through a long and tired sigh. She mutes the TV and then holds me tighter. I can feel that there's pure sadness controlling her every movement, and it crushes me.

"Why?"

"I don't know, he just... He said he didn't love me, and he wasn't feeling it anymore."

"That's all?"

"Uh huh... It was so sudden, too, like... I thought we were really getting along, and I just... I don't understand how he couldn't feel it... I felt all of it, and he just... He felt nothing. How could he feel nothing?"

I really don't know what to say anymore... It seems to me like Spencer really told her the truth and ended their relationship because he didn't feel anything for her anymore, but... I always knew he had to have felt something... I guess I just didn't realize someone could fall out of it so quickly.

The guilt overwhelms me then, when it dawns on me that I made him fall out of it so fast. I was there, taking up small moments of his time until, eventually, I'd taken up so much of it that it wasn't just his time I was stealing, but also his love. His fire, and his passion... Month by month, day by day, I was draining the love he had for my mom and distilling it to meet my own desires.

And now, here I am, in my mothers arms as she weeps over a man she truly loved, all because he and I were selfish and treasonous.

If Spencer decides he still wants to be with me after this, I really don't know if I could do it. Even after all this time... After all this trouble and guilt and glorious treason...

He could never really be mine.

———

Y/N,

I knew this day would come from the moment I met you. Of course, I didn't know how far my feelings would take me, but in the end I knew I would one day have to leave you and your mother behind.

Day by day my feelings for you grew stronger, and it wasn't until you told me you loved me that August Thirteenth that I realized I loved you, too. What we had was always dangerous, but by then my heart was focused solely on you, and I could feel your mother slipping from my grasp.

I pretended for as long as I could, but now you've taken up so much space in my brain that when Eve pulled me near, I almost sighed out your name instead. I knew then that no longer could I "keep up appearances," as I often like to tell you.

Maybe one day you and I can find our way back to each other, but for now, I think it's for the very best that we go our separate ways.

In my wildest dreams I will think of you fondly, and I can only hope that you might do the same.

Always Yours, Spencer

JUNE 19th, SEVEN YEARS LATER

There are so many things I'm thinking about when I come home tonight.

One: I'm a little tipsy and completely fucked out, which reminds me of that night I came home in the exact same state, only to find my mom's old boyfriend, Spencer, unable to sleep and to stop staring at my bare legs. The memory brings a smile to my face.

Two: My feet fucking hurt and I want to get these goddamned shoes off.

Three: The ghost of Spencer's smile when he saw me for the first time in seven years burns in the back of my mind, right next to the ghost of his hands caressing my skin like it had been the first time.

Four: How am I going to spend the rest of the summer back in town knowing what it feels like to have fucked him at all without an ounce of guilt attached to it?

Five: Am I going to tell my mom that I slept with her ex-boyfriend tonight?

Six: Fuck, I'm hungry...

My heels come off as soon as I step through the door.

The light is on, and I can hear Mom laughing in the kitchen with Adam from far away, which brings a fond smile to my face. I'm glad that she's finally happy, with someone who doesn't make me want to fall to my knees, thank you very much.

And truthfully, if I hadn't ran into Spencer at all tonight, I'm not sure I ever would have thought about that whole situation again— It was fucked up, he ended up leaving both of us, and Mom was so deeply devastated after their breakup that I didn't have the heart to tell her I missed him too. I just buried it deep down and tried to move on right alongside her, eventually erasing his memory from my mind, body, and soul.

Well, almost.

There were days, obviously, where his letter hummed inside my pillowcase where he left it, whether I brought it to college or kept it at home, or it sat soundly in my new apartment. His words were always there, spilling into my dreams and dancing with me through our memories; tangled tongues and limbs, wild nights and passionate mornings...

I'd wake up feeling hot to the touch and missing him completely.

Thankfully those days were few and far in between, and for a while I'd stopped thinking of him altogether.

But of course, it turns out that Spencer Reid is in fact, pretty damn inevitable.

That bar downtown was packed, so it was a wonder I'd even ran into him of all people in the first place. What he was doing there I didn't know. And neither do I now, because from the moment we laid eyes on each other, it was this constant state of shell-shock and fire, nothing else. He asked briefly about Mom, I told him she'd been married for four years, and then he joked about how he was surprised I hadn't tried to steal him from her.

Naturally, with that ever so playful look in his eye practically taunting me, I played to his joke and responded with a sultry smile, "The only one I ever wanted to steal was you, Doctor..."

The rest wasn't exactly a blur, but all I'm going to say is that we spent the rest of our time together at his apartment, "catching up on lost time"... And as much as I'd grown out of the submissive role sexually over the years, I found myself crawling back, submitting to him like I'd done it a million times over. And, really, I might as well have.

It's like we'd never stopped.

That being said, I declined his offer to stay the night and told him to give me a call some time before I left to go back to Seattle. Though, not without giving him a thousand goodbye kisses that were rather counterproductive.

Thinking about it makes my cheeks burn hot, though thankfully it's summer, and Mom won't have to question it. Though, if she does, I suppose I could keep it short and sweet and tell her the truth at the very least: that I met up with an old friend who showed me a good time.

"Hey'a, Sweetpea," she greets with a bright wave. She and Adam are obviously a little tipsy, more than me by the looks of it, but I pay it no mind. "How was you're night?"

"Great! Went to a few bars downtown, met up with some friends..."

"Oh, good, well we're glad you got back safe."

I snag a bottle of water and an apple from the fridge, then turn back around to see Mom and Adam snuggled in, sharing a smile that would make even the happiest person on the planet sick to their stomach.

Oddly enough, it reminds me of back then, when she was with Spencer, happier than ever and completely oblivious to what was going on in her daughter's life.

The thought makes my stomach flutter, taking me back to earlier in the night when he had his hands tangled in my hair and his mouth attached to my skin, spewing filthy words and praises that had me begging for more...

"I missed you, princess," he whispers, holding himself deep inside me. His fingers brush the matted hair from my face, revealing more of my saccharine smile and eyes that swim with mischief.

"I missed you too," I whine, reaching out and grabbing handfuls of his ass, shoving him even farther inside me and wrapping my legs around him tighter. "...Daddy..."

Spencer loses all semblance of cool, pulling back and slamming into me with full force. I—

"Y/N?"

I blink away his memory, reminding myself of where I am and what I'm doing, finding Mom looking at me with a curious gleam in her eye.

"What are you thinking about?"

With a small smile, I nod in her direction. "Oh, uh... You'll never believe who I ran into tonight."

———

PERMANENT TAGLIST (tags not working are struck out): @elldell1204 @muffin-cup @calm-and-doctor @slutforthegubes @rainsong01 @yourmisosoup @liveloudwriteloud @reidsconverse @la-vie-en-amour1 @edgycowboy666 @averyhotchner @centiaaa @lizziechaseee @coffeeandendlesswords @usuck @spenxerslut @ssacalumsg0lden @emilyprentisslittlewhore @takeyourleap-of-faith @reidyoulikeabook @spencerreid9 @b-a-utiful @jareauswifey @flipperpenguins @pansexualthing @donald4spiderman @awesomebooklover17 @shemarmooresfedora @izraahh1 @bakugouswh0r3 @singularityjc @xoxospencerreid @thatsonezesty13 @big-galaxy-chaos @mggskneescrews @youabitchhhh @spencersjello @moonlight-2-6 @starrylang @foreveryoungxx3 @spencerreidscoffeecup @morganwilliams @emilyprsntiss @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @gubswh0re @mrsobrien888 @loveeee2134 @umbreonwolfy @ayla-1605

If you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist, feel free to message me or leave a comment and I’ll get on it right away!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut

519 notes · View notes

babygirlwolverine · 3 years

Text

The 5 Senses of Longing

This fic is a gift for @stanforderadean as part of my gift exchange celebration!

Also posted on ao3.

Word Count: 7,463 (Continued under the Read More)

Dean rapped his knuckles on the wood door, pausing for a second before nudging it open with his shoulder. Cas was lying on the bed in his room, propped up against the headboard with a book in his lap, and Dean was once again hit with the startling recollection that Cas actually needed to sleep now that he didn’t have his Grace. Somehow it was endearing to see Cas this way; curled up under the covers and rubbing sleep from his eyes.

But wasn't that the point of this? The whole reason Dean had come knocking on Cas' door in the first place. Because Cas had been without his powers for months now, and also because they were in a lull with finding Metatron and killing Abbadon. What they needed was a little break. And even though they were dealing with more shit than ever before, Dean yearned to slow things down around them for just a couple of days to show Cas some of the good things about being human.

Dean had been the one to suggest the idea casually to Sam, and with Ezekiel healing him slowly, it was best for Sam to stay at the Bunker and rest. Which gave Dean the perfect opportunity. Now the only thing to do was to bring the idea to Cas.

“Hey, buddy,” Dean said, hovering in the doorway. “Mind if I come in?”

Cas smiled, lowering his book and closing it with a quiet thump. “Not at all,” he said, gesturing for Dean to enter the room. “Did something happen?” he asked, smile shifting into something more alert as he pushed himself further up in the bed.

“No, no, nothing happened,” Dean quickly reassured, taking a couple steps closer before hesitating at the foot of the bed. Should he sit on the bed? Should he pull up a chair? Should he just stand there? Why was he overthinking this? God, he really needed to get these bubbling feelings under control before he opened his mouth and said something he shouldn’t. “I was uh. Actually wondering if you were busy?”

Cas blinked a couple times, tilting his head and squinting up at Dean in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I thought we could go on a little road trip. Just you and me for a couple of days. Wanted to show you a few things now that you’re sorta human,” Dean said.

“A road trip? Don’t we do that all the time?” Cas asked.

Dean grinned, nudging Cas’ leg with his knee as he plopped himself down on the edge of the bed. “Well, yeah. But this isn’t gonna be a road trip for a case. There’s a couple of spots around here that you’ve got to experience. Sights and smells you haven’t seen yet. Oh, and the best stack of pancakes you’ll ever eat. You’ve just gotta trust me.”

Something soft and affectionate sparked through Cas’ eyes before he nodded. “Best pancakes I’ll ever eat? Is that so?” he teased.

All the nerves that had been lurching in Dean’s stomach settled all at once, and he shoved at Cas’ leg again. Yeah. This he could do. Their usual playful antics that he enjoyed so much. He didn’t need to think about that little spark that was twining around his heart at the way Cas had just smiled at him.

“Just you wait. Now that you’ve got taste buds, I’m gonna make you try every single food I can get my hands on. I will find every single thing you enjoy eating, mark my words,” Dean said lightly, hauling himself up from the bed. “Twenty minutes. Get your ass moving and meet me at the car.”

Cas laughed, free and happy, and Dean’s heart lurched in his chest. Oh, he was going to do everything he could over the next two days just to hear that sound again.

Dean had just reached the door when Cas called out to him.

“Hey, Dean?”

Dean turned, hand on the doorknob as he looked back at Cas. “Yeah?”

“Thank you,” Cas said, smiling so warmly that it made Dean feel momentarily weak in the knees. Oh God. If Cas kept smiling at him like that, Dean was going to do something he regretted, like kiss Cas stupid until he could feel that smile against his own lips.

“Yeah, of course. Twenty minutes. Don’t be late,” Dean said, flashing Cas a quick smile before bolting from the room; the door snapping shut behind him as he escaped to the safety of his own room.

Pressing his back into his bedroom door, Dean heaved in a deep breath; closing his eyes and scrubbing his hands over his face. This idea was either the best thing he’d ever come up with... or it was going to be the death of him. Maybe he’d be able to get over this stupid fluttering feeling in his chest. Or maybe, just maybe, that feeling was going to explode until it consumed him whole.

"Where are we going first?" Cas asked, sliding into the passenger seat exactly nineteen minutes later.

A minute early, Dean noted. Was that deliberate? Was it accidental? Dean couldn't possibly be overthinking one teeny tiny little minute, could he?

"Pancakes, obviously. Unless you're suddenly going to turn your nose up at chocolate," Dean said, darting his eyes over to Cas as they pulled out of the Bunker onto the main dirt road winding through the woods.

"Chocolate?" Cas repeated, turning in his seat until he'd angled his body towards Dean. The smile that crept across his lips was so dazzling that Dean had to suck in a sharp breath and force his eyes on the road. "I love chocolate."

Huffing out a laugh, Dean clicked on the music and Zeppelin softly filled the air. "Oh really? I never would've known." Shifting onto the main road, Dean grinned at Cas. "I definitely didn't see you eat 3 chocolate bars yesterday."

Cas pretended to be shocked, gasping at Dean even though his eyes were sparkling with laughter. "That certainly wasn't me. Sam framed me."

The laughter bubbled up from Dean’s chest, and he couldn't stop himself from knocking his hand against Cas' knee. "You're a menace. You and your sudden sweet tooth."

"I don't see you complaining that hard. Considering now you have someone to eat chocolate pancakes with."

The breath caught in Dean's throat; such simple words hitting like a wave against his chest. Keeping his focus on the road, he quickly darted his gaze over at Cas from the corner of his eye. Cas had tucked himself against the door, with his body still tilted towards Dean. There was a soft expression on his face; a smile that lit up his eyes with his nose crinkled adorably.

Oh God, this feeling really was going to consume Dean.

Shifting the conversation towards topics that wouldn’t make Dean’s heart ache in his chest, the hour-long drive slipped by in a blur. The diner soon loomed on the horizon, and it was so easy to keep talking about blueberries vs bananas as Dean guided the Impala into a parking spot.

“Doesn’t it depend on what you’re putting the fruit with?” Dean asked, holding the diner door open for Cas to walk through. “Besides, bananas can be baked into far more things than blueberries.”

Cas scrunched up his face, giving Dean a look that bordered on a pout. “You’re just saying that because you prefer bananas over blueberries.”

"I would never," Dean teased, before stepping up to the counter. "Table for two, please."

"Right this way," the hostess said, guiding them to a booth in the back of the diner.

As soon as they sat down, Cas moved to pick up a menu from the table, but Dean reached out from the other side of the booth and plucked it from Cas' hands. "Nope. No looking. You just gotta trust me on this one, yeah?"

"What if I don't like it?" Cas asked, raising an eyebrow even though he leaned back in his seat, conceding to Dean's statement of trust.

Tapping his fingers against the table, Dean tried not to linger on the way their fingertips had just barely brushed when he'd pulled the menu from Cas' grasp. "You will. Don't overthink it and have a little faith in me."

"I do. Trust you," Cas said, something in his tone slipping from playful to serious.

Dean shook his head, dispelling the heavier tone. He didn't want to think about Cas' unwavering trust and how most days he felt like he didn't deserve it. Right now, this moment was about showing Cas something more.

"Good. Because if you don't like it, I'm never speaking to you again," Dean joked, lightening the mood again.

"Never again? That's a long time to not talk to me because of some pancakes, Dean,” Cas laughed.

Just as Dean was about to throw another tease at Cas, a waiter appeared at their table with a smile and a notepad in his hand.

“Hi there, welcome to Mel’s. My name’s Hunter. Can I get you something to drink?”

“Actually, Hunter, we’re ready to order. Two coffees, one with cream and sugar and one with cream. And two short stacks of the rocky road pancakes, please.”

Hunter smiled, jotting down the order. “Well that was easy. I’ll get those coffees out to you both in just a few moments.”

“Thank you,” Cas said, as Hunter collected their menus and disappeared towards the kitchen. “You know how I like my coffee?”

Dean ducked his head, a sudden tinge burning his cheeks as he cleared his throat. “Cream and two sugars. Like I said, you like things on the sweeter side,” Dean said, avoiding Cas’ gaze from the other side of the table.

“You’re very observant,” Cas pointed out.

Dean bit down on his tongue, forcing himself to swallow the words ‘I’m only observant when it comes to you.’ Instead, he threw on a cocky smirk and said, “That’s because I’m an excellent hunter.”

Rolling his eyes, Cas kicked Dean lightly under the table. “You’re not that good.”

Dean pretended to be offended, scrunching up one of the spare napkins and throwing it at Cas’ face. Cas laughed, bright and giddy, and Dean felt a weightless feeling in his chest. He spent the next 15 minutes doing anything and everything he could just to hear Cas laugh again and again.

By the time their pancakes and coffee arrived at the table, Cas’ cheeks were pink from laughter and Dean had never been more smitten. Cas made a little sound of shock as the pancakes were put in front of him; his eyes widening as he looked up at Dean in surprise.

Three massive chocolate pancakes covered the entire size of the plate. Topped with handfuls of marshmallows and almonds, along with a drizzle of chocolate syrup and cocoa powder, it was a chocolate overload.

“What do you think? Does it look sweet enough for you, angel?” Dean said, with a grin.

“Looks like Heaven,” Cas muttered, picking up his fork and taking a bite. Cas instantly groaned in pleasure, eyes fluttering shut as he hummed happily. “Tastes like it, too.”

Dean wasn’t sure whether to laugh at Cas’ words or to dwell on the sound Cas had made when he tasted the pancakes, and it was all too much and not enough.

“You like it?” Dean asked, swallowing a mouthful of his own pancake and washing it down with a sip of coffee just so he could distract himself from the look of sheer bliss that was on Cas’ face.

“It’s the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” Cas said, dipping one of the mini marshmallows into the chocolate syrup with a grin.

This time Dean did laugh, nudging Cas’ leg under the table with his foot. “Don’t eat it too fast or you’ll give yourself hiccups.”

“That’s not a thing,” Cas said, chewing on another mouthful of pancake.

“Yeah, Cas, it is,” Dean said, huffing out a breath and rolling his eyes fondly.

As if to prove his point, Cas started hiccuping a minute later. Dean raised an eyebrow, as if to say, ‘see, I told you,’ and Cas pouted.

“But it’s so-” he broke off to hiccup, “Good.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Dean said warmly. “Hold your breath for twenty seconds, and then eat a little slower. The pancake isn’t going anywhere.”

Cas gave Dean a sharp look. “Unless you-” he hiccuped again, “steal it from my plate before I can eat it.”

Okay, that was a fair point. Dean definitely had eaten from Cas’ plate before. But this time, he placed his hand on his heart as he said, “I won’t touch your pancakes, you have my word.”

Shoulders bouncing as Cas hiccuped again, Dean watched as Cas took in a deep breath and then held it. He internally counted as well, watching as Cas let the breath out twenty seconds later.

They both waited a beat, then two, and when no more hiccups came, Cas beamed at Dean. “It worked,” he said before moving to take another bite of chocolatey goodness.

They lapsed into comfortable silence as they ate, both of them enjoying their breakfast. Cas broke the moment a few minutes later to say, "I want to eat these pancakes every day for the rest of my life."

Taking a sip of his coffee, Dean grinned across the table at Cas. "I'm not sure if we can get out here every day. But we can make it a thing, if you want? Every Sunday that we're at home, you and I can drive down here for breakfast," Dean offered.

Cas nodded eagerly, a genuine smile lighting up his face. "I'd love that."

Something warm settled in Dean's veins; seeing Cas so happy and content over something as simple as a stack of pancakes. It was all Dean had wanted. To see Cas smile and to see him enjoy something Dean also liked.

Nodding firmly, decision made, Dean nudged Cas with his foot again. “Finish your pancakes. We’ve got more things to explore today.”

“Like what?” Cas asked, freezing with his fork inches from his lips. Dean had to force himself to look away before he stared at the way Cas’ lips wrapped around the fork.

“You’ll see. I’ll give you a couple options in the car and you can pick whichever one you want,” Dean said, biting down on his own fork just a little too roughly; the tang of metal vibrating along his tooth.

Cas pouted, pointing at Dean with the handle of his fork. “What if I want to know the options now?”

Miming zipping his lips closed, Dean smiled at the fond exasperation that Cas shot his way. The expression instantly melted into a smile again as Cas scooped more marshmallows onto his chocolate pancake.

“A new tradition,” Cas murmured, more to himself than Dean, but Dean heard the fondness in the words and his heart kicked up again in his chest.

God, Dean was happy. Happier than he’d been in a long time. He genuinely cared about Cas enjoying things, and knowing he’d been able to make Cas smile was a damn good feeling.

By the time they made their way back to the Impala twenty minutes later, both full of chocolatey sweetness, Cas immediately tapped his fingers on Dean’s knee. “What are the options?”

Rolling his eyes, Dean nudged Baby into gear and pulled back out onto the road. “So impatient.”

“Shut up,” Cas huffed, his tone sharply contrasting the happy look on his face.

“Alright. Simple question. Don’t think too hard about it. Ready?”

Cas nodded.

“Aquarium or the zoo?”

Cas’ eyes sparkled bright blue in the late morning sunlight as he made his choice. “Aquarium.”

The afternoon sun crept through the Impala windows as they arrived at the aquarium in Kansas City a couple of hours later. Cas had spent the entire drive talking about the evolution of fish and their importance to the earth from creation until now.

It was entirely endearing, hearing Cas talk so animatedly. It made Dean want to pull over; to watch Cas talk as he hung on every word that slipped past Cas’ lips. Instead, he darted his eyes over to the passenger seat as often as he could, watching as Cas occasionally emphasized his point by gesturing with his hands.

Too cute.

Dean turned his eyes back to the road again.

As soon as they’d parked, Cas was out of the car and gravitating towards the entrance before Dean could even open his door. There was an excited gleam in Cas’ eyes, and Dean felt the electric pull as he allowed Cas to lead the way to the ticket booth.

“I wonder if they’ll have any seahorses. Did you know they’re the only animals where the male carries the eggs and undergoes the birthing process?” Cas asked as Dean purchased the tickets.

Dean hummed vaguely in answer, not wanting to take away from Cas’ enthusiasm by admitting he already knew that. “I’m sure they’ll have plenty of seahorses,” he said instead, watching Cas from the corner of his eye as the former angel beamed.

Stepping into the cool air conditioned building, Dean’s eyes caught the entrance sign that indicated which direction each exhibit was located and he nudged Cas towards it. “What do you want to see first?”

Cas’ gaze caught the very first line on the sign and he grinned. “There are sea turtles, Dean. A whole rescue center for them.” Something in Cas’ expression shifted from excited to fond in the blink of an eye; leaving Dean reeling at how expressive Cas was. “It’s nice. That there are people who try to conserve endangered species.”

Dean bumped his shoulder into Cas’, gently directing him towards the sea turtle exhibit. “See? Not all humans are terrible,” he joked.

“No. They’re not,” Cas said, the fondness morphing into something tender as his gaze locked with Dean’s. The moment felt blinding, and Dean had to tear his eyes away before he did something stupid like lean in and kiss Cas right in front of the exhibit.

Instead, Dean shifted the conversation into something lighter. Putting his hand out, he caught Cas’ shoulder and held him back mere feet from the turtles. When Cas gave him a questioning look, Dean moved to tap his nose with his finger. “Take a second. What do you smell?”

Cas tilted his head, sucking in a deep breath before raising an eyebrow at Dean. “Salt water.”

Dean nodded. “Part of the experience is the smell; the salt lingering in the air from the exhibits. Almost makes you feel like you’re right there by the ocean.”

Dean watched as Cas’ eyes fluttered shut as he took another long, slow breath. A little smile graced his lips, and the sight was so simplistic and yet so beautiful Dean momentarily lost his breath. Quickly sneaking out his phone, Dean took a picture; with the turtles in the background and Cas with his eyes closed in a peaceful bliss.

“I like it,” Cas said a moment later, eyes fluttering open as he looked over at Dean. “The atmosphere is peaceful.”

Nodding, Dean nudged Cas to start moving again. “I’m glad. Now let’s go see the turtles.”

Entering into the turtles rescue center, they walked up to one of the large tanks where several turtles gracefully swam by. Cas moved forward, gently pressing his palm to the glass. “They’re beautiful,” he murmured.

“Do you want to sit and watch them? It looks like there might be someone coming to feed them if you want to stay for that?” Dean asked.

“I’d love to,” Cas said, letting Dean lead him to a bench just a couple of feet away.

They sat down together, watching as the turtles elegantly moved through the water. It was captivating and mesmerizing; both watching the turtles glide through the water, but also watching Cas watching the turtles.

“Tell me something. About turtles, I mean,” Dean said, bumping Cas’ knee with his own.

“Their species is 110 million years old,” Cas said wistfully, as if he were picturing the moment when sea turtles first came into existence. “They don’t have any teeth,” he said, nodding his head to the tank where several jellyfish and crabs were being fed to the turtles. “Their mouth is made of keratin, like your fingernails, which helps to break down the plants and small animals that they eat.”

“They really are elegant,” Dean said, pressing his shoe up against Cas’ and offering him a smile.

Cas nodded, his eyes darting back and forth between the turtles and Dean. “They were some of my favorite creatures made for the ocean.” Cas lapsed into silence for a few moments, his gaze caught on a cluster of turtles that swam up to the surface to take a breath.

Dean let the pause linger, but instead of watching the turtles, he spent his time watching Cas. He cataloged the serene expression on Cas’ face and committed it to memory. It was a pleased contentment that Dean wanted to see Cas experience over and over again.

After several minutes of watching the turtles swim around and waddle their way up onto a sandy ledge, Cas bumped their knees together. “What’s next?”

“You tell me,” Dean said. “What do you want to see?”

“Fish. Any fish,” he paused, “The fish from that movie you’ve talked about before.”

Dean laughed, tipping his head back and letting a bubbling feeling of happiness wrap around his heart. “You mean Finding Nemo?”

“That’s it. Show me fish from Finding Nemo,” Cas said, getting up from the bench and offering his hand to Dean.

Dean let his fingers wrap around Cas’ wrist as Cas pulled him to his feet, and a spark of longing cascaded down his spine. Before he could linger on the feeling for too long, Cas had let go and was moving towards the nearest sign with arrows to the major exhibits.

“It says fish exhibits are this way,” Cas said, already moving towards the tunnel he’d indicated. Except it wasn’t just a tunnel. A large tank wrapped around the walkway, giving a massive overhead view of several sharks and fishes as they stepped into the passage.

“Wow,” Cas breathed out, tilting his head back so he could watch as a blacktip shark swam over their heads. They paused in the corridor, watching as a school of fish darted overhead just seconds after the shark had passed. “I’ve never seen anything like this before,” Cas whispered.

There was something about Cas’ earnest awe that made Dean want to surprise him over and over again. “Do you like it?” Dean asked, stepping to the side as a family moved past them.

“I do,” Cas replied, happy and carefree.

And then they were moving again; past the sharks and into several rooms filled with tanks of colorful fish. From sea bass to minnows, and rockfish to flounders; they spent a vast amount of time looking at each exhibit of fish. Dean specifically found tanks filled with clownfish and blue tangs, explaining the plot of Finding Nemo even though he knew Cas already knew the movie.

The exhibits transitioned from fish into invertebrates and other sea creatures; crabs and lobsters, jellyfish and urchins, eels to octopi. Cas was fascinated by every animal they saw.

But Dean’s favorite part was the knowledge Cas shared. At every single exhibit, Dean pointed at a fish and asked, “Tell me something about this one.” And, without fail, Cas instantly told Dean a unique fact or detail about whichever animal Dean had pointed at. Dean stopped looking at the signs next to each tank, instead turning and asking Cas what each species was. No matter how many times Dean asked, Cas gave him the same beautifully fond smile as he detailed every fish they saw.

By the time they’d made their way through all of the tanks, Dean swore he could write and direct his own nature series on sea creatures with all the information Cas had shared.

“Alright, now we’ve seen the fish, are you ready for the best part of any aquarium trip?” Dean asked as they stepped back out into the main entryway of the building.

“There’s something better than seeing the fish?” Cas asked, tilting his head questioningly.

Dean chuckled, nudging Cas towards another corridor while deliberately blocking the signpost from view so that he could surprise Cas. “Oh, trust me, you’re gonna enjoy this.”

Guiding Cas past tanks of coral and kelp, they walked out into a large enclosure. People lingered around a massive pool in the center of the room; children screaming and giggling and the sounds of splashing water echoing around the walls.

“Welcome,” Dean said, gesturing widely with his arms, “To the interactive touchpool.”

“The what?” Cas asked, squinting at Dean in shock.

“Touchpool, Cas. It’s where you can actually put your hand in the water and touch the creatures. I thought you’d like to physically interact with some of the animals. If you want?”

Cas pulled in a sharp breath, his eyes flitting to the large pool before darting back to Dean in awe. “What animals are there?”

“Why don’t we go find out?” Dean said, guiding Cas to the sink area so they could both wash their hands before directing them to an open spot along the wall of the exhibit. Rolling his sleeve up, Dean motioned for Cas to do the same. Then he dipped his fingertips into the water, and watched as Cas copied his motions.

Reaching out, Dean’s fingers brushed over a sea star and he chuckled quietly. “C’mere,” he said, moving his hand through the water until he bumped against Cas. Linking their fingers together, Dean guided their joined hands down until Cas’ palm was pressed against the sea star.

“Oh.” Cas’ surprise hung in the air between them as he leaned his weight into Dean’s side. Pressed together against the rocky edge of the exhibit, Dean swore he never wanted to let go. But Cas deserved to experience what it felt like to touch these creatures. Loosening his hold on Cas’ wrist until he was just barely brushing their hands together, Dean felt Cas’ hand move slowly over the top of the sea star, as if he were memorizing every hard bump of the spines along its body. “It’s not what I expected, even though I know every molecule they’re made of. It feels… leathery,” Cas said, tilting his head carefully as he gently traced his fingers over the starfish for a second time.

Dean gave Cas another minute to interact with the sea star before he slipped his fingers across the back of Cas’ hand and carefully guided him again. “How does this feel?” he asked as he lowered Cas’ hand down gently towards an anemone.

Cas let out another little gasp, hand jerking back slightly at the texture before he touched it again. “Gelatinous. Like jello,” Cas said with a laugh, fingers tracing over the flower-like structure.

Shifting away slightly to put some space between them, Dean moved to pull his hand away, but Cas instantly followed him until he pressed their hands together again. Their fingers interlocked under the rippling water, and Dean felt his breath stutter out of his lungs.

“Show me something else,” Cas said, voice almost drowned out by the loud sounds all around them.

Pulling in a sharp breath, Dean kept their hands linked together as he took a step to the side; waiting for Cas to follow him. He watched carefully as the stingray moved along the floor of the exhibit, and as it approached them, he directed Cas’ hand down until his palm slid down the stingray's back.

“What does the stingray feel like?” Dean asked, words sticking in his throat as the overwhelming sensations sparked between them.

“Smooth. Almost sleek and silky,” Cas said, voice dropping into something breathy in awe. Cas’ hand lingered against the stingray, fingertips stroking over it’s skin before Dean shifted their joined hands down onto the bottom of the tank.

“Let it move over your hand,” Dean said, shifting his hold on Cas until he was gripping around Cas’ wrist.

The stingray rippled over Cas’ hand as it swam along the floor, and Cas let out a startled laugh. “It tickles,” he said, leaning his weight back into Dean again until his hip bumped against Dean’s. They remained that way for several long seconds as the stingray moved over Cas’ hand and continued on its way down the length of the pool.

Dean cast his eyes from the water up to Cas, and their gazes locked for a heart-pounding moment. An unspoken thing passed between them, and Cas momentarily flipped his hand until his palm brushed against Dean’s palm. There was a rush of water that moved around their hands at the motion, but Dean swore he could feel the heat from Cas’ hand radiating up into his.

Movement from a large gray fish broke Dean from the trace and he tipped Cas’ hand palm down again as the fish swam past.

“Fish,” Dean said.

“Sturgeon,” Cas clarified as his fingers grazed along the bony spines of its back until it’s whiskers tickled over the pads of his fingers. “It’s smooth because it doesn't have any scales, but also bony where the cartilage creates these projections.”

Nodding, Dean glided their hands through the water again until they brushed against the sharp roughness of coral.

“It’s different, right? Focusing all your senses on the way something feels,” Dean said quietly.

Cas nodded, letting Deans’ fingers slide into the gaps between his own again. “I’ve never experienced anything quite like it,” Cas said, words whispered reverently between them. And then, said even more quietly, “I remember watching the evolution of these creatures; watching one of the fish climb onto the shore and another angel telling me not to step on that fish because there were big plans for it. I wish I’d known then.”

“Known what?” Dean asked, a sudden lump forming in his throat.

“How beautiful fish could be, and what it was truly like to see them and touch them,” Cas responded, letting Dean maneuver them as another stingray floated through the water right underneath their hands.

Dean tilted his head, watching the way Cas’ expressions shifted from amazement to surprise and delight.

“Do you want to stay here for a little while? We can see if there’s any other creatures on the other side of the pool that you can interact with?”

The smile that Cas gave him was so bright Dean swore it rivaled the sun. “I’d like that very much.”

Letting go of Cas’ hand and stepping away from the water felt like Dean had left a part of himself behind on the edge of the pool. But when they’d found a new spot on the opposite end of the exhibit, Cas’ hand instantly found Dean’s underwater.

They spent an hour at the touchpool interacting with the creatures, but Dean wasn’t paying attention to the animals anymore. All he could focus on was the way Cas’ hand fit perfectly with his own, and how Cas kept their fingers intertwined the entire time. Dean never wanted the moment to end; Cas pressed against him, babbling excitedly about how everything felt, as if they had all the time in the world to linger right there at the edge of the glistening water.

Dusk had fallen by the time they left the aquarium. Walking back to the car, Dean felt drunk on happiness with the tingling sensation of Cas’ fingers still lingering against his hand. Part of him wanted to reach out and grasp Cas’ hand again, but without the pretense of the water, Dean hesitated and the moment slipped by.

But the day had been good; better than anything Dean could’ve hoped for. In all the time he’d known Cas, Dean swore he’d never seen Cas laugh and smile so much.

By the time they climbed back into the Impala, Cas was hiding a yawn behind his hand, automatically dropping his head to rest against the door.

“I think that’s enough excitement for one day. Ready to find a motel and get some sleep?” Dean asked.

Cas’ tired eyes found Dean’s in the muted light from the streetlight above them, and he gave Dean a soft nod. Despite the exhaustion, Dean could still see the etches of happiness lingering in Cas’ expression. Something churned in Dean’s stomach at the sight and he reached out, resting his hand briefly on Cas’ knee with a gentle squeeze.

“Dean,” Cas said, voice infused with affection.

The tenderness was almost too much to bear, and Dean cast his eyes out to the road as they pulled out of the parking lot. “Sap,” he muttered back to Cas, catching the little fond smile on Cas’ face at the light teasing.

Once they were back on the road, Cas closed his eyes and tipped his head back against the door again. Dean noticed, and quickly he fumbled one handed to grab one of his spare jackets from the backseat. He nudged it into Cas’ lap, nodding his head towards the door. “Better to use a jacket as a pillow.”

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas murmured thickly, scrunching the jacket up and nestling it between his head and the door. Another surge of fondness surged up to wrap around Dean’s lungs, and he forced himself to focus on driving instead of watching Cas drift off to sleep with his head pillowed on his jacket.

It took almost half an hour of driving to find a motel that had any vacancy- why the last 3 were all full was a surprising feat that Dean had rarely encountered- and Dean was tempted to let Cas sleep the rest of the night tucked up in the passenger seat, but he knew from experience that it was more comfortable to drag his exhausted ass into a motel room than to get neck ache from sleeping against the car door. As softly as he could, Dean nudged Cas’ shoulder.

Cas’ eyes immediately fluttered open, Dean’s name on his lips as he catalogued their surroundings with sleepy blinks.

“Hey buddy. Are you ready to get out of the car and get some sleep in a bed?” Dean prompted, keeping his tone gentle in the peaceful darkness of the car.

“Yeah, okay,” Cas said, scrubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.

God. The sight was ridiculously cute. Dean’s heart kicked up against his chest, and he forced himself to open the door and step out into the cool night air before he reached out and brushed his hand through Cas’ messy hair. “I’ll go get us checked in.”

He waited until he saw Cas nod before he made his way to the front desk.

A young man looked up as the bell above the door dinged, and the smell of musty haze hit Dean as he stepped into the building.

“Single room with two queens, please,” Dean said, stepping up to the counter.

The man made a face, shaking his head as he dropped a key in front of Dean. “Sorry, dude. I’ve got one room left with one bed. There’s a convention in town and everywhere is booked for miles.”

Well shit. Dean cast his eyes outside to Cas, who was leaning against the hood of the Impala with his shoulders hunched as if he were barely keeping himself standing upright. They were both tired, and searching for another motel when there was a room here felt unnecessarily complicated. They could share a bed, right? It was just for one night. Cas wouldn’t mind, would he?

“Yeah, alright, we’ll take it,” Dean said, lungs suddenly constricting in his chest at the thought of lying inches away from Cas. “Thanks.” Picking up the key, Dean made his way back out to the Impala where Cas had stacked their bags on the curb by his feet.

“Hope you don’t mind sharing,” he said, bending down to grab his overnight bag. “They only had one room left with just one bed.”

“Okay,” Cas said, simple and easy. But was that… was that a smile? Why was Cas smiling about sharing a bed? Surely he wouldn’t want to be crammed up next to Dean after they’d spent all day in each other’s pockets. “I’m following you.”

Shaking his head, Dean hummed vaguely and followed the signs down to their room. Nudging open the door, Dean dumped his bag on the little table by the window. “You can go ahead and take a shower first if you want?”

Cas smiled, tired yet genuine. “Are you sure?”

Nodding, Dean gestured towards the bathroom. “Go for it. I’m just gonna check in on Sam and see how he’s doing.”

“Thank you, Dean.”

Dean watched Cas disappear into the bathroom, and his chest ached as the yearning wrapped thickly around his lungs. God. Any hopes Dean had of this trip dampening his feelings had quickly flown out the window. The ache was even deeper now, and the thought of sharing a bed with Cas all night was more than Dean could handle.

Stepping back outside, Dean sucked in a sharp lungful of air. He really was in trouble now. Calling Sam didn’t seem to distract Dean at all; especially because Sam had nothing exciting to report other than the fact he’d been doing some inventory work around the bunker.

A cold shower would help to tamper down the yearning… well, it would’ve if Dean hadn’t seen Cas emerge from the bathroom in a soft pair of pajama pants and one of Dean’s old tshirts that he’d given to Cas a couple months ago.

Shit. Dean was well and truly smitten.

Cas tugged the blankets around himself as he curled up on the left side of the bed, and Dean felt his heart lurch in his chest. Soft. That was the best word he could find to describe how Cas looked. Hair still damp and flopped across his forehead with a faded maroon shirt highlighting Cas’ tan. The sleepy look in Cas’ eyes was enough to have Dean melting into the floor.

“I’ll be- uh, be right back,” Dean said, locking himself into the bathroom as his heart thundered against his ribs.

There was no escaping the feeling.

By the time Dean made his way back into the room, he expected Cas to be asleep. But instead he was propped up against the headboard and he smiled at Dean the second he saw him. Dean hesitated for a moment at the edge of the bed, before pulling back the covers and climbing in on the other side.

Cas instantly shifted so he was facing Dean, offering him another tired smile. “Today was good. Really good,” he murmured quietly.

Dean felt himself relax into the mattress; tilting until he was lying face to face with Cas. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Cas replied. They lapsed into silence for a few moments before Cas admitted, “I didn’t know it could be like that.”

Dean raised an eyebrow in the faint light coming from the single lamp on Cas’ side of the bed, waiting for Cas to clarify what he meant.

“That the simple things in life could be so beautiful,” Cas said after a moment, as if he’d been looking for the right words to describe what he was feeling. “I don’t know what…” Cas paused, tilting his head until his cheek was pressed into the pillow. “I’ve never really known what happiness is. But I think this is what it looks like; what it feels like.”

The words hovered between them, heavy in their confession and yet light in their tone.

“You’re happy?” Dean whispered, barely able to get his voice to escape past his lips.

Cas smiled, gummy and soft, and it was the most beautiful smile Dean had ever seen. “Really, really happy,” Cas said, fingers tugging lightly at the blanket he’d wrapped himself in.

The words settled like honey in Dean’s veins, and he felt himself smile right back at Cas. God, why was he feeling so sappy and why did he want to do anything to keep that smile on Cas’ face?

“Wanna talk about plans for tomorrow? I’ve got another idea you might enjoy that’s on the way back home,” Dean said. The idea had wiggled its way into his head while he’d been brushing his teeth, and he had a feeling it would make Cas smile even more when he suggested it.

“Yeah?” Cas asked, echoing the same tone Dean had used just a couple minutes ago.

“Botanical garden. There’s one on the other side of Kansas City that’s famous for blooming flowers this time of year. I thought you might like to see some of the beauty of nature,” Dean said.

A smitten look crossed Cas’ face; his eyes softening into something extremely tender and affectionate. And then he was leaning across the pillow into Dean’s space. When their lips met, it was the softest brush Dean had ever felt in his life.

Cas pulled back with a little sigh of an exhale, and then dove back in to press their mouths together again. This kiss was even warmer and slower; Cas pressing his body against Dean and Dean wrapping his arms around Cas’ waist to coax him closer.

They broke the kiss with little gasps before closing the gap to kiss again. Cas’ nose brushed against Dean’s, nuzzling delicately, before his fingertips grazed along Dean’s jaw.

Dean’s heart ached in his chest as Cas peppered several quick butterfly pecks against his lips before lingering on the next kiss. Everything seemed to slow down around them, until all of Dean’s senses were overwhelmed with the touch and taste of Cas.

Somehow, Dean had always pictured that kissing Cas would be like an electrical storm; crackling and fizzling and bursting with desperation to make things deeper. But this… this was the most delicate and romantic kiss Dean had ever experienced in his life. Soft and simple; just gentle caresses of their lips melding together with little happy hums.

Cas tilted his head and Dean followed the movement, sliding his hand under the hem of Cas’ tshirt until he was tracing little patterns along Cas’ hip. Each kiss felt like Dean was going to melt into the mattress as Cas huffed a tiny breath against his cheek before kissing him again.

God.

It was so good Dean just couldn’t get enough.

When Cas pulled back with a stuttering breath, Dean chased him, free hand coming up to cup Cas’ cheek as he brushed their noses together again before seeking out Cas’ lips in another kiss.

Quiet little pleased sounds filled the air with the tickle of lips teasing against each other. Cas’ hands had found their way into Dean’s hair, and Dean had all but tugged Cas forwards until he was lying across Dean’s chest. Fast kisses morphed into slow tangible dances as their mouths learned what it felt like to be slotted together.

By the time Dean finally pulled back, resting his forehead against Cas’, he was absolutely breathless and his heart was milliseconds from catapulting out of his chest with how fast it was beating.

“What was that for?” Dean whispered, tracing his fingertips from Cas’ hip to the small of his back.

“Because you’re absolutely… Dean, you’re just… indescribable,” Cas murmured, lips ghosting over Dean’s cheek. “I’ve wanted to kiss you all day. You make me happier than I’ve ever been in my entire existence.”

Something in Dean’s chest burned warm and pleasant through his veins, lighting his heart on fire. This whole time, Cas had felt the same way he did. God. He’d have kissed Cas breathless over those chocolate pancakes had he known that Cas wanted it, too.

Cas tucked himself more comfortably against his side, and Dean looped his arms loosely around Cas’ back.

“Dean,” Cas whispered, breath tickling along Dean’s neck.

“Hm?” Dean hummed quietly.

“Kiss me again.”

This time it was just sleepy little brushes; lips ever-so-softly coming together in chaste touches as they kissed. When Cas pulled back, he muttered something about the botanical gardens and how happy he was. The words were muffled into the collar of Dean’s shirt, and Dean felt the shift as Cas drifted off to sleep in his arms.

When sleep finally caught up to Dean after he spent several long minutes committing this perfect day to his memory, it was with the taste of Cas still lingering against his lips and the feel of Cas’ body pressed against his own.

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jishyucks · 3 years

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Into My traeH ‣ sjy

‣ genre: hogwarts!au, implied bestfriends-to-lovers, fluff

‣ wc: 4.1k

‣ summary: A strike of realization occurs between you and Jake when an encounter with the Mirror of Erised reveals nothing but your own reflections

‣ prompt: ❝What are you doing out here so late?❞

‣ warnings?: none, I don't think

‣ an: This fic is for @chicksung's birthday collab! Happy (early) Sweet Sixteen, Sophie! Sending you my best wishes and I hope you enjoy this! <3 (ps. gonna change the link to the masterlist once you post it!)

It wasn’t an out-of-the-ordinary occurrence for you to have trouble sleeping, especially on stormy nights.

No, you weren’t afraid of storms. Oddly, you found storms comforting. It was probably in the fact that people tended to find ways to get cozy in bad weather. It held a sense of warmth, on the inside rather than out. This was the same reason why you preferred winter over the summer and autumn over spring.

Sitting up in the dark, you carefully eyed your dorm mates, hoping that no one else was awake to see you in your drowsy state. You didn’t want to bother anyone either or cause any sense of panic in them when you decided to leave. After a few more moments of observing, you concluded that no one was up, that all their chests had been rising and falling in states that were only possible at rest.

Quietly, you throw your blanket aside, sliding your legs over the edge of the bed and just above the slippers that you placed on the floor just a few hours prior. The set destination you had in mind was the fireplace in the common room. Though it wasn’t necessarily cold in the room, you craved the comfort of the fire’s heat. The same type of comfort that could help lull you to sleep.

Tip-toeing down the stairs, you feel your eyelids losing their weight, tugging your night robe tighter to your body. From the middle of the staircase, you could see the fireplace had been lit, the red-orange glow emitting off of the turn in the staircase walls. This caused your brows to knit together in confusion. Who was down here at such a late hour?

At the bottom of the staircase, you let yourself stop for a moment, taking in the back of another’s head as they faced the fire. They had moved one of the couches so that they were closer to the fireplace. They wanted heat too.

“Hello?” You spoke quietly.

The person—the boy—jumps up and turns to look at your presence, surprised at the unexpected company. Since the fire had been set behind him, his face was almost completely blocked out by shadows. Instead, his silhouette greeted you.

“Y/N?” He said, “You scared me!”

You recognized his voice almost immediately. It was none other than your best friend, Jake. No one else would be scared of something so simple.

You laugh at the familiarity of this situation, and you’re suddenly taken back to when you first met Jake. You both were first years. It was the first time you both had been away from your parents for that long, sharing rooms with other first-years who already seemed to have gotten the hang of the dorm system. For eleven-year-olds, that was impressive, you remember thinking. Only you weren’t the type to act so nonchalantly when it came to being away from home.

There was a night sometime in October that year that your chest had been aching. The cause? Homesickness. It didn’t help that the only form of communication you had with your parents were owls. That was probably the only thing you missed from the muggle world. Telephones.

You brought yourself down to the common room, lighting the fireplace on your own. The fire’s warmth gave you comfort, the same type you’d find at home, and you remember you felt the achiness of your chest ease at the feeling.

“Are you homesick too?” A sudden presence has appeared seemingly out of nowhere. You turned to find a boy, pyjamas and a sweater a bit too large for him, “I’m Jake.”

You feel yourself smile at his automatic need to introduce himself, “I’m Y/N.” You scooted over to one side of the couch, a wordless way to say sit with me. Jake understood this, plopping down in the now empty spot. “How did you know?”

Jake nods, “Just a good guess.”

You remember replying instantly to Jake’s observation, warming up to him almost immediately. That conversation started a chain of smaller convos, the both of you veering off of certain topics and into others. You two had clicked easily. Speaking to him was easy. So easy that the next thing you knew, the sun had been shining through the small glass windows on the sides of the tower.

“Jake? What are you doing out here so late?” A relieving feeling bloomed in your chest, thankful that it was Jake who had been down here instead of someone else. You guess he added to the sense of comfort you were looking for.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he chuckles quietly. Approaching him, you rounded the couch and sat next to him. You take in his attire, which had been simply pyjama pants and his knitted Gryffindor sweater. For being awake late at night, he looked as alive as he did in the daytime.

The warmth of the fire greeted you kindly, engulfing you in a hug. You smiled at it and replied, “I can’t sleep… I don’t know if I’m just not tired or if something’s secretly bothering me, but I can’t sleep.” You turned your attention to Jake and tilted your head in question, “How about you?”

“I’m studying for the upcoming test,” Jake didn’t feel the need to specify which test he was talking about as you had the same transfiguration class with him. It was only when he pointed towards the mess of books and parchment on the coffee table that you had actually noticed them.

You laugh, “Sim Jaeyun, that test is on Monday.” Taking your index finger, you dig it into his side, which causes him to jump slightly, “Don’t stress yourself out.”

Quietly yelping, Jake hugs himself before nodding, “I know, but knowing myself I’ll pay no mind to it over the weekend. It’s better to stock up on knowledge now than have to magically absorb it all on Sunday.” Jake wiggles his eyebrows, a smile rising upon his face, causing you to laugh softly.

“Fair,” you nodded. There was a comfortable silence between the two of you, the rain falling and the fire crackling, substituting pure silence. Jake was swinging his legs over the edge of the couch, toes wiggling when it neared the heat. Your gaze shifted from his restless legs to his still hands, which were so close to your own that you wondered if the heat you could feel at your fingertips radiated off the boy or the fireplace. A part of you wanted to push your fingers closer just to get a feel of holding his hand, but you kept yourself from doing so.

It was when you were finally immersed into the sounds of the rain that Jake spoke up, “Wanna go on an adventure?” He had a childish glint in his eyes and a smirk that could possibly cause someone to mistake him for a Slytherin. Jake sat up and faced you completely, “I’m bored.”

“And get caught?” You scoff, “No offense, Jake, but you’re a bit foolish sometimes.” Bringing your arms out closer to the heat, you sighed.

“It’s the weekend tomorrow,” Jake points out, “It isn’t as bad as if it would be on a weekday.” He stands up and brings his hands to his hips, trying to persuade you with a knowing smile. Knowing because he knows how much you love to explore the unknown.

Jake teetered back and forth slightly on his feet, waiting for your reply with his hands crossed in front of him. The way he looked right now reminded you of a younger child begging to go to the park during a snowstorm. It was a ridiculous, dull-witted idea—of course, it was, this is Jake we’re talking about—but as you began weighing the options at that very moment, you believed that Jake was secretly a genius.

“What do you even plan on doing?” You ask, slowly sliding forward on the couch. Your feet were now flat on the worn-out carpet, which was so worn out it was firm under your feet, “Don’t you recall those three Gryffindor students years ago? If we end up like them I swea–“

“We’re not going to the forbidden quarters, Y/N,” Jake huffs, “I don’t have dirt for brains.”

Without thinking, Jake holds out his hand to help you up, a brow raised. For a mere moment, you feel your heart skip a beat, eyes dead set on his rather soft-looking hand. Your eyes flickered towards the entrance of the common room, returning to Jake’s hand. He was often persuasive without even knowing it, especially when it came to you. Barely thinking about it, you take his hand, grabbing hold of it to stand up.

After crouching through the doorway, Jake leading the way, you both find yourselves in the dimly lit castle, the muffled sound of the hard-hitting rain pelting the outside. The atmosphere was a lot different out here compared to the common room, an obvious detail. You felt as though you were some shrimp in the middle of a giant empty tank.

“Where were you thinking of going?” You whispered, shifting all of your weight from one foot to the other. Jake mentally skimmed the possible destinations within the castle, crossing off the further ones.

When he reached a point of indecision, he shook his head and turned to you, “Let’s just wander.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, “Wander?”

Without another word, Jake takes off, not with a sprint, but a skip, leaving you behind. You could hear him giggle faintly, causing your eyes to widen in a slight panic. Chasing after him with feet as light as feathers, you try to shush him, propping a finger over your lips. Jake acts as if he’s ignoring you, though you notice him following your orders as he slows down to allow you to catch up.

“You have to keep your mouth shut, Sim,” feeling like a mother, you smack the back of his arm hard enough that it was considered a smack, “As if the professors aren’t patrolling the halls.”

Jake shrugs carelessly, “We won’t get caught I promise you.” Again, he takes the lead, hands buried deep in his pockets to contain their warmth. He was humming a slow song under his breath. It looked like he was just casually strolling through a park.

None of you had been able to speak up for the next fifteen minutes, speaking to each other through exaggerated hand signals and eye movements. It was hard to keep yourself from laughing, muffling your wheezes with your robe’s sleeve. It didn’t help that Jake’s giggle was contagious.

Your aimless adventuring leads you both to a larger space among the maze of corridors, one side of the wall filled with endless rows of windows. Though the moon was covered entirely by storm clouds, lanterns outside the castle allowed for some light to bleed in.

You say nothing, walking up slowly to the window before pressing your hand against the glass. The glass that surrounded your fingers fogged up at the moment of heat being pressed against the cooler glass. You grinned and whispered, “I wish we could go outside.” It was stupid to say such a thing. The rain was probably bone-chilling… not to mention the creatures that could be lurking by the castle grounds.

Jake didn’t reply, not because he wasn’t listening, but he zoned out at the sight of you under the soft lighting. He was caught off guard; it was as if you were glowing in the darkness of this unknown place you both found yourself in. Even if he tried to say something back, he suddenly felt like his throat had been wrung out like some dishcloth.

He gulps in hopes to find his voice back. It works.

“Stunning,” Jake sighs out, only he wasn’t sure where he had been directing the comment. All he knows is that he hadn’t even taken a single glance outside.

“You’re right about something,” you replied, certainly oblivious of the fact that Jake hadn’t been talking about the view outside of the castle.

Before Jake could say anything else, footsteps approached from down the long hall, a sharp voice hissing, “Who’s down there!?”

Your head shooting towards Jake’s direction, eyes wide in both fright and shock. He had been looking back at you with a similar expression. Your hearts were racing, and just by the look in your eyes, it was obvious you were combing through what to do next.

Give in? No.

Run? Better.

As if Jake had the same train of thought, he grabbed your hand tightly, pulling for you to run down the opposite direction. It took effort trying to run light on your feet, afraid to look back in fear of being face to face with whoever professor was doing the nightly run-through of the castle. Jake ran blindly, trying his best to spot a door that happened to be open.

“I can hear you!” The professor sounded much closer, which only caused you both to run faster.

When you encountered a sudden extension into another hallway, Jake took the path as an opportunity, in desperate need of losing the professor. She was too close.

Being dragged by the boy allowed you to have a better look at what you were passing. “Jake over here!” You finally spot a door that has been opened by a jar. Jake had missed it completely. His head turned to look at the doors on his left rather than his right. You tugged at this arm to direct him towards the opened door. It didn’t take him long to respond, quickly moving his feet towards it.

Slipping into the room, you shut the door quickly, making sure you didn’t slam it close. Hearing the lock gave you and Jake a sense of relief, causing you to lean back against the wooden door. Both of you had been breathing heavily, probably loud enough for the professor to hear. Still, luckily there weren’t any footsteps coming close to the room.

“Thank goodness,” he sighs out, hand coming up to his chest. He was slightly bent over, a bead of sweat rolling slowly down his forehead, “I had to keep my promise.” You didn’t know if he knew you could hear him. He seemed to be talking to the stone floor, voice barely above a whisper.

It was funny how neither of you had realized that you were still holding hands. It was probably the adrenaline running through your veins, the rush of the moment. It had probably been the sense of comfort it brought, being that you both were just about beneath the nose of the professor. When you both noticed that your hands were still in one another’s, both of your hands were drawn back in a state of panic, unsure whether or not it was fine to be holding a best friend’s hand like that.

“I think she’s gone,” Jake whispered, standing up straight. He fixed the hem of his sweater before pulling down his sleeves to create sweater paws.

You huffed, “She better be.”

The room was colder than the hall, dark, but not so dark that it was pitch black. Jake’s face was growing tired of squinting to see, but he could make out that the room was filled with odd furniture stacked upon each other carelessly. He wanted to see it all.

Drawing his wand, Jake stuck it in front of him and mumbled a spell he knew well, “Lumos.” The tip of the wand illuminated a white light, allowing both of you to see clearly. The size of the room was more evident now. It was bigger than you both initially thought, but it wasn’t a giant room either. It seemed to be an unused classroom.

Most of the objects were difficult to actually pick out. All that Jake could make out were desks and old blackboards. He skimmed over the premises of the room, guiding his wand to light it all up for him. That’s when he stops.

Jake’s attention was drawn to a taller piece of furniture, the top resembling a throne of some sort. It was a mirror, the frame gleaming specks of gold depending on how the light bounced off it. At the top of the mirror’s glass was some kind of message, though Jake ignored it as it seemed like it was written in a different language, “Look, Y/N.”

You turn your head to look from the other side of the room, interested in the smaller, more detailed pieces of furniture. Jake pointed his wand at the mirror, brows raised in curiosity.

“Wow~” You say wryly, “A mirror.” Turning your head back to the small, carved egg, you shake your head.

He clicks his tongue, “Do you think it’s a magic mirror?”

“I know we’re wizards,” you snorted, “But not everything’s magic. I bet you that’s just an ordinary mirror. Why would it be in here if it was a magic mirror?”

“Let me see something,” Jake fixates himself in the centre of the mirror’s view. He stared back at his reflection for a brief moment and confidently spoke, “Mirror mirror on the wa…ll? Who’s the handsomest of them all?”

Putting the egg down, you approach him from behind but slightly to his left so that you can see yourself in the mirror. Despite waiting for an answer, nothing happened.

"It works!" Jake exclaims, smiling to the point you could see the smile lines on his cheeks. Your heart jumps at his genuine smile, especially with the way he turns back to look at this reflection.

"Jake," you laughed, "You're ridiculous." This time you bring yourself to stand next to him. The mirror didn't look like it was ordinary, but nothing was happening. The reflection only revealed the both of you, like any other mirror in the muggle world, "It's just an average mirror."

Jake sighs, a bit disappointed that he wouldn't be able to add this to his list of Hogwarts adventures, "I guess you're right." At this moment, you yawn. Jake takes notice and tugs at your robe's sleeve, "Let's go back. You're tired."

Though you still wanted to stay a bit longer to explore the room, your mind tells you to nod, eyes suddenly growing heavy, "Lead the way."

Jake opens the door for you, looking both ways before letting you out first. Before he closes the door shut, he takes one last glance at the mirror, making sure he's taken a mental picture of it.

*✲ﾟ*｡⋆

"Why do you both look out of it?" Jay was sitting at the Gryffindor table, despite being dressed in his green and silver knitted sweater. The room's atmosphere had been pleasantly quiet if you disregarded Riki and his goal to annoy his fellow housemate. It was about an hour after breakfast, and with the poor weather, no one was in the mood to go to Hogsmeade.

The third Slytherin, Sunoo, looks up from his textbook and snorts. He points to Jake, "You look like you've thrown up slugs and you—" You give Sunoo a keen look, which causes him to rethink what he had been planning to say, "You look like you've been blessed by the power of Merlin… that means—uh—beautiful by the way." He hurries his attention back to what he was studying, hiding behind his robe's sleeve.

"We were exploring the castle last night," Jake replied, eyes blinking to keep them lubricated, "We were almost caught by a professor."

"Who?" Jay asked.

You shrugged, "I didn't recognize her voice. We ran before we could even get a glimpse of her."

"Brightside," Jake points out, "We stumbled into a room full of antiques and there was a magic mirror." A sly smirk had found its place in his mouth as he told an exaggerated story. A sense of pride overcame him, and he crossed his arms, watching his friends all lean in to hear more.

“What did it do?” Riki stopped picking on Jay, eyes wide. Because who didn’t want to hear about a magic mirror? You chose to speak up to see where this was going, slightly amused with the reactions of the others.

“I—” Jake looks side to side, as if it were some deep, dark secret only purebloods were privileged to hear, “I asked the mirror who was the handsomest of them all and the mirror showed an image of me!”

The three listeners grumbled at Jake’s ridiculousness, Jay even going an extra mile to give him a hard smack on the back, “Sim, I swear on my grandma’s grave… please don’t tell me you started that question with ‘mirror, mirror, on the wall’?”

“He did,” you snorted.

“What did it look like?” Sunoo ignored the fact that he had basically walked into this, “I think I’ve read something about a mirror in this book.” He began to flip through it, eyes moving rapidly to keep up with the flipping pages.

Jake could recall the mirror’s image as if he were looking at it, “There were three short pointed pillars on top. It was arch-shaped and it was tall… the frame was painted–”

“Gold?” Sunoo interrupted. He pushes his book towards you and Jake, “Did it look like this?”

You and Jake inch closer together, head bent down over the aging book Sunoo had been reading for class. At first glance, the sketch of the mirror looked nothing like the mirror they had seen in real life. But upon closer observation, the identical unmistakable message at the top of the mirror gave away that it was the same mirror.

“That’s it!” Jake gasped. His eyes went to search for the object’s name, but Sunoo pulled the book back to himself.

He read aloud, “The Mirror of Erised… There is no known creator and the mirror was created in the nineteenth century… Wait, I’m skipping to what it’s power is….” Sunoo pauses, using his finger to help him skim the pages, aware that four other people are curious about what the mirror does. “The mirror reveals the deepest desires of those who look into it. Erised, shown in the reflection of a mirror, reads Desire… The message carved across the superior end of the mirror reads ‘Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.’” Sunoo had butchered the message, a sheepish expression appearing on his face before he continued, “Which translates to ‘I show not your face but your heart’s desire’ in its reflection. An individual who obtains all the happiness in the world will see only their reflection.”

You and Jake lean back slightly, puzzled by the mirror’s abilities. The mirror didn’t seem to show any trace of power. It had simply acted as a mirror… it was evident in Jake’s horrible Snow White joke.

“So?” Jay had his head tilted to the side out of curiosity, “What did you guys see?”

There was a lingering silence when the three boys looked at you and Jake expectedly, waiting for some kind of exciting response.

“Jake probably saw himself winning the League cup,” Riki poked Jake in the side.

“That’s your deepest desire,” Sunoo jeered, side-eyeing the younger wizard, “But then again, Jake loves quidditch as much as Riki does.”

The gears were turning rather quickly in your head; if it had been doing so in yours, Jake’s gears were probably turning twice as fast.

“Go on…” Sunoo gestured, “Tell us.”

Jake laughed nervously, afraid to look at you, “You know, it’s a bit funny….”

“What is?” Jay questioned.

You spoke up, “Our reflections stared back at us as if we were simply looking into a muggle’s mirror.”

There was another pause between the five of you, understanding of this magic mirror in shambles.

“The mirror couldn’t have been broken, could it? Maybe that was why the mirror was stored in that room,” Jake said in a hushed tone.

“Can magic mirrors even break?” Riki doubted it was, “If it wasn’t completely broken, the mirror itself is probably fine.”

So what did this mean?

The third moment of silence.

If the mirror wasn’t broken or drained of its magic (if that was even possible), then why did you just see each other?

I show not your face but your heart’s desire.

Then it clicked. Not just in Jake’s muddled brain but also in yours. It was an obvious answer, but both of you hesitated to come to such a conclusion because a broken magical mirror seemed much more believable than this. For a brief second, you both glanced at each other as if you had somehow communicated the only viable answer.

You were each other’s deepest desire.

#idk how tf I wrote this even with school having me in a choke hold #maybe it’s the lowkey deadline I had #enhypen #sim jaeyun #jake sim #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #sim jaeyun imaginess #sim jaeyun scenarios #jake sim imagines #jake sim scenarios #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #sim jaeyun x reader #jake sim x reader #enhypen x reader

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binniesthighs · 3 years

Text

dear anon, sweet anon, thank you so much for requesting this <3 i didn’t know that i needed it in my life and now...here it is;) IT WAS SO FUN hehe

melt in your mouth | reader x jisung

Pairing: self insert, gender neutral reader x han jisung

Genre: that good good smut

Summary: After hearing a rather interesting story about a certain brand of chocolate aphrodisiacs, your curiosity gets the best of you and your friend’s roommate, Jisung.....a spin off of bites like bittersweet

Word count: 3.7k

*photocreds to OP!

{see below for tags, nsfw and warnings!}

Tags: aphrodisiac au, somewhat friends to lovers, hints of mutual pining, bestfriend!seungmin, seungmin’sroommate!jisung, hardswitch!jisung, hardswitch!reader, explicit language, mentions of food/eating, hand stuff (r &m), degredation, petnames, dirty talk, unprotected sex (stay safe cuties), creampie, voyeurism, and we love a plot twist ;)

~💋~

two flavors seemed excessive. one flavor seemed like just enough. you didn’t want to break the bank or anything on something that was likely crappy quality or potentially psychedelic; even worse, it could be both.

“and you want to try these with me why?” seungmin pushed his wire-framed glasses up his nose bridge and scrunched it up. he inspected the paper wrapper with a skeptical glare. the design itself was anything but trustworthy: in swirly cursive pink font, the name Cherri Amore and under it, a absurdly large lipstick mark with the outline of a couple doing what must have been fucking “spread eagle.”

seungmin muttered, leaning over the counter of the dingy kitchen he shared with his roommates, “proven aphrodiasiac and libido booster...? y/n, sorry, i just--i’m fucking lost here--”

“--ever heard of trying something for the hell of it seung??” you snatched the bar from his hand. “the review that i read online said that it made them crazy fucking horny, so much so that they fucked their best friend of something like five years or something like that. isn’t that insane?!”

your best friend’s eyes blew out with his mouth aghast, “what the hell?? shit--of course you’d find something insane on the internet like this and drag me into it...”

in your incredulous laugher, you threw your neck back so hard it hurt a little. “loosen up! it’s probably a scam or something. plus...if it does work on us...don’t act like i haven’t caught you in the act before...”

seungmin, ever the angel, flushed a shade of fuchsia you thought inhumanly possible for someone to attempt. “that-that wasn’t--that wasn’t what you thought it was!!!” he cast away the chocolate bar as if it were his dick on the very night that you had walked in on something that was supposedly not what it looked like.

“relax!” you punched your embarrassed friend on the arm which he dramatically rubbed into. “it’s not a sin to jerk off or anything. hell, i do it....obviously.”

seungmin chuckled out unsteadily, “well, um, what if it does work then, what do we do?”

you snickered, “ha! hell if i know. cross that bridge when we get there?”

“so what you’re saying is...this could either be a massive waste of our time, or, both of us get so stupidly turned on that we decide to have sex....with eachother?”

“that’s the gist i’m getting.” you took to the corner of the shiny pink paper wrapping at the corner. “but...who said that we had to fuck or anything...?”

from fuchsia to nearly scarlet, seungmin averted his eyes at the speed of light.

“seung!!! do you have something to tell me?!” your teasing grin spread wide and you lifted your hand to give your adorable friend a clap on the back.

“i’m just repeating what you said!!”

you broke the bar open, cracking off the first square on the counter with a solid snap. with a smirk, you offered it to your friend. he reached out, only to nearly jump out of his skin when the old-timey ringtone from his phone erupted in the hollow kitchen.

“shit.” he murmured under his breath, pulling it out and immediately pressing the call button upon seeing the caller. “h-hello? yeah? wait, wait...slow down...the cultures did what?! and you have to start over?? shit--”

before you could have anything to do with it, your friend was already throwing on his sneakers and sky blue raincoat. “sorry, y/n but i have to go. that was my co-worker, they said that something went bad with the incubator, and all of the cultures are ruined, and there’s the stupid lab meeting in the morning--”

“i’m gonna pretend that i understood everything you said.” you hung at the doorway to the kitchen, observing him trip over pairs of shoes and other random-ass college-aged boy items. “you only get a pass because i have a feeling that the coworker we’re talking about here is the cute one.”

your friend rolled his eyes, mouthing a reluctant, “yes.”

“fine then. we can try the chocolates another time.”

“fine--sure--” seungmin grabbed for the handle, “sorry. again.”

~💋~

you felt like the chocolate bar was taunting you, just sitting there opened with two squares all ready for the eating. oddly, you really couldn’t figure out exactly why you had wanted to try them in the first place. for a second, the guilt and loneliness started to seep through and it felt sticky, pathetic, and stung like thorns right into your breaths.

“fuck it.” you whispered under your breath, swiping them all up and walking over to the trash can.

“whatcha got there?” a voice entered the room attached to one of seungmin’s roommates, jisung.

the two of you had met many times in passing, and you had shared enough small talk to consider him somewhat of an acquaintance. from what you had gathered about the boy, he spent much too much time in his room working on his animations and was the dictionary definition of one of those cocky-assholes you had a soft spot for.

“jisung--hey. it’s...it’s nothing. something stupid that i blew my money on.”

“let me see.” he crossed the room, looking wired and overtired as usual.

from staring at his screen for so long his eyes bagged with dark circles, but somehow it made him look mischievous, or something like that. his muscle tank had been cut low to reveal his sides and ribs which flared when he grabbed for the bar of chocolate.

“huh.” he scoffed, “i’ve seen like, infomercials for these things. you were going to try it?”

“yeah...i-i mean--no...i was.”

“what’s stopping you? not curious anymore?”

“window of opportunity passed.”

“i don’t think so.” he grinned, matter of a fact. “i like chocolate.”

you couldn’t quite believe what was being said to you at first. jisung, the boy that you barely knew, was standing there with his goofy heart-shaped smile and all, holding libido boosters and asking you to take them with him.

“you do know what those are, right? what they could do?”

immediately, he popped one in his mouth, nearly like it was a challenge. “empahsis on the “could.””

he held them closer to you, prompting you to take the remaining square which was flecked with little red hard-candy looking bits.

“fine then. you’re right. what they could do.” you downed the candy, crunching it and finding that the quality was certainly not a guarantee. the thing itself tasted halfway between a tootsie roll and cold medicine. “fuck.”

jisung laughed, throwing the rest of the bar away.

“what did you that for?”

“i’m guessing whether they work or not, you might not need them anymore.”

your friend’s roommate slicked his hair back, and ruffled it over his dark eyes. his face was slightly puffed with exhaustion, but it didn’t make him any less handsome.

“so we wait now?” you asked, glancing at the clock.

“wanna order some food or something?” he smacked his lips, “i need a fucking chaser after that.”

~💋~

you didn’t know what time it was; late, probably. after a couple hours of realizing that nothing was really going to happen to you or your friend’s roommate, you had decided to stop expecting it. although, you had kind of hoped...

the sofa that the boys shared was just about as comfortable as you had remembered it. it was large enough to hold you and seungmin’s two roommates on better days, but, once again, random-ass college-boy stuff cluttered at least half of it. it was one of those “dumpster finds” and kind of smelled like a grandma’s house, but honestly, that was what made it so comfortable.

the tv carried on, playing some kind of animated movie that jisung had chosen claiming that the director was some kind of “god of animation and storytelling.” you liked the colors, but soon you felt yourself being lulled and drowsy: your head felt heavy simply resting on your shoulders.

your eyelids fogged, and the sounds from the tv set started to fade into inexistence. beside you, jisung had crossed his arms, but the lack of space had pressed both of your thighs together, and the warmth from his leg started to wash over your drowsy state. your head bobbed, swayed...then fell, directly onto his shoulder. had you been more lucid, you would have cared more.

“oh--” he jumped slightly, and shifted awkwardly.

the room darkened and soon all you could see was the thin line of light that your half-open eyes allowed.

“this-this can’t be comfortable for you.” jisung hushed and clicked the tv off. “hey, you should be heading to bed anyway, it’s late.”

“are you kicking me out, jisung?” you babbled, not really aware of your own words.

your friend’s roommate chuckled, straightening his posture to support you. “i’m not gonna make you walk back to your place at this time of night.”

“it’s only a couple of blocks--”

“--you’ve slept over here before, haven’t you?”

you stretched out your arms with a little squeak.

“yeah. on the couch.”

“you...can’t do that. you’d have to sleep in a fucking corkscrew if you did that.”

“yeah, i know.” you giggled, now finding yourself in a kind of stupor that made you wonder if the chocolates really were doing their job. “i’ll just take seung’s bed then--”

“--he’s! not back...yet.” jisung hugged his arms to himself. “i dunno, shouldn’t he have his bed when he comes back?” he cleared his throat, composing himself. “of course, there’s space in my bed if you’d like.”

“me? sleep with you?”

“yes, with me.” just as he had before, that little challenging edge coated his tone, “only if you’re comfortable i mean. i guess that i’m forgetting that the most that the two of us have shared yet is some wack-ass chocolate so, i shouldn’t be making any assumptions.”

“no, no!” you pounced off from the couch, reaching high to the ceiling to stretch out your sore back next. and, perhaps to let your shirt tuck up just a little bit as you did so. “i don’t have a problem with it.”

jisung nodded, grinning in the half-lit room, cleaning away to-go boxes. you had noticed before, but the way that his triceps tensed when he moved around was really just a little too distracting.

“you can head on in, but--be quieter about it. jeongin is sleeping in here.”

you clicked off a sleepy salute, following the hall down exactly where you had known his room to be, but you had never entered it before. it didn’t surprise you, but it was just as messy as the rest of the place was, and you had to tip-toe around god-knows what to find your way.

after tripping on something soft and sort of damp, (which you prayed was a shower-towel) you made your way to jisung and his face illuminated by the blue-glow of his phone screen where he had immediately jumped in bed after navigating through the room much more skillfully than you had.

“you have an issue if i sleep in my underwear?” you asked, realizing.

jisung paused, wide eyed, but quickly fell back into his casual and cocky smirk. “i mean, that’s basically what i’m doing so...”

“scooch over. i hope you’re not a blanket hogger or anything.”

the bed was already pleasantly warm from jisung having occupied it. it would have felt amazing if you had been as tired as you had been moments ago, but now your entire body felt horribly wide-awake.

“--and if you start to snore, i’m leaving you for the couch, got it?”

jisung let out an airy laugh, shifting and creaking the bed a bit under him, “i don’t snore...for your information.”

with the blankets pulled up to your nose, you turned to lay on your back, eyes finally adjusting to the darkness of the room. above you, the faint green glow of glow-in-the-dark stars sprinkled across the ceiling, making up constellations: from what you could make out, the big dipper was above jisung’s bed, and the little one was above jeongin’s, who peacefully slept with tiny breaths.

jisung rolled to the side, accidently brushing his bare leg against yours.

“night, y/n. sorry the chocolates didn’t work out. would’ve been kind of hilarious if they did.”

“psh.” you rolled over too, closing your eyes, “you saying you would’ve taken up the opportunity to get in my pants?”

“guess we’ll never know.” he sighed.

~💋~

birds chirped, signaling the coming sunrise what was nearly breaking upon the horizon, and filled with deep blue sky with a type of orange-glow. the room was dim and stuffy, and noticeably much hotter than you remembered it being before. over the course of the night, you had tangled your legs with the sheets, finding them trapping you between them, and you shuffled to escape them and feel the air hit your skin. they shifted, letting you feeling the sticky mess between your legs.

“what the--” the aching and heated desire made itself painfully obvious, soaking directly through your underwear, making a wet mess of them where you throbbed with an utterly unexplainable arousal that reverberated in your core.

the friction from your legs only heightened the sensation, and you found yourself unwillingly rutting down into the mattress just to feel an ounce of relief.

fuck, the chocolates, you recalled. while you had expected to feel something from them, this was twenty times more intense than anything you could have planned for.

you were like an animal in heat, vulnerable, weak, dazed. your body set ablaze, and it only made sense to strip of any and all clothing that held you back. in your own desperation, you had completely forgotten about the man resting next to you.

“y/n? what's--what are you doing?” jisung groggily croaked in a tone several octaves lower than you were accustomed to. your brain could only calculate it is as downright, unbelievably sexy.

“jisung, i’m fucking burning up, an-and, i think i’m finally feeling something....are you?”

he hadn’t noticed it at first until he did, but from where he could see where the blanket dipped all the way down to your waist, you were completely bare. with fluttering eyes, he gulped down dry. you noticed the way that he took you all in, looking at every inch of you. you reveled in how he greedily and shamelessly didn’t stop.

under the covers, his own legs twisted.

“me too.” he answered gravely, speaking with a low whisper.

carefully, his tentative touch advanced under the covers, slowly reaching to your bare hip, where he settled a testing caress, squeezing harder, then cascaded down the small of your back to make you shiver. your own hand did the same, instead finding his leg and creeping your hand up and under his shirt. little space existed between the two of you, and only the panting of your heavy inhales and exhales could be heard.

your eyes glued to his, beautifully brown and dilating, trembling a little while holding yours. from his light touches, it took every bit of your will to control yourself from launching over him. jisung’s hand fell lower, and toyed with the elastic band of your underwear which had started to feel painfully confining. each of your own fingers traveled up his torso, brushing over his chest which made his whole body shake.

“sh-shit, i’m so fucking--” jisung started, dropping off his words to let out a wavering sigh. you didn’t need to guess any further.

jisung slid two fingers under your elastic band, and it became too much to handle.

“please, touch me jisung.” you whined out pitifully, clawing directly into the soft muscles of his back.

you were shocked how quickly he had given into you, immediately crashing his lips against yours first, then using both arms to pull you into his chest so close it stole all of your breath away. you kissed him back roughly, ravenous to feel the sensation of his mouth against your own. he growled out a small groan directly into your lips, sloppily working every single corner and edge of your mouth with a devilish smile curling his own.

lower, both of your hips met flush, grinding and twisting to create the kind of pressure that the both of you craved. limbs twisted, sweating and heated skin mingled, and you could feel every bit of his hardened cock right against your own arousal and how his shaft throbbed helplessly.

“you taste so good.” he murmured between haphazard kisses, letting his low tone vibrate against you.

“take these off.” you ordered, tugging at his boxers, nearly taking them off yourself.

“take yours off.” he echoed, and you did.

curious hands plunged deeper, delighting fingers in the slick of the other’s cum.

“fuck.” jisung dragged the explicative over your lip where he lapped lazily into you. “don’t stop.”

you gave him a moment’s pause, stopping to wet your palm with saliva, then met it with his cock. you worked his length with the sharp and twisting turn of your wrist, causing him to whimper out shamelessly.

“shhh.” you hissed, pulling his lip with our teeth, “don’t want to wake up your roommate do we?”

he nodded, biting each and every tantalizing little sound into his lip instead. your own breaths grew shallow feeling the pressure from his hand between your legs and how he had grabbed into your thigh to swing it over his hip for better access.

“wouldn’t you like me to fuck you out, baby? fuck you like the good little cock whore that you are for me? i’ve seen the way that you look...you’ve wanted this...haven’t you?” jisung’s words were slick and luxurious despite their bite.

to suppress the begging moan in your throat, you cupped your hand over your mouth, and pressed hard into it.

the blanket tented from your pulling at his cock and how you rubbed over his slit: it was an ethereal sight even in the blurriness of the room.

slowly, you leaned over to his ear, waist rocking back and forth over the sensation of his hand rubbing into you relentlessly. “don’t lie baby, you want my ass bouncing on your cock...don’t you?”

in one movement, he swept his full body weight over yours and harshly pulled your legs back to open your entrance just for him to tease with his tip. he guided himself in slowly and meticulously, bottoming out once you had sunk your fingers into his shoulders to manage some of the screams you would have let out otherwise.

“fuck yes, baby.” jisung growled, finding an animalistic pace that burned your whole body with white flames of pleasure.

you grew impatient wondering furiously what his cute little pouty cheeks would look like when you fucked him from above, riding his dick. you wouldn’t wait any further, taking your grasp on his shoulders to then flip him, settling your hips over his dick which you pounced on to the tune of one of his moans slipping past, loud and guttural.

“shut. the fuck. up.” you scolded him, throwing your hand over his pretty mouth. he whimpered out once again, eyes rolling feeling the tip of his dick reach as deeply inside of you as you would let it. “cum inside me sungie, i won’t stop until I have every last drop.”

jisung nodded, chest flaring as his breaths quickened.

“cum for me baby, and i’ll cum for you...got it?” your breathy whispers scratched your throat, but you needed him to hear.

you held his eyes which glistened with two pretty little tears that fell as he came hard, shaking with his whole body and letting each of his gleeful moans come spiraling into your hand.

your own heat came surging, right at your core, growing....growing...

a lamplight flashed on.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? WHAT THE--WHAT THE--”

jeongin threw his sheets over his eyes, while shuddering. “I WAS FUCKING SLEEPING!!”

his shrill scream sent you jumping out of your lust, and you scrambled off jisung’s throbbing and pink cock, and forgetting the force of gravity, which sent his cum dripping out from inside of you. in your panic, you grabbed at anything to cover up your body and his, only to get so tangled that you lost your balance on the edge of the bed and.....

~💋~

THUMP

your body hit the wooden floor of jisung and jeongin’s room, right on your butt where you knew that it would be hurting for weeks.

as disoriented as you were, it took you a good few minutes to realize what had actually just happened.

“y/n?” jisung called with his groggy half-awake, half-asleep tone. “did you just fall out of the bed?”

on the opposite side of the room, you whipped your head over to see jeongin still peacefully sleeping with his back turned to jisung’s bed.

“fuck--um, yeah. i did. shit...”

jisung chuckled in the dark room just barely peeking with the first bits of the sunrise in streaming into the room.

“i don’t know how you did that considering i gave you plenty of space. get back up here.”

still dazed and brain overheating, you could have sworn you felt the little aftershocks of the orgasm that felt so real still coursing through your body.

you felt it too: the way that your underwear had slicked. some part of it all must’ve been real.

“jisung--” you started, not even sure if you wanted to tell him in the first place. “are you certain that you didn’t feel anything?”

jisung turned to face you and shook his head, “no, you?”

you hesitated, holding his eyes to see that he must have been telling the truth.

“i just...i just had this insane dream...”

“dream? about what?”

“it’s hard to explain...” you trailed.

“you look kind of shaken up, are you sure that you’re okay?” jisung extended a careful hand, and smoothed down the side of your face in the way that had felt frighteningly real only seconds ago. his hand lingered, falling down your neck and giving you goosebumps. your eyes fell to his lips, and you wondered if they would taste like you had imagined them to be.

you leaned in closer, closing the gap.

“it went something like this.”

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses!

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @lunarskzzz @yourdaddychan @bubblelixie @spnobsessedmemes @cherrychngkyn @iwanttobangchan @bowlofblueberries @lmhmins @eunaeiekim

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hangovercurse · 3 years

Text

Until You Fall Asleep

After moving in with the crew to help cure your quarantine boredom, you find a new way to deal with your insomnia.

Request: “Could you please do a Colson fanfic where you're a friend of the gang and you move into their house for quarantine so you're not alone. Colson finds out you have terrible insomnia and starts staying up to keep you company and you gradually start sleeping in his bed because it's the only place you seem to actually sleep. You start to get really close through these late night chats, watching films, sharing stuff and opening up to each other... Friendship starts to develop into something else. I need some fluff to see me through these sleepless nights! 🙏😘 Thanks!”

Colson X Reader

Warnings: cursing

Word Count: 3487

Living with your best friends during a nationwide quarantine seemed like a good idea when you agreed to it, but after the 5th night of wandering the huge house late at night because you couldn’t sleep, you were starting to think you should’ve stayed where you were. At least at your own place, you didn’t have to worry about sneaking around so as not to wake anyone up.

Luckily, no one seemed to notice that you woke up earlier than everyone else in the house or went to sleep later. Or if they did, no one said anything.

Day five

Tonight hadn’t been going so well. You had tried showering, you hadn’t eaten for at least a few hours before trying to sleep, you turned your lavender diffuser on, you’d even tried yoga. Nothing helped, and you were left staring at your ceiling.

Frustrated and uncomfortable, you rolled out of your bed, sock clad feet pattering across your room and slowly pulling your door open. You made your way through the house and out to the pool, letting the cool night air wash over you. A deep breath fell from your lips as you began to pace around the deck, hoping to tire yourself out enough to sleep.

After a few minutes, you heard the sliding glass door open, looking up and finding Colson stepping out with a blunt in his hand. He smiled tiredly at you, “you’re up early.”

You raised an eyebrow, “what time is it?” You figured it was 4, maybe 5 am.

“Almost 7,” he looked concerned, “you okay?”

You were trying to figure out how you managed to stay up until 7 am without a wink of sleep, “yeah, just couldn’t sleep. It’s cool though. Why are you up?”

Colson lit the blunt as he spoke, “couldn’t sleep either.”

Day eight

You found yourself curled up on the couch, reading a book at 5:30 in the morning after hours of trying to fall asleep. You swore if you stayed in your room a second longer, you’d break something, so you snuck out to the TV room with the most boring book you could find.

“Do you ever sleep?” Colson’s voice surprised you, making you jump lightly in your seat. The man chuckled at your reaction, taking a seat next to you.

You pouted at his glee, “I could ask you the same thing.”

He shrugged, “sleep is for the weak.”

A sarcastic chuckle fell from your lips, “oh yeah, I feel so strong and cool right now.”

The man laughed with you, but soon turned serious, “serious though, are you good? Both nights this week I haven’t slept you’ve been awake, and I know you don’t take naps.”

You sighed, “it’s just insomnia, I’ve been dealing with it on and off for a couple years now. It’s not a big deal.”

He cocked his head in curiosity and worry, “how much sleep have you been getting?”

You ducked your head in embarrassment, “I slept for an hour at like 3, hopefully I’ll fall asleep again at some point tonight.”

Colson frowned, “can I help at all?”

A small smile fell upon your face, “sometimes talking helps, but honestly not much else. It’s not that big of a problem, though. I’ve been dealing with this for a while, I’m used to it.”

He looked shocked, “dude, you sleep for a few hours every night! That’s a problem. I don’t even know how you’re still alive.”

“Like you’ve never gone a couple days in a row without sleeping,” you said sarcastically.

“No! I go to sleep late as fuck, but I sleep eventually most nights. You’re on a whole different level.” His tone was slightly defensive, if not concerned, “do I need to get you some pills or something? I can do that.”

Your eyes went wide, “Jesus, Kells, no. I have enough to deal with, I don’t need another addiction on my hands too.”

He chuckled, “I’m just saying it might help. I’m assuming weed does nothing?”

You sighed sadly, “it did for a while, but I think my body got used to it. I just have to wait it out until I inevitably pass out.”

“Well, guess I’ll just bother you until you fall asleep.” He relaxed further into the couch, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“Colson, you really don’t have to-“

“You won’t let me get you drugs, so I’m gonna stay up with you. It’s the least I can do.” He smiled widely, knowing he would get his way.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that, right?”

Day Twelve

“You think that Captain America has the best character arc? Seriously?”

Your nightly chats with Colson had moved into his room after Baze was woken up by Colson’s loud laughter during a conversation about what type of dogs you’d both be. So, you were sat cross legged on his bed, facing each other in deep conversation.

The man tried to defend his stance to you, “okay, I know everyone loves Tony’s whole asshole to hero thing, but Captain America went from this goody two shoes to this badass criminal and he still got the girl in the end.”

You shook your head, “you’re just wrong in every way. I’m not even saying Iron Man had a better story, but literally every other character developed more than Steve. He wasn’t that badass in the end, and the fact that he went back to get the girl just proves he never really changed all that much. He was static.”

“So, you’re telling me, if we watched every single movie with Captain America in it, you wouldn’t be entertained?” He crossed his arms and leaned backwards, eyeing you challengingly.

You scoffed, “the movies are fine, I just think that Marvel has produced better superheroes with better plotlines.”

“New plan, we’re going to watch every marvel movie in order and then you can tell me that I’m right.” He grabbed the remote and turned on the TV across from his bed.

Rolling your eyes, you moved back to lean against the headrest, legs spread out in front of you, “you’re not right, but I’ll watch them just to see the look on your face when you realize you’re wrong.”

Colson flopped down on the bed next to you, throwing an arm over your shoulder and pulling you so that you were leaning into his side. A yawn escaped his mouth, “if you get tired, let me know.”

You giggled, “I’m always tired, I just can’t sleep. I won’t get offended if you fall asleep though.”

He pulled a face, “I’m not falling asleep.”

About an hour into the movie the slow rise and fall of his chest indicated differently. You chuckled to yourself once you realized he had fallen asleep, turning further into his chest, and allowing yourself to get more comfortable.

Somewhere between 4 and 5 am, you found your eyes finally closing of their own accord, unconsciousness washing over you.

Day 17

Since starting your marvel movie binges with Colson, you’d found yourself getting more sleep. You couldn’t tell if it was from the movies or from Colson, but either way something seemed to be working.

Tonight, however, even your new routine wouldn’t lull you to sleep. You tried every breathing exercise in the book, but nothing seemed to work. Colson had fallen asleep a while ago, his arm wrapped around you as per usual, so you couldn’t talk yourself to sleep.

So, you decided to take a stroll around the house, hoping the small form of physical activity would help. But in order to get out of bed, you would have to find a way out of Colson’s embrace without waking him up.

You slowly and gently grabbed his hand and removed it from your side, laying it on the bed next to you. Then, you sat up slowly, only to be pulled back into his chest, “where’re you going?”

His voice was deep and gravelly, sleepiness very evident. You responded with a whispered, “I can’t sleep, was gonna go walk around.”

He pulled you in closer to him, nuzzling his face into the crown of your head, “but you’re so warm.”

You chuckled, cuddling into the man, “fine, I’ll stay.” You tried to close your eyes and find sleep, but again, none came. Sighing, you accepted that you would be stuck in your current position, realizing there were worse things than being wrapped up in a beautiful boy’s arms.

Day 25

“I know aliens probably exist, but do you think they’d ever take one of us to study?”

Colson chuckled at your question, “like a human in general or, like, you and me?”

“Like you or me. Do you think we’re important enough to be studied?”

He squeezed your waist, “I think you are in desperate need of sleep.”

Laughing, you responded, “I’m serious! And I have been sleeping, thank you very much.”

“Okay, fine. I think if aliens ever came to Earth, they’d probably be more interested in, like, genius billionaires or really dumb people, like people from Florida.”

You slapped his arm, “don’t be mean to Florida.”

You could feel the vibrations from his laughter, making you giggle. “Fine, but my point is they wouldn’t be interested in us unless they’re really into music.”

“Darn,” you huffed.

He raised an eyebrow at you, “you want aliens to take you and study you?”

Balancing yourself on his chest, you lifted yourself up to look down at him, “yes! That would be so fucking cool.”

He shook his head with a laugh, “you’re crazy.”

“Think about it, who else would be able to say they got studied by aliens. And then you’d know that you were important to someone, even if it is just alien scientists.”

Rolling his eyes, Colson pulled you back down into him, your hands still resting on his chest, “I don’t need aliens to know I’m important.”

“Well not all of us can be ubertalented rock stars with millions of fans,” you joked, a teasing smile on your face.

You glanced up to find his eyes trained on you, holding a softer look in them than you had expected, “I didn’t mean that.”

It took a few moments for his words to get processed by your brain, but you immediately dismissed the thought that he could be talking about you specifically. More than likely he was referencing his family in general, which you could be included in.

Day 31

To celebrate a full month in quarantine, the guys had decided to throw an in-house only party, which just meant that everyone had an excuse to drink together more than normal. You were staying mostly sober, knowing that otherwise the boys would most likely break something, most likely themselves.

You watched from your place on the kitchen counter as Rook, Baze, Slim, Dre, Irv, Dub, and Colson played a round of King’s cup.

“Y/N, you have to drink,” Rook called from across the room, “it’s a six.”

“If there’s no women playing then you just skip that card, Rookie.” You called but took a sip from your cup anyways.

Colson whined, “this is boring.” You chuckled as he moved away from the table to come stand by you, the rest of the guys continuing without him. He leaned against the counter next to your dangling leg, letting you run your fingers through his blond hair, “parties are boring now, Y/N.”

You could tell that he was gone, the alcohol having almost full control of him. “When we get out of quarantine, we’ll throw the biggest party ever, Kells,” you said, letting your hand fall to rest on his shoulder. The man grasped your hand in his and moved it back up to the top of his head, silently begging for you to continue. He turned into a cat, practically purring as he leaned into you, “hey, Kells, you tired?”

He shook his head, “no, ‘m gonna stay up with you, remember?”

You laughed softly, “it’s okay, Kells. You should get some sleep; I’ll be okay for a night.”

His arms wrapped around your middle, head burying into your stomach, “I’ll go to sleep if you do.”

“You gotta let me off this counter for that.” This was a side of Colson you rarely saw; the drunk, very cuddly version of Colson. Occasionally he’d cling on to you when he got really tired, but that was in the privacy of his room. Here he was hanging onto you in front of all his friends, though granted they were too drunk to notice anything unusual.

You hopped off the counter, taking on some of Colson’s body weight in order to get him up the stairs and to his room. Truthfully, you planned to leave him in his bed once you got him there, but he had other plans. As soon as you moved to walk away from the bed, he grabbed your arm sleepily, “why are you leaving?”

Running a hand along his jaw softly, you softly said, “I’m gonna go to my room.”

He whined, “you never sleep in your room, stay.”

You bit your lip, unsure how to respond to that, “Kells, you’re drunk, you need some sleep.”

“I can’t sleep without you.” His eyes were glazed over, making his pleading look even more appealing than normal.

Sighing, you muttered, “yes, you can. I’ll be right down the hall,” but he wasn’t taking no for an answer, hand still firmly around your wrist.

“No.”

You rolled your eyes, climbing into the bed next to him, “I’m only doing this because you need to go to sleep.” He hummed in response to that, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tightly into him, leaving no room for you to escape even if you tried.

Day 37

Nights with Colson had slowly turned into every moment with Colson. You woke up together, ate breakfast together, spent time together. You were rarely separated for long, not that either of you minded.

At some point, the line between friends and whatever lied next had gotten blurred, but not fully crossed. You and Colson were touchy and cuddly during the day as well as at night, and everyone in the house was starting to notice it.

Part of you just wanted to kiss him and see what happened, but you knew messing with a situation like this could go very wrong very fast. So, you just left it up to him to figure out where this thing would go, knowing he probably wouldn’t make the first move either.

But as you laid in his arms, listening to his midnight ramblings, you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if you took matters into your own hands. You watched his lips move as he spoke, wanting nothing more than to lean up and press your own against them. Of course, you would never actually do it, but it was nice to dream.

There was a lull in the conversation which was spent with your eyes dancing across each other’s face, trying to figure out what to say next. Suddenly, he blurted out, “can I get your advice on something?”

You nodded in response, a soft smile on your face. He continued, “this sounds so stupid, but there’s this girl I’ve been talking to recently and I can’t figure out if she ‘s into me or we’re just really good friends.”

You sat up slightly, perking an eyebrow up, “well what signs has she given you that she’s into you?” Your heart burned, hoping he was talking about you. It was a feeling that had been happening a lot recently whenever you were around him, which was almost all the time.

He sighed, “I mean, we talk like, all the time about everything. And I think she flirts with me, but I’m not completely sure if she’s flirting or she’s just being friendly.”

“Well, what signs say that she’s not into you?” You ask, biting your lip to hide the grin forming on your face.

Colson hesitated, “I mean, none, really. I’m just scared of messing up our friendship, you know?”

You nodded, “well, you’ll never know if you never ask her. I’m sure it’ll work out.”

He was quiet for a long time, clearly turning the advice over in his head, “I would but, with quarantine and everything, I just don’t think it’s the right time. We wouldn’t be able to actually, you know.”

Your heart fell, realizing that there was no possible way he was talking about you. It felt like every bone in your body turned to Jell-o at the realization, a lump forming in your throat. “Right, well, maybe you could invite her over to the house. Or do a cute facetime date or something.”

He nodded but stayed quiet. You fully sat up, swinging your legs off the bed. “Where are you going?” he asked softly.

Something inside of you was slowly crumbling, and you needed to get yourself out of his presence as soon as possible, “I just need to take a walk, I don’t think I’m tired enough to get any form of sleep.”

Colson let out a small “oh,” as you stood up and swiftly left the room, tears forming in your eyes.

You felt silly for letting yourself fall so easily and for thinking that he might have felt the same way. But you could’ve sworn there was something forming between you two.

And how had you never heard of this new girl? How long had that been going on?

So many thoughts swirled around in your head as you made your way downstairs and out to the empty pool deck, pacing the familiar space. You tried to convince yourself that your feelings weren’t as strong as they actually were so that this could somehow be easier, but you knew it wouldn’t work.

The sound of the door sliding open caught your attention, your eyes meeting those all too familiar blue ones. “You okay?” he asked, leaning against the wall of the house. You flashed him a fake smile with a nod. “This doesn’t have anything to do with what I just-”

“No, no,” you cut him off, “I’m just restless right now, needed to get some energy out.”

He nodded, watching you cautiously, “I’m actually super tired, so I’m gonna get some sleep. I’ll see you in a few?”

You nodded, knowing full well you had no intention of getting back into his bed, “yeah, goodnight.” You turned your head to the ground, studying the cement below your feet.

The door opened and shut, but when you looked back up, Colson was still standing outside, watching you. “I don’t know why I said that. There isn’t a girl in quarantine. Well, I mean, there is, but we wouldn’t not be able to see each other.”

Your head was spinning, trying to make sense of whatever he was saying. He kept talking, “I got nervous and chickened out and then you left and I felt like an idiot.” You looked up to him, confusion evident on your face as he continued on the borderline of rambling, “so I’m just gonna throw this out there and whatever happens, happens.”

You stared at him blankly, not fully processing his words or what was happening.

“Would you wanna go on a date with me? Or, like, whatever kind of date we can pull off here?”

Your eyes went wide in shock, the rollercoaster you had just been on emotionally twisting your mind. You didn’t speak for a few moments, making Colson nervous, but you finally got out a stuttered, “yes.”

He sighed in relief, “god I feel like such a teenager right now.”

You came back to your senses, narrowing your eyes at him, “do you realize the emotional turmoil you just put me through? I feel like I’m crazy!”

He chuckled, moving towards you, and wrapping his arms around your waist, “I know, I’m an asshole. But it was worth it, right?”

“I was literally rethinking my entire life out here,” you pouted, leaning into his touch.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

You rolled your eyes, “look who’s all Mr. confident now.”

The vibrations of his laugh shook your own body, “well, you said yes. This would be a completely different story if you had said no. Then I would be the one rethinking my entire life.”

You smirked teasingly, “I could always change my mind.”

He shook his head with a chuckle, “shut up.” His lips met yours, one hand reaching up to softly hold your jaw. You melted into the kiss, your arms moving to wrap around his neck loosely.

You pulled away slowly, a smile spread on your face, “this almost makes not being able to sleep worth it.”

Tag list:

@bakerkells @elviablo @iambashfulperson @sunflowerbebe107 @crystalbaby12 @stormrider505 @ticketstomydaydreams @mvrylee @daddyavesxx @pettyvxbes @prettydreamboy

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk fluff #machine gun kelly #colson baker imagine #colson imagine #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker fluff

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yourmcu · 4 years

Text

Mesmerized (iii)

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Request:

@lostaurorax said:

hii!! i love ur writing i was wondering if u could write a natasha x reader fic were reader is part of the guardians of the galaxy and they come to the compound and natasha is just starstruck but reader plays kinda hard to get and then just a bunch of fluff !

Word count: 2,138

A/n: notes at the end

Warnings: crash, mentions of explosion, swearing, space mission, soft!nat, quill’s a jerk

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Your departure from Earth made its one-year mark.

Natasha hasn’t felt like herself since you left. She’s known you for a few months but it felt like ages, it felt like she knew everything about you from the amount of time you spent together.

It’s not like you had a choice. The guardians needed you and of course you’re gonna be there for them too. They saved your ass countless of time and, well, they’re your family.

“Shit!”

Natasha frowns, leaning forward a bit from her sitting position. “What’s wrong?”

You fail to respond back. You curse once more in realization that you had no more ammo left in your guns, using your fire conjuring abilities is risky in this situation too, given on what type of creatures you're fighting.

Rocket is still determined to fight but you know he’s not gonna make it alive so you pick him up and sprint to your ship.

“I had it under control!” The raccoon yells.

“You’re kidding, right? The others already left!” You boom, fiddling with the buttons and levers of the ship to try and start it. The rattling of the monsters behind getting you frazzled. “Fucking-”

“Out of the way before you burn the controls, I got it.”

You go to the back part of the ship to reload all your weapons. You sigh in relief when Rocket managed to start the ship.

The mission went horribly wrong. People died and you were outnumbered. You almost set Groot on fire because of how overwhelmed you were, the fact that Quill was expressing how pissed he was at you didn’t help. Usually the team had every mission handled and sorted. You weren’t used to losing.

And you forgot Natasha is still connected to the call.

She just listens further. It's more silent than earlier so she figured you got away from whatever happened, but she's ready to try and help whatever it takes even though she's a thousand miles away.

“Quill’s not responding,” you frown, frantically searching the back of the ship for the backup weapons. “He must’ve turned his comms off. Can you contact the other ship there?”

“No, offline,” Rocket mumbles, more focused on getting the ship moving. “But geez, you and him have to sort things out.”

“I’m sorry-”

“Save it, we’re still being followed!” Rocket swerves in attempt to knock off the creatures - who're still actively chasing the spaceship. They could fly, and there are a lot. You couldn’t imagine anything like it.

You try your best to fight them off through the spacious hatch on top, but of course you have no match for all of them. You wish Thor was here. As far as you knew he's sorting Asgard things out with Valkyrie.

Every minute just gets worse. The flight gets unstable the more those creatures are catching up, you're surprised they're so determined to destroy both of you.

“Can you go any faster?!”

“I can’t, can I?!” Rocket's driving and pressing multiple buttons for the jump at the same time.

“Y/N,” Natasha calls out, hoping you could still hear her. “I can tell the team if you need any help-”

On your end, she just got more blasters and guns going off, orders flying between you and the raccoon.

“We need to shake them off, this ship’s not gonna handle them,” You say exasperated. “I’m gonna cause a distraction, got it? You need to get us out of here - anywhere - I don’t care how many jumps it takes!”

Rocket, as rare as it is, displays concern in his face, but he sighs and grips on the levers. “Ready when you are.”

You suck in a breath, letting out a huge burst of what seems like fire and just - heat, aiming at the creatures closest to the ship. It gets nearly all of them. The raccoon mutters a quick countdown, watching you fall unconscious from the hatch in the corner of his eye. He pushes the lever forward slowly, jumping to the one place he knows the both of you could get help.

Earth.

As soon as you let yourself go, Natasha loses the connection. The intensity of you using your powers like that might’ve affected it.

“God,” she mutters, pacing around her table, “Friday, you still have contact on that ship?”

“Yes, Ms. Romanoff,” the A.I responds, and for a moment, a huge explosion sounded somewhere in the forest near the compound. “...and they just landed. Would you like me to send you the exact coordinates?”

Of course Natasha doesn’t waste time to go out and find you. Thankfully Steve is around and was shaken by the sudden explosion too. It’s snowing, the forest covered with thick snow so it wouldn’t be hard to find wherever the ship crashed.

“She’ll be alright, Nat. We’ll find her.” Steve reassures.

Natasha’s breath hitches at the sight of the aircraft completely destroyed, pieces everywhere, she wasted no time to find you under all the rubble.

The unconscious raccoon isn’t hard to find, but you had it worse considering you were already out before the crash.

“Steve,” she states, walking over scraps and metal to get to you. You're sickly pale, giving Natasha the feeling that she's too late but she did feel a slight pulse. There’s blood on the side of your forehead but other than that,

“She’s freezing,” and it isn’t from the snow alone, she thought. You're colder than that. Natasha has an arm around your back and behind your knees, getting ready to carry you. “Steve, we-”

“I’ll call Bruce to get them sorted out. Try and find their stuff that’s not destroyed.” His tone is firm. He doesn’t wait for a response, gently grabbing you from her and strides back to the compound.

Natasha sighs. Almost everything she sees is unrecognizable except for a few complicated looking guns that definitely looks like Rocket’s and your bag you took on one of your dates. Biting the inside of her cheek, she opens it, sighing in relief when everything inside looked in order.

She finds a wallet-sized picture of both of you at a fair's photo booth. You always held onto it and kept it in your pocket most of the time that's why it looks worn out, probably from you holding it so much. This makes Natasha's heart ache, deciding to keep it for the meantime, carrying all your stuff that's left to the compound.

- You wake with a start. You're facing the clean white ceiling of the Avengers' med bay and you tilt your head to the side to see Natasha sleeping on a stool beside your bed with her head lulling forward and her arms are crossed. As much as you feel relieved to see her, you're confused on how you got here, how she found you. You lift your arm to gently pat the redhead awake. She sighs and goes to rub her neck. "You're cold." You smile softly, cringing at the rasp of your voice. "Didn't want you to be sore from the way you were sleeping." "I'm glad you're awake." "How long was I out?" Natasha gets up to get you a glass of water while you sit up the bed. "Twelve hours. You definitely needed the rest, everything sounded really crazy up there," she says. "Rocket's somewhere around, he left his bed the moment he got up." She hands you the glass and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. Feeling how cold you still are since they found you in the forest, she grabs a remote to crank the heater up a bit. You purse your lips and cross your legs, looking at her. "How'd you find us?" "Let's just say we heard the impact of the crash from here," Natasha eyes the bandages on the side of your head for a moment. "It was really lucky your ship crashed nearby, but you know I wouldn't hesitate to get on the jet just to find you. And when I did, I... I thought you were-"

Your hand immediately goes to cup her cheek, the contrast of warm and cold making Natasha relax in your touch. "I'm here now. You saved me." She returns your smile and holds onto your hand on her cheek. "I missed you." "I missed you too." "You know, I did specifically set those coordinates," Rocket says as he enters the room with Tony. "Technically I saved us." Your smile only widens and Natasha chuckles, turning to Tony to see what he has to say about your condition. "You really wore yourself out there fireball, is she still freezing cold?" He asks this to Natasha specifically and she nods. You furrow your eyebrows and turn to your fists, clenching them, only noticing now that you are freezing. "I'm gonna run a simple test and if all goes as expected, Bruce is gonna give you a shot." "Have you already got a conclusion on what happened to me?" You question. Tony pulls out something from his pocket. "Sure have. Now set this on fire." He tosses you a solid crumpled paper. Holding it between three fingers you expect it to turn into ash in your palm, but it stayed the way it is. You're looking at it now to help focus on setting it on fire but it still stayed as normal paper. Natasha grips you on the arm. "I think that's enough." "You went all out with your powers. I did see you let out an overwhelming amount when we were trying to outrun those creatures before you passed out." Rocket states. "Naturally it'll come back, but the shot should help you with your... body temperature and hopefully the speed of recovery." Tony adds. You groan, back landing on the pillow behind you. Not only does losing your powers suck but you aren't a big fan of needles either, but you'll deal with them if you really have to. Natasha's hand slowly crawls up to intertwine with yours, although her attention was still on Tony. "She's gonna have to stay here at least until she recovers, right?" She also looks at Rocket if he has any objections but he merely nods his head. "'Course, they're welcome here for as long as they want." Tony claps his hands together and dismisses himself, Rocket following behind. "In the meantime I'll be figuring out a way to build a new ship." The raccoon says before closing the door behind him. Natasha makes her way to sit beside you and you automatically scooch to make space and rest your head against her shoulder, taking a breath. "You alright?" You shrug. "I guess I do feel pretty useless without those powers. I mean, Quill without a doubt would never let me go on missions anymore. I'd just be a burden to everyone." She lets go of your hand to put around you. "Everything doesn't revolve around your powers, Y/N. You're not useless. I bet you could take that Quill guy down in a fist fight." You let out a chuckle, shaking your head. "What's that guy like anyway?" The sudden question makes your head perk up. "Oh, you know, Quill, he's a nice guy-" Natasha let out a noise, cutting you off. "Didn't sound like it while I was connected in the call." "He can be a mouthful to me sometimes," you admit quietly. "Not to everyone though, I do generally think he's a nice guy. I have no idea what I did that made him so pissed at me." You look up at her and she's staring at the wall, seeming like she's deep in thought. "He doesn't hurt you, does he?" "God, no. He's not like that," you say. "If he did want to of course I wouldn't just take it." Natasha smiles, "that's my girl." You hung your head low so she couldn't see the way you flushed at the phrase, biting your lip to hold in a smile. “I’m glad you have my back, though.”

“I always do. Always will.”

"So, when can I leave this room?"

"After Bruce gives you the shot, then we can do whatever we want." She tilts your head up to move your hair out of your face. You look at her with an amused expression, "where do you plan on taking me this time?” Natasha smirks at the question. She loves spending all her time with you and the sight of you enjoying yourself makes it better. "There’s a new bookstore open, thought you might like it. Also an amusement park. It’s a few hours away but I can always drive. Oh, Tony’s cabin. I’m sure he’d love you to meet his newborn Morgan.”

“Sounds like you have a list,” you muse.

Natasha hums, pulling you closer. “I do.”

final one!! no one’s really looking forward to this but I enjoyed writing it anyway :)

btw wrote this way before thor: love and thunder so i have no idea what him and the guardians are up to but i wish them the best

[shameless plug] check out this natasha ambience i made some people thought it was cool

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jakeyp · 3 years

Note

“I don’t know why I’m crying I-I’m sorry” // angst and fluff ♥︎

hi... i kind of wrote a small fic with that prompt. you can read it here or on ao3! thanks for this i really needed the motivation. i decided to write something about what happened after 8x06! <3

—

Amy arrives home a little later than usual that night, overwhelmed with the events of the last few days. There are so many things to process, though the only thing she can focus on at the moment, is her husband’s suspension. She knows Jake very well, and most likely he’ll try to hide his sadness and pretend he’s fine, not because he thinks he’s weak but because he doesn’t want Amy to worry about him. Yet, she can’t help to wonder how he’s taking it.

Not knowing what to expect as she enters their apartment, Amy tosses her keys onto the couch sadly, too distracted to place them on the key hook. Jake is nowhere to be seen, so she figures he must be putting Mac to sleep, since it’s past ten already, and there are no toys scattered around the floor.

Indeed, she finds Jake whispering to his son, who lies in his crib, babbling and very, very awake, even though the lights are dimmed and it’s quiet in there.

“Hey,” Amy says softly.

Despite her tone, Jake startles, turning around, but immediately relaxes when he sees it’s just her. “Ames,” he breathes, looking down at Mac and then back at his wife, guilt taking over his features. “I kind of let him take a nap earlier and now he can’t sleep…”

“It’s okay,” Amy says, shrugging. She wants to add something else to reassure him, but her mind’s entirely blank, so she settles for a casual question. “What did you two have for dinner?”

Jake smiles. “He tried scrambled eggs for the first time. I know it’s technically breakfast food, but I read he can eat them now, plus it’s what I cook best.”

“And?”

“He loved them, duh.”

Amy chuckles. “Of course. Did you have some too?”

“I… wasn’t really hungry.”

“Oh. Well, I haven’t eaten either. We can heat some leftovers if you want.”

Jake nods with a weak smile, which widens as he turns to check on Mac. “Hey, he’s asleep! Maybe he just needed to make sure mama arrived home safe.”

Amy leans over to look at her sleeping son. Mac looks so much like his dad, when he laughs or smiles—which he’s been doing recently a lot—but especially when he’s asleep and completely peaceful.

She turns to see Jake staring at their baby with a proud smile and it warms her heart. Perhaps he’s forgotten about the suspension.

“Leftovers, then?” she whispers after a while, grabbing him by the wrist to pull him a little closer to her.

“Sure,” he says, throwing a last glance at Mac before following Amy out of their room and closing the door behind him. They’ve learned to make as little noise as possible in the last ten months, so their voices are barely above a whisper by default whenever Mac is asleep.

As it’s routine, Jake turns on the TV, not choosing a channel, and mutes it before joining Amy in the kitchen, while she gets the food from the fridge and puts it in the microwave.

From the corner of her eye, she can see Jake leaning against the counter in an awkward pose, staring at her almost anxiously.

Amy has no idea how to ask the question she’s been wanting to ask him since she got there, so she takes a deep breath and turns to him. “Babe, are you… okay with it?”

His expression tells her he’s been dreading her to ask. Yet, he plays dumb. “With what?”

“With everything that happened. Your suspension…”

“Oh,” Jake spats after what seems like hours, as if every emotion he was supposed to be feeling before was just settling in. Amy’s stomach drops. These subjects might not be her thing. “It’s fine. I suppose I can talk about it, but is it necessary?”

She shrugs. “Just tell me.” Her voice is as soft as it can be. “How do you feel about it?”

Jake puts on a poker face now. She’s usually good at reading him, but she can’t tell what he’s thinking. Amy knows how much he enjoys his job. Everything had happened so fast, though, at some point she’d lost track of it all. One second he was very excited about his ‘Speed’ situation and then, suddenly, he was in too deep.

To sum it up, it hadn’t gone well.

“I feel weird,” Jake finally admits, looking down. “It feels weird to know I won’t be going back tomorrow. But I’ll… adapt, I guess.”

“I’m sure you will,” she automatically replies, hesitating a little before placing a hand on his chest.

He seems to attempt a smile, but it vanishes right away. “I feel stupid too. Why can’t I listen? Holt told me to stay out of it and I screwed up. I screw up a lot.”

Amy frowns. “Of course you don’t. Sometimes you can be silly, yes, but there’s nothing wrong with it. This time it just… it got out of my hands too. I was really drunk.”

Jake chuckles. “Yeah,” he says shortly, and then swallows. “So five months, huh? It isn’t that much, is it? There are like thirty days in a month so it would be like a hundred days which have twenty-four hours each, so it would be like twenty-four thousand hours.”

“No,” she says, shaking her head with a smile. Math is decidedly not Jake’s strength. “It’s only like… three thousand and seven hundred hours.”

“Oh. That’s… still a lot.”

Amy sighs. His eyes are red, probably with exhaustion, and she can’t recognize the emotion behind them. It might be just deep, deep sadness.

“Ames,” he says huskily before she can talk. “What am I gonna do?”

Her eyebrows shot up, but before she can even think of an answer, Jake cuts her off again. “Things were so well yesterday. It makes me think… I can mess everything up so quickly. And it’s always my fault. What am I gonna mess up next?”

“Don’t say that,” she says, her throat knotting. “It’s okay to make mistakes, babe. And you are great at dealing with the consequences. You learn from your mistakes, you’ve always done.”

“Yeah, I keep pushing things until something goes wrong,” he argues in a trembling voice, “and until then I stop, I—” and suddenly that trembling voice breaks.

Amy’s stomach drops again as his eyes tear up, becoming redder. He immediately looks away when he realizes himself.

“Hey,” she says soothingly, cupping his face to make him look at her. “Don’t beat yourself up over this.”

“I’m sorry,” he chokes. “I know it’s a dumb thing to cry over, I just—” once more he’s unable to finish his sentence, pinching his lips shut before his voice can get any louder or high-pitched.

A single tear streams down his cheek.

“It’s not dumb,” Amy says. “If it makes you feel like this, it’s not dumb.”

“Well, I got myself into it—”

“And as I said, you will learn from it. That’s what matters.”

“I’ve been suspended like a thousand times already,” he counters, his tone bitter. "What makes you think it won’t happen again? What makes you think I couldn’t get fired?”

She shrugs, trying to stay calm even though she wants to cry as well. “I wouldn’t be less proud of you than I am today,” she says. “You’ve grown up so much and whatever you have to deal with, I have to deal with too, because I love you and I’m willing to. So please, don’t beat yourself up over this because it’s going to be fine.”

He sniffs. “How can you know that?”

“Because I’ll make sure everything’s fine. You’re not alone, babe. You have me.”

Jake stays in silence for a few seconds, and she thinks he’s going to start sobbing, but his lips curl instead. “I love you so much,” is all he says.

“I love you too,” she mouths back, afraid she’ll begin crying if she talks, and then pulls him into a hug.

They stay like that for a while, maybe five seconds or ten minutes, sinking in a silence that they don’t really mind. She pulls away from his embrace only to wipe his tears away. Jake looks so tired. Exhausted, even. She feels the same way, when minutes ago they were going to watch some TV and have dinner, though now she’s not sure she’s up for it.

Jake must have been thinking the same thing because a small laugh comes from his lips all of a sudden.

“What?” Amy asks, amused.

“I just realized we never even heated the food.”

Amy chuckles, and it only causes him to laugh a little harder. She wonders if it’s the exhaustion making such a simple detail seem so funny, and rests her head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. It’s calmer now, it could be matching hers.

“Babe,” she says softly.

“Yes?” Jake hums.

“It’s going to be fine. I promise.”

He doesn’t answer right away, and Amy separates, afraid she said the wrong thing, but Jake’s only bowing his head like she said the cheesiest thing in the world.

“I know. Thanks, Ames,” he says, and then adds, “I love you.” Even though she hears those words coming from him at least ten times a day, he manages to make them sound like it’s the first every time.

“I love you too,” Amy whispers, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

Jake is about to return a much longer kiss on the lips when Mac interrupts the moment. Amy squeezes her eyes shut with a knowing smile—this has happened many times before. However, Jake immediately becomes alert and rushes to attend to his son.

Amy chuckles to herself, finally heating the food which is still inside the microwave and turns off the TV, because they are definitely not watching anything before they fall asleep, worn off with the events.

Like Jake would say, they’re sort of an old couple now, but she couldn’t care less. To her, so far, it’s meant that things can be so easy now.

Her husband doesn’t join her back in the kitchen so she goes and checks on him and Mac. The room feels so warm and quiet still, as Jake rocks his son softly, lulling him, again not realizing Amy’s watching. It always seems like he drifts away from reality when he’s trying to make Mac stop crying—and he’s good at it. She doesn’t know what it is, but Jake is great at it.

“I have to admit,” Amy says, startling him of course, “I’m a little jealous of you. You get to spend five months with him, all by yourself.”

Jake gives her what looks like an automatic smile, and then realization hits him. “I hadn’t thought about that before,” he huffs, stroking Mac’s soft curls and looking down at him. “Did you hear that, bud? Five months for only the two of us.”

Mac babbles, and Amy tries to ignore how awake he still sounds. “Careful, Ames,” Jake tells her. “That sounded a lot like ‘dada’, and with these five months? It’s definitely going to be his first word.”

Amy rolls her eyes with a playful smile. “Not if I train him every night.”

“Challenge accepted.”

An hour later they’re both in bed after eating dinner and Amy has already changed into her pajamas. Jake hasn’t stopped rocking Mac, who woke up once more, but his father doesn’t seem to mind, and Amy has the feeling that his suspension doesn’t sound so bad to him anymore.

—

#this is the first time i post a fic!!#i let myself go #it's 1.9 k words i think #anyway i'm excited to know what you think!#i enjoyed writing this a lot #it had been ages since i wrote anything like this #so THANK YOU anon #ilysm #jake peralta #amy santiago #mac peralta #b99 fanfic #fluff #angst #comfort

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egcdeath · 3 years

Note

Since you said we can send in request😄 how about a bachelor party for Steve and reader. Full of fun and romance.

bottoms up

summary: steve tells you all about his wild bachelor party.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: excessive drinking, terrible decisions, fluff, basically a crack fic, i barely use dialogue tags in this so you’re just gonna have to guess who’s talking

author’s note: this was supposed to be a drabble.

you can find my drabble masterlist here and my regular masterlist here <3

It had been a long, exhausting weekend of celebration. Of course, it was exhausting in the best way possible, but between the extensive spa days, bar hopping, and seeing more male strippers in one night than you'd seen in the entirety of your life, you were really looking forward to curling up in bed with your fiancée.

It seemed Steve was feeling similarly to you, as he was already pajama clad and sprawled across your bed by the time you arrived home.

You quickly freshened up and joined him on the mattress, slipping under your duvet and cuddling up to Steve.

“How was your weekend?” Steve asked, rubbing circles on your back.

“Exhausting. I could probably sleep for years.”

He chuckled softly at your statement, “well, don’t do that. Wanna talk about it?”

“I’ll tell you over breakfast tomorrow. I don’t think I have the energy to come up with the words right now,” you aimlessly played with the hem of his shirt. “What about you guys? Why don’t you tell me a bachelor party bedtime story?”

“It was… a lot. I almost called you several times. Let’s just say that Sam... stopped me.”

“That bad, eh? Tell me everything,” you gushed.

“Well we were supposed to go camping. I don’t know who decided that was a good idea. Actually I do, it was Thor. It took about half an hour before Tony was starting arguments with everyone. I think he was getting moody about having to be in the outdoors away from all his tech, and something about how bachelor parties aren’t supposed to be like this. We didn’t even get to dinner before he insisted that we find a nice hotel to stay at for the night, and go to a club.”

“You guys don’t really seem like campers anyway. What happened after that?”

“I was getting there before you interrupted me.”

“There was a natural lull in your story.”

“Whatever. So we pack everything up and go back out to town. There was some boujee ass hotel Tony knew about and took us there, but there were no rooms. So he was like ‘make room’ and the staff told him that they would try but they just needed a minute. So Buck suggested that we go to the hotel bar, and we did. The only problem is that alcohol doesn’t have the same effect on some of us that it does with others, so Thor had to break out the Asgardian mead. And he had a lot of it.”

“Oh no, I feel like this is not going in a good direction.”

“You’re absolutely right, because one second I’m sitting in a hotel bar, and the next I was half conscious on a private jet.”

“Steve! You did not black out. That’s not very responsible of you.”

“I was peer pressured! Besides, I don’t think I did anything too bad. Did you not get super drunk for at least one night?”

You pondered the question for a moment, “hmm. Go on.”

“So I wake up on a private jet, not like a Quinjet, but like, a real plane. No idea where I am or where we’re going. Sam is the most sober among us by the time I’m awake, but still pretty drunk. Keep in mind I’m also a little out of it. I ask him where we’re going, and he told me Las Vegas. At this point I’m not surprised, but I want to call you to let you know that I’m no longer in New York, and I start to take my phone out of my pocket to call you, and he flips his shit. He grabs my phone and dunks it in a glass of water, and starts saying that if I use the phone on the flight, our flight will crash.”

“You’re joking.”

“Nope. Now I’m phoneless, but I’m not really mad. Honestly, I thought it was funny in the moment. My memory’s a little blurry, but I feel like we laughed ‘till we landed.”

“Please tell me that the crazy events end here.”

“Oh, Sweetheart,” Steve chuckled.

“Christ, Steve.”

“So we get off the plane and at this point, I realize that Bruce must’ve left before we boarded. I don’t even blame him. This trip probably would’ve made me Hulk-out too. Anyway, we take an Uber to our hotel. Our poor Uber driver, he was so starstruck and excited to have Avengers in his car, but like, everyone was completely out of it. And to make things worse, Bucky threw up in the back.”

“No,” you gasped.

“Yeah. It’s only a matter of time before tabloids get ahold of that. Remind me to call our PR person in the morning.”

“Got it.”

“We finally get to this hotel, and I guess at some point while I was blacked out, Tony had booked us some penthouse suite at one of those really nice hotels. I can’t really remember how we got up there, but I know it was a struggle. I was just glad to be able to go to sleep in a real bed. By the time I wake up, I desperately need an Advil and a call home. Unfortunately, I can’t have either, since everyone starts insisting that the best way to beat a hangover is to drink more. To be fair, I slept in pretty late. So it’s kind of a reasonable time to drink now. If you consider time zone differences. That aside, I’m sipping on a beer when there’s a knock on the door-“

“I feel like I’ve heard enough of this story.”

“That’s fair.”

“But I’d also like to hear more. But this is stressing me out.”

“I made it back in one piece, what more do you want from me?”

“I want you to get a new friend group,” you whined.

“Is it bad that I want the same for myself?”

“I think that’s perfectly reasonable.”

“Okay, so back to the knock on the door. I’m getting a little nervous, because I specifically told the guys no strippers. That was just a can of worms I didn’t want to open. And I think there’s gonna be a stripper at the door, but nope. Who opens the door? Fucking Loki. I don’t know why they came, or how they found us, but they were ready to party. Suffice it to say I do not remember the majority of that day. All I can say is that there was way too much gambling happening, and if I found out that Tony is filing for bankruptcy, I would not be surprised.”

“That is… wow.”

“I’ll give you one more thing before you go to sleep. Someone got married to a stranger. They’re gonna get it annulled but.. I did attend a wedding ceremony where an Elvis impersonator was the officiant,” Steve leaned over to his bedside table and turned off the lamp that was dimly illuminating the room. “Goodnight.”

“You are such an asshole! You don’t get to leave me on a cliffhanger like that.”

“I need you to be excited and engaged for when I finish my story tomorrow!”

“Fair,” you huffed and snuggled closer to your fiancée.

“Was it Sam?” you asked after a moment of silence.

Steve quietly laughed at you instead of responding.

“Nope. It was definitely Bucky. I’m right, right?” you pressed.

More silence from Steve.

“No way. Thor?”

His snickers became louder at this, and you gasped.

“I said I’ll tell you in the morning.”

“I don’t like when you keep secrets from me,” you prompted, trying to guilt trip your partner.

“Fine. It was Thor. But that’s all you’re getting from me for now.”

“Oh my god. Why wasn’t my bachelorette party as exciting as yours?”

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers drabble #chris evans x reader #neptune drabbles

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migilini · 4 years

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Hiiii! I liked how you did the road trip one shot and was wondering if you could do a request for Charlie Gillespie where the reader and Charlie are dating but have been living in different states due to COVID and the boys do an Instagram live and the reader wants to be on the live with them and Charlie gets so excited and it’s fluffy?

So far apart - Charlie Gillespie

A/N: ofc i can! Thank you so much, hope you like it :) I will proofe read it tomorrow.

Words: 1.5k

Masterlist

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Tiredness was your new default state. College alone was stressful and hard enough plus it didn't help that you had to do it online from your little NY appartement that you shared with three other roommates. But you had too. You were in your last semester ever! That was motivation enough to pull through.

Currently you were trying to facetime your boyfriend Charlie. You haven't seen him in about four months but if someone would ask your roommates, they would say it felt like an eternity of you moaning and pouting about not seeing him. When COVID started, the two of you seriously debated about moving in together. However, at that time, your classes were not online yet and you couldn't move away, he also couldn't move to New York with you because he still had meetings with the JATP Cast.

You stared at your ringing phone, desperate to hear his voice. You knew that he should be awake, you had the time zones imprinted on your brain.

Sorry babe, have a meeting in 5… Will call you after okay? <3 the message that just popped up on your screen made you frown a little. You weren't mad, you just had a really awful week and missed him like crazy.

Sure thing <3 yout texted back and threw the phone onto your bed. Deciding that instead of waiting for him to call back, you could use the time usefully and start studying for your next test in two days.

It was an hour later, you were completely engrossed in the textbook, so you barely heard the ringing of your phone. Maybe a bit too quick, you tossed all your books to the ground and launched yourself on the bed to find your phone.

His pretty face filled your screen “Heyyy!” “Hello beautiful!” You two grinned at each other.

“How are--” A knocking on your door interrupted your question. “Yes?” The door opened and revealed one of your roommates Alexis with a sheepish look on her face “I’m really sorry to interrupt but Tara just broke off with her boyfriend and she needs a hug.”

You looked up at your red haired friend “She broke up with Tom?!” Alexis nodded “It's an emergency” she claimed. Charlie understood this as his clue to end the call saying a quick goodbye and a don't worry about it, when you shot him an apologetic look.

This is how it went nearly every time. Something always came up, either you were studying non-stop and he didn't want to distract you or he had actor things and meetings going on. It was truly tiring. The last time you really had the opportunity to facetime was a couple weeks ago and even then you fell asleep inert 15minutes. When Charlie accidentally lulled you to sleep with a song he's been working on.

Still the two of you made it work. Charlie had started writing you weekly letters with his perfume on it. And you being your crafty self, sent him a little care package with letters, some self made food and paintings, every now and then.

You just finished all your tests and essays for this semester and you felt free again. Taking a deep breath, you opened your bedroom window and put your school books away. Sinking down on your bed, you closed your eyes temporarily, enjoying the moment. You got up again to get yourself something to eat and a coffee. Your roommates were currently away, probably getting groceries or books at the College Library.

You mindlessly scrolled through Instagram, the sandwich you made yourself still laying next to you on the nightstand. Ever since Julie and the Phantoms released, the cast's accounts blew up like crazy and Charlie always showed you off like a queen so of course people found your page as well. You didn't mind though. Most of the people were really nice and respecting, protecting your relationship from all the not so nice guys

You just answered some DM’s, chuckling at a meme that Maddie had sent you, when you got a notification that Owen was live. Naturally you clicked on it, knowing that Charlie most likely will be in the live as well, due to the fact that he was currently at Owen’s with Jeremy.

You were one of the first ones. Owen grinned when he saw your name come up in the chat.

“Guten Morgen everybody.” You chuckled when you heard your boyfriend singing in the background, writing in the chat that Owen should say hi to Charlie. “Are all of you streaming JATP?” he asked the live audience while you nodded to yourself, your laptop open beside you. It was a bit embarrassing to admit how often you saw the show, but every time you felt lonely you watched it. It had some really cute guys in it after all.

He read the chat “Do you like watching the show you participated in? Thats a good question. Charlie, Charlie! I have a question for you.” The camera turned and it showed the canadian boy you fell in love with.

“Eh…” he said as he walked into the kitchen, Owen following close. “It was very weird at first. Guess I'm more used to it now.” he answered honestly. You weren't even listening, you just stared at your phone in trance, the light making him look so incredibly pretty.

Suddenly you got an invitation to join the live from Owen. You sat up a bit straighter and blinked a few times before accepting.

“Helloooooo!” he screamed, making you laugh. “Hi Owen. Yall are up early.”

“Yeah… you know Char. That dumb early riser.” he complained. “Yeah I feel you. Though he lets me sleep so he must love me more than he loves you.” you teased making Owen pout in a childish way.

“Charlie! Who do you love more, me or y/n?” the statement made your boyfriend laugh and for a moment your breath hitched, it was music in your ears and once again you realised how much you missed it.

“I’m really sorry bud, but definitely y/n…I want to...” Charlie just wanted to explain why when he heard your chuckling from Owen’s phone. “See told ya.” It was truly a blessing that the camera was still turned to your boyfriend, making it easy for you to see his reaction. He nearly let the fork he was holding fall out of his hand, his eyes widening while his mouth grew into a big grin. “Is that y/n?” he asked cautiously. Apparently Owen nodded, because before you knew, the camera turned and you were face to face with your boyfriend.

“Baby!” he screamed, a wide, toothy smile on his lips. “How dare you go on live with Owen but not with me!” he jokes. “How was the history test? As hard as you thought it would be?” you cut off his rambling “Hi! Nice to see you too. No, it was way harder than I expected. Let's hope for the best, I get the results sometime next week”

“I bet you killed that test baby! No, Owen you don't get the phone back… I don't care that it's your live.” The chat was freaking out over Charlie's happiness by just seeing you, talking about how they want love like that.

“Little explanation for everybody. Me and Charlie haven't really been able to facetime so were just really excited right now. Sorry if it's boring.” you explained to the chat.

“Don’t ever say that ever again.” he said in a serious tone “it's not boring.” you held your hands up in surrender. “Sorry sorry. Can I talk to Owen again? I mean he is the one who invited me.” you teased, poking your tongue out. With a pout he gave the phone back to Owen.

“Are you also streaming the show today?” he asked you. Charlie was in the background, looking at you over Owens shoulder, making silly faces. “Of course! Who do you think I am? I’ve been watching it everyday since it came out.” Owens' face fell “You're kidding… that doesn't… that doesn't seem healthy.” you shrugged “Well i don't really care. I have this massive crush on someone from the show, just can't get enough of him.”

The camera shook and a couple crunts later you were once again faced with Charlie. “I sure hope it's me or you're not allowed to wear that shirt anymore.” he pointed to the shirt you were currently wearing and that was in fact one of his.

“Not gonna tell you babe. My mouth is shut.” you winked, making him blush. “I miss you.” he blurted out with puppy eyes. “I miss you too. Can’t wait to see you.” he grinned at that excited for the surprise he had planned.

“I think i'm gonna go, let you guys actually comment on the show. I love you Charlie.” You sent him a kiss and he pretended to catch it with his free hand.

“Eww that's so cheesy.” Owen muttered from somewhere in the back.

“I love you too.”

#charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie fanfiction #charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie fluff #charlie gillespie fanfic #charlie gillespie fic #charlie gillespie images #charlie gillespie x y/n #charlie gillespie x oc #jatp fanfic #jatp

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napeoftheneck · 3 years

Text

Rivers of Crimson (Ymir x Reader)

I absolutely can bestie! I had a hard time trying to find out what I could do for some angst without being yk. One of those “I’m not Christa :(“ fics, so here’s some hurt/comfort w/ some extra angst mixed in !! Angst is my absolute favourite to write, I’m so elated that it’s is my first request. Especially with Ymir, too !! Thank u <3<3

Title: Rivers of crimson Genre: Angst w/happy ending, hurt/comfort Warnings: Canon-typical violence, descriptions of injuries, angst, swearing, Ymir being kind of a meanie, fighting, implied comphet if you really REALLY squint Word count: ~1.7k

IMPLIED SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2 OF ATTACK ON TITAN !!

(There was no specific request for a WLW reader, so I tried to keep it as gender-neutral as I can :>)

Ymir had never really felt helpless since her youth. Even then, in those moments, she felt as though she had been ruling, that whatever she could do would bring praise and gratitude and triumph. It was only after she had been adjudged when she realised that the reason she sought after that feeling of authority for so long was because of just how dependent she had actually convinced herself she was.

Becoming a god was the loneliest feeling in the world, but solitude brought a power not many had; it brought independence. She never had to worry about others.

She often found herself watching her fellow cadets when they returned from battle. Ymir would often follow as they broke down, crumbling to their knees in wracked sobs upon hearing of the demise of their loved ones. She would listen to the hums of commiseration from other soldiers or watch as they would help the mourning fighter to their feet and lead them away from others' scrutinising eyes. She wouldn't pity them. The feeling of sympathy was foreign to her.

Ymir had been fighting for a grand portion of her life now. She had held herself to those same beliefs since her first day of training, so she was specifically surprised when she had taken such a liking to you.

She fought it for a while. Whenever you would sit with her at lunch, she would make an effort to seem uninterested when you spoke of your day. When you stumbled during training, she would correct you, but would mask whatever tenderness that found her voice with a sigh or a comment implying that you “need to suck it up”.

Yet, despite how she pushed and strayed from you, you remained a constant in her life of inconsistencies. Eventually, you were the closest to what she could call a friend.

Ymir ignored how, whenever you would patch her wounds or link to her on cold nights or how often you would sleep in the same bed, she was far too mercenary to label you as something other than a friend. Even that was stretching it.

Though, in moments like these, Ymir wished that she was raw enough to let you know. Because, in moments like these, she would be terrified to misspeak.

You wouldn’t fight often. Not like this.

You had mentioned having to “get up early” off-handedly during dinner when excusing yourself from the table. Ymir asked about it and you mentioned a scout that had been injured, whom you volunteered yourself to replace for an outer-walls mission. You said it all so casually. Ymir couldn’t grasp any sarcasm in your voice or crack in your authored facade as you brushed through your hair in the mirror of her chambers. She didn’t see you make eye contact with her once. You spoke to her coolly about how happy you were to finally be able to sleep, about the dinner and how it was cold that day, about how Jean had snuck some of your apple at lunch that day.

Ymir just stood in silence, considering and rejecting things to say in response.

“Were you gonna tell me about how you’re leaving tomorrow, or was I just supposed to wake up without you and put it together myself?” She spoke before thinking. You hesitated, hovering over your cupboard. “Ymir, it’s not a big deal,” you finally sigh, running a hand through your hair the moment it’s freed. “I said it was just a capture mission. Hange said we won’t go far-“ “You can't go.” You narrow your eyes. You had now frozen in your tracks completely; no longer pacing around the room to place things in their correct spaces. “I’m not a child,” you speak gently, as if to a rabid dog. The blaze in her eyes was enough to pardon it. “I don’t have to ask your approval to work. I don’t need you next to me,” you deride lightly, insignificantly, as you turn your back to her. You didn’t plan to sound so dismissive. “Are you seriously being this fucking petty right now? You could die out there,” Ymir, however, fully intended her venomous rhythm. She towers over you, if not just in her tone alone. “You’re being stupid. You know you're not strong enough to fight with that squad.” Your breath hitches in your throat. Ymir regrets her words immediately, but she doesn’t waver in her stance. “What the fuck is your problem?” you sneer. “You insist on how little you care about me, but as soon as I do anything without your permission you yell at me?” “That’s not what this is about, (y/n)-” “Then what is it about, Ymir? Why are you so scared?” “I don't give a shit about what happens to you! I'm just-” Ymir catches herself before she can finish her sentence. “No, I-” “Exactly,” before she can correct herself, though, you are biting y our lip the way you do when you're biting back tears and you are in front of her. “Move. I need to go to bed.”

She is wordless as she steps to the side and allowing you to pass her. It isn't until she hears your footsteps down the hall when she speaks.

“If you come back, I won’t be here.” She hears you stop. Ymir doesn't expect you to come running to her, arms open and folded clothing discarded into a pile on the hallway floor. She isn't entirely sure why she's digging such a hole for herself - she doesn't mean what she's saying - of course she doesn't, she adores you, so why is she so set on pushing you as far away as she possibly can? Why does she feel that she needs to? “Good.” you reply. The footsteps continue, then you are gone.

You are gone for three days.

Ymir, at first, didn’t count the hours. She stewed in her angst alone for a grand portion of the morning without you; she dutifully avoided talking about whatever mission you had left for at the table that morning.

Despite herself, Ymir had to eventually confront her weakness after the third consecutive “Are you okay?” Of that day that she wasn’t doing as good of a job of hiding her worry as she had thought.

She thought she didn’t seem too bothered when your name was mentioned at the breakfast table.

She thought she didn’t look too obviously intrigued when, 30 hours since you left (she swore she hadn’t counted), she heard Captain Levi murmur something about a retrieval squad. She thought she didn’t sound so desperate when she attempted to bring it casually up in conversation, yet she couldn’t fight the cracks in her voice and she couldn’t stop herself from wringing her hands over her wrists in worry when she thought nobody was looking. Helplessness went from being a stranger to a thorn at her side in a matter of hours.

It had been the dawn of the fourth day when Ymir was awoken by a creek by her door. She remained stiff as she listened to light footsteps approach her bed, but she softens when she hears you. When she sat up, unsure of whether you were actually there or if she had just been consumed by grief and began to hallucinate, you winced.

She blinks.

There are no words exchanged. Ymir debates speaking, though her body moves before she can and, in minutes, you are sat in the bathroom and she is kneeling in front of you.

Ymir isn’t certain (it seems like she hadn’t been certain about anything at all for the past week) why she wasn’t crying. She isn’t sure why she’s so terrified to touch you, or to speak, or to maintain eye contact for longer than a millisecond.

You were in frightening shape. Had she not been petrified to talk, Ymir would be swearing under each breath. Blood still seeped from your open wounds, cascading in small, splitting rivers of crimson down the side of your face. It had likely been far too long since you had fought any kind of titan, Ymir thought. Their blood would've been long since steamed. It was your blood. You must have noticed her hesitance as she wiped it, gently, dreading that she would uncover another wound, because you broke the abundant, pregnant stillness

“They lost two scouts.” “Oh.” Ymir responds. An unfamiliar feeling settles uncomfortably in her gut. “I’m sorry.” You nod, then you are silent again.

Ymir takes a moment to resume her conscientious work.

There is no obligation between either of you to say anything more. Your eyes are fixed downward, resting heavily on Ymir as she squints at the cap of some kind of disinfectant. She’s biting her tongue. “I didn’t mean anything I said,” Ymir spoke to you suddenly and without looking you in the eyes. You’re thankful because it told you that you weren’t the only one too frightened to do so. “I do give a shit about what happens to you,” You laugh insignificantly, shaking your head. “I thought you died. I thought I lost you and the last things I said to you was that I wouldn’t be here, but I will. I’ll always be here.” She is desperate, rambling until she realises it and lulls herself.

You would say something dismissively comforting had it not been for the silence Ymir’s hand brought as it raised to your cheek and gently brushed a stray tear away. It is so small and trifling, yet it is gracious and fragile and kind and it means the universe to you.

“I know,” you respond. You don’t need to hear a long-drawn, significant plea. You don’t need it because, truthfully, you knew you likely wouldn’t get it from Ymir in the first place. However, as she guides you gently back into her bed, engulfing you in the white sheets, and places a small kiss on your forehead, something settles within you.

It was a feeling one would associate with the moments after receiving an apology; it is warm, tender, relieving.

You were home. You were safe.

You were loved.

Although she hadn’t said it, it wasn’t needed, because as Ymir’s arms tighten around you, you certainly felt it enough to maintain a sleepy smile as you drifted off alongside her.

#yall i love ymir so much but i think she is SO hard to write #ymir x reader #ymir #aot #attack on titan imagines #ymir imagines #ymir x you #aot imagines #attack on titan imagine #ymir oneshot #attack on titan oneshot #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #request!

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