#thank god it’s gonna warm up soon because the cold always makes it worse

[stoned-ratpack]

Don’t have eczema on your hands while moving, just don’t okay kids?

[atraedia]

Anxious Times (Syzoth x afab! reader)

Totally didn't just forget to put a title on this and came up with something in five seconds... It's been so long since I've written anything, so I'm a bit rusty; I've got my own headcanons in the vault and some reqs that I need to start. When I tell you, I will die on a hill for this man. I will defend him to the ends of the Earth. I would be cured of anxiety and become the 'he asked for no pickles' person for him. He could literally tear me in half with his bare hands and burn me with acid, and yet you best believe who's gonna be there with a sign, cheering him on when he's in a fight? - ME. Is Syzoth my favourite character? It's very much possible. I don't even necessarily like him in a typical obsessive way (like he's hot and all that); he reminds me of myself in subtle ways that make me wanna give him a big hug and wish him a good day.

Requested?: Yes. The reader is a human pregnant with Syzoth's kid. Naturally, the pregnancy is risky, considering they're from different species (technically, it shouldn't be possible, but we don't talk about this!). This is essentially a collection of his worries and relief over the stressful period.

Warnings: Mentions of Death (Syzoth's wife and child). Mentions of death during childbirth. Mentions of deformation. Pregnancy itself? Nothing explicit or graphic of any kind.

Syzoth had once lost everything he held close to his heart.

The sudden reveal of what he had always suspected yet steadfastly denied tore a gaping hole through his heart.

Everything he had done in those dungeons, everything he'd overseen in order to protect his family, was for nothing.

The pain had been momentarily dulled by the presence of his peers and soon-to-be allies, but it never went away. His wife had been a painful loss, one that would heal with enough time (though he would never forget the time he spent with her and how she'd accepted him despite the odds).

The loss of his child, however, was a pain nothing could heal - or at least that's what he thought.

___

Syzoth wouldn't have expected his sanctity to come from a human. Nevertheless, here he was, sitting next to you, beautiful and kind, occasionally glancing down at the jewelled necklace he had given you as a courting gift. The first of many.

"I'm pregnant, Sy."

When you gave him the news, he was stuck between two points. One of giving you a bright smile and thanking you for making him a father again, the other was to curl up into a ball and cry if he's being honest. The conflict must've shown on his face because it wasn't long until you were pushing yourself into his cold arms and rubbing circles on his back.

No words were exchanged between you, none were needed.

(As if he needed another reason to worship you)

He had lost one child and lover before, and he couldn't handle losing either (or, gods forbid, both) again. To make things worse, the risks were significantly higher this time.

You were human; he was saurian.

He didn't know much about interspecies relationships, but you were under the impression that it would be highly unlikely (near impossible) that you could get pregnant with him.

A couple hours later, he was pacing in his room near frantically. Maybe his humanoid form is an exception because if you were going to get pregnant - that form seemed like the most likely culprit. Maybe he has some human DNA; hell, maybe that's how he has this ability to begin with.

He remembers some information you had found at the beginning of your relationship (you were going to be in a relationship with another species, after all). The child could end up having a horrid mash-up of features, half-reptile, half-human, and not be able to shift the same way he can. Constantly stuck somewhere between the two for their entire life.

The other Saurians wouldn't like that - he'd never take you to them regardless; they were too volatile and held too much hatred towards anything warm-blooded for him to be comfortable with you being anywhere near his so-called 'kin'.

Of course, he'd sooner die than let anything happen to you, but he was only one person, and he knew the hard way that his people didn't mind ganging up to take out those they see as cursed.

If they found out you were with his child while you were there, it would be a bloodbath. A part of him still wished that his people would be more open-minded so that they might finally welcome him with open arms. Maybe even accept his child as one of them.

He knew now not to believe in false fantasies; they would never change their ways. He could only hope that this child would be given his ability, too. He would not let them interact with other Saurians, not really. He just wanted them to see what his home was like and learn a bit about their culture. He knew that regardless of the child's features, whether they were more zaterran than human or vice versa, they'd be loved the same by their parents.

He was getting ahead of himself, he remembered woefully. There was a chance the child wouldn't survive the birth to begin with; there was a chance that you wouldn't either. Who knew what kind of toll it would take on your body? Who knew if birthing the child would be possible to begin with? It might be one of those issues where pregnancy can be reached, but the child is never viable...

He couldn't lose you; he would not lose you.

He returned to you once he had his mind in some kind of order to discuss the situation some more. He felt terrible. Not because of the child but because he knew that you could see how this was affecting him; he was a horrible liar when it came to you. He knew that you would try to spin this around to accommodate his comfort zone, but this time, he wouldn't let you. Especially not since it concerned you.

Hence his vehement refusal when you asked if the two of you should explore ways of...removing the dilemma. He remembers what you had told him when the two of you started to get really close.

You'd wanted children, and you had been willing to give that opportunity up if it meant you got to live your life with him.

If this was possible, he was going to make it work.

---

The first call of order is to inform friends; at this point, Syzoth is still in a state of shock and is just letting you pull him along. Before long, the two of you arrive at the Shirai Ryu. That makes sense; you'd befriended Tomas and Kuai Liang shortly after their brother's betrayal, and the three of you (Harumi, too) have been close ever since.

Tomas was over the moon to see two of his closest friends and even more so to hear the news. Harumi and Kuai Liang gave their own congratulations. They offered the two of you to stay with the clan for the time being, seeing as you and Syzoth had been living together in a rural area of outworld and would be needing assistance throughout the pregnancy.

The first check-up went well but did nothing to quell Syzoth's worries. It only got worse when you began to experience the typical signs of human pregnancy, like morning sickness (which you were struck with particularly bad) and even more so when you were fit with sudden fatigue (he definitely thought you were dying or going into hibernation).

It felt like he was being punched in the face with the realities of pregnancy in humans, and he wasn't even experiencing it himself. Saurians had no issues as such, the occasional cramp. It could be a side effect of being warm-blooded, he supposes. Either way, it never failed to make him uncomfortable, but despite your protests, the physicians would still check. Each time, it was just the typical signs of pregnancy.

---

It's when the bump starts to show that it really hits him that this is happening. He's simultaneously fascinated and terrified.

"What do you mean the children come out hatched?"

"There's usually only one hatchling?"

It's genuinely like he's going through an entirely different process when compared with his previous relationship.

The poor guy knows next to nothing but stick with him because he's absolutely willing to know every detail if it means they'll be more prepared.

I think the fact that humans usually only give birth to one child per pregnancy soothes his nerves a lot. If you think about it, reptiles usually lay multiple eggs, and then some die before they hatch. I could see it being a pretty devastating process.

He'd probably go into this thinking you were going to have five kids, of which there's a chance none would survive, especially with the mix of DNA. He has no idea how big the child would be, and humans are obviously smaller than Saurians, so he was worried about the chance of you bleeding too much during the birth.

These were worries he'd voice to you in the privacy of your own room, with him laying directly next to you, a hand on the growing bump which had become a common action, listening to your explanations.

If you only have one child, then it should be less strenuous than Saurian births. Then, there was the fact that humans rarely had stillbirths. They would know as soon as the child was born whether or not it would live, and that made him sigh in relief. He didn't think he could handle getting his hopes up waiting for an egg to hatch, only to find out there was no chance to begin with.

Instead of the perpetual fear he held for the two of you, he could now see that there were upsides to the situation. Things in their favour. Still, though, his fears would never go away entirely until the birthing process was done and he saw for himself that you (and hopefully the child) were safe.

___

When the day comes, he feels no more prepared than the day he found out. It was a gentle morning in the Shirai Ryu, and breakfast passed quickly with light laughter among the friends. He'd grown closer to Kuai Liang and Harumi over his time here, having already been good friends with Tomas, and knew for sure that he could rely on them as well with the ever-nearing due date.

It was sometime around noon when things started to heat up a little. Syzoth was walking you back to your shared room so that you could rest your legs and feet a little bit. You'd severely underestimated just how difficult it was to keep your energy up with your daily walks. The exercise was good for the child, you'd been told, and that was the only thing that convinced you to actually do them.

You'd abruptly stopped in your small paces, and the hand wrapped around his bicep tightened while a silent gasp left your mouth. Syzoth stops in near tandem with you and gently places his free hand over your stomach, leaning over a bit to see your face clearly.

"What? What is it, love? What's wrong?" This man is panicking already, and he doesn't even know what's wrong yet. Little does he know that your water just broke; at least you'd been wearing multiple layers and pads.

Once you come to terms with what's just happened, you look to meet your partner's unnaturally green eyes.

"It's time." His heart drops, but he's quick to steel himself and get you to the healers. Even though he goes to pick you up to get you there quicker, you gently refuse. Not wanting to be seen getting carried, you've always been a little bit headstrong when it comes down to it.

Besides, you aren't far from the healers, and you aren't having contractions at the moment. If Syzoth carries you now (as much as you would appreciate it), you feel as though the situation will finally dawn on you, as you won't have anything to focus on except for the child.

And Syzoth is definitely worrying more than enough for both of you.

You manage to waddle your way there with no catastrophes, which you take as a good sign. These next hours are the make or break, and suddenly, you understand just how anxious Syzoth must've been over these months.

To be truthful, you hadn't been all too worried. Finding out you were pregnant, despite not thinking it was possible, felt like a blessing. If this child wasn't meant to be born into the world between the two of you, then why had you been allowed to carry them?

You know biology would tell you differently, that this child may not live long even if you do birth them safely, that they might be unhealthy their entire lives, that they may never be able to have children themselves, they might seem fine until years down the line when they suddenly come down with some incurable disease... the list was endless, is endless.

It was almost comical how the person carrying the child was so much more relaxed than the father. Now, you were beginning to feel as though you were in over your head.

Settling into the bed made you feel restless; Syzoth's presence at your side soothed you momentarily, and he swore he wouldn't leave your side.

___

The birth was long and arduous, but Syzoth kept to his word, even if it ended up breaking his hand. He couldn't help but think about how different human births are from saurian ones. Even though you were birthing fewer children (what would've been eggs had you been saurian), it seemed to take a more immense toll on your energy as opposed to what he had thought earlier. Since the child wasn't in an egg, it made complications more likely, and it was harder to fit through the birthing canal.

You were warmer than usual and dripping in sweat. More so than any fight he's seen you in. Somewhere along the way, you'd reached over to grab his other hand, which had slotted itself into yours subconsciously.

Hearing the words 'nearly there' over your screams was a blessing, but he really wished this would all be over and that the two of you would be okay.

There were extra healers in the room, given the unusual circumstances, and they'd been telling him that it was actually coming along like any other birth. Had he been in the right frame of mind, he would've felt much better.

Syzoth has his eyes closed when you give the final push. He almost doesn't realise the child is out until you grip his hands harder than before.

You're staring intently at the small yet silent figure being bundled in blankets by the head healer. Syzoth copies the action flawlessly, spotting soft skin when the blood and other fluids are wiped away.

Human hatchlings are supposed to cry at birth, aren't they? He thinks to himself. It means they're breathing.

The less experienced healers are glancing at each other; it certainly doesn't help either of you two in your worries. The head healer, however, is nonplussed. They look into the baby's mouth first before pulling the blanket down, turning the child over in their arms, and rubbing circles onto their back.

"Come on, little one." They keep rubbing and give a few semi-firm pats before continuing to rub. "Breathe. Come on now."

After twenty or so seconds of agony, cries break out in the room. Strong and loud. Relief passes over the occupants of the room as the head healer turns the baby back over gently with a smile.

Like they'd discussed beforehand the baby is taken for some simple tests, just to make sure everything is really okay. You'd pretty much passed out in response and Syzoth very nearly felt like doing the same.

He leaves the room momentarily so that the healers can check up on you and is met with a pacing Tomas. Open seeing his outworld friend, he's quick to question about you and the child's health.

Syzoth just smiles and leans forward to rest his forehead on his shoulder.

No more than 30 minutes later, Syzoth is holding that child in his arms. She looks human, but her eyes tell a different story. With nine months of stress and panic finally over - he holds his daughter to his bare chest and settles down in the chair directly next to your bed where you are sleeping off your fatigue after finally being able to hold your firstborn.

The pain in the absence of his first child is still there; they would've loved to welcome their little sister into the world.

He finds the pain is still present but not as raw or gutwrenching. It'll never go away, he realises, no matter how much time passes, but he doesn't ever want it to. Everything's as it should be.

Somehow, he manages to fall asleep in that chair, a secure grip around his daughter. His lover at his side. The ache in his chest, now comforting, reminded him of memories from another life - memories he could now look back on with a smile instead of a grimace.

[alloftheimagines]

billy hargrove | without you

masterlist | ko-fi

words: 2.7k

warnings: 18+. this fic may be triggering. read with care please.

grieving!billy under vecna's curse, dead!reader, suicidal ideation, mentions of death, blood, violence, injury, references to billy's abusive home life, but a semi-uplifting ending

prompt: Hi I was re-reading your stories on stranger things and I was wondering if you could do some sort of part 2 for gone? 

Where Billy gets attacked by Vecna the same way that Max got attacked when she went to the cemetery? Thanks

— can be read as a follow-up to gone.

Billy Hargrove isn’t particularly afraid of dying — in fact, ever since your death in the Starcourt Mall last year, he’s been wishing it was him instead. Or maybe him as well, when he’s being really selfish, because he can’t bear to be without you. And now he is. Every single day. He aches. Every single day. Sometimes, he still wakes up searching for your warm body on the other side of the bed. Or he’ll stir in the middle of the night certain that he heard you laugh. But you’re never there. And he isn’t, either. He’s become a ghost.

A cursed ghost, apparently. Things have been worse recently. Headaches, nose bleeds, visions, nightmares he never quite wakes up from — about you. About his mom. His dad. The monsters he faced last July. 

It’s Max and her dysfunctional group of fucking friends who break the news that he’s cursed. Vecna, they call him. He’s claimed two teenagers already, their bodies found mangled and broken, sharing the exact same symptoms as Billy before they died. Billy would have called bullshit if he hadn’t seen the Mind Flayer last year. Now, he knows that there are things hiding underneath Hawkins he can't explain. 

But he isn’t afraid. A part of him is glad. It feels like he can breathe, knowing it will all be over soon. The grief. The trying to move on. The neverending abuse from his dad. The trying to be a better person because it’s what you would have wanted. It will be over, and he’ll find you again, wherever you end up. And if there is no afterlife, no heartfelt reunion, then there will be nothing. Darkness. And even that’s more comforting than a life without you.

He hates the way Max watches him as everyone makes themselves comfortable in the Wheeler’s basement, waiting for Robin and Nancy to visit some dude to try to stop it. He probably should have listened to the plan. Trouble is, he doesn’t know why they’re all trying so damn hard. He sure as hell doesn’t deserve it. The only good thing about him was you. You're the only reason he helped them last summer: because you were Flayed, and he was desperate to get you back.

But he never did.

He props his elbows on his thighs, twirling his rings around his fingers. You used to wear one of them strung on a necklace. The one on his thumb. A lump gathers in his throat, breaking through the void he’s felt for months. He avoids everybody’s gaze, glaring when he puts a cigarette in his mouth only for Steve Harrington to yank it out. “The Wheelers won’t be too happy if you smoke in their house, man.”

“You gonna deny a dying man his fuckin’ cigarettes?”

“You’re not dying,” Max mumbles. 

He rolls his eyes, daring to look up at her. It hurts to see all the ways he failed her. You were always telling him to be kinder. To take care of her. He tried. God, he tried. But he sometimes wonders if cruelty is just ingrained in him. “You should be dancin’ on the ceiling. You’re finally getting rid of your dick of an older brother. You're free.”

“Don’t say that,” she snaps. “God, Y/N would hate you for saying that. She would hate you for giving up.”

He stills at that, growing cold — because it’s true. You would. And he forgets that he wasn’t the only one who loved you. You were like a sister to Max. You talked to her in ways he just couldn’t.

He bows his head again, sandy curls falling in his heavy eyes. “Yeah, well. Y/N isn’t here.”

Silence falls again. Billy feels Steve’s gaze burning the side of his face and almost loses his shit, but he doesn’t even have the energy for his stupid remarks anymore. So he waits until Harrington finally works up the nerve to say quietly, “Y’know, for a guy who’s next on some supernatural hit list, you don’t seem all that rattled. Most people would be shitting their pants by now.”

Billy clenches his jaw. “Yeah, well… I’m not.”

“Max needs you, Hargrove.” Steve taps the arm of the couch, his gaze lowered as though afraid of Billy’s reaction. They never really resolved that fight of theirs. “I know you’ve had it rough since Y/N…” He can’t even say it.

Billy closes his eyes, trying not to flinch. Every time he hears your name, it opens up a hole in his chest, and he can’t sew it back up. It swallows him whole. Makes him wonder if there’s anything left of him for Vecna to take. 

“I’m just saying,” Steve continues finally, “she still needs you. That’s why we’re helping you. It isn’t for you. It’s for Max. And Y/N. She would have wanted you safe. So do us a favour and work with us, will you? Stop being such an ass to your sister and stop acting like you don’t care if you die.”

“Mind your own fuckin’ business, Harrington,” Billy growls, but his heart isn’t in it. He remembers when he used to believe in what he said. Now, there’s just nothing. Nothing but the emptiness you left. He pinches the bridge of his nose, an ache building behind his eyes. He misses you. He misses you so damn much. He wishes you were here, holding his hand, telling him to simmer down and be nicer to his little sister. He wishes you were here to tell him everything was okay. 

Sometimes, he can’t even remember the sound of your voice anymore. He has to think to recall the exact colour of your eyes. Like you’re disappearing. And so is he. 

He just wants to be close to you. He stands up decidedly, grabbing his denim jacket and shrugging it on.

Max frowns. “Where are you going?”

“I’m not sitting around, waiting to die in some kid’s sad little basement.”

“We’re coming with you,” Dustin pipes up.

Billy puffs, gritting his teeth. “No, you’re not.”

“Yeah, man.” Steve straightens, too, a line forming between his brows. “We are. We don’t know when Vecna’s gonna come for you. You’re not going anywhere on your own.”

Billy glowers for a moment, wondering if there’s any use in arguing. But he looks at his sister again and his resolve weakens. Sometimes, he sees you in Max. Not because you ever looked alike, but just that innocence, that blind compassion for a man who’s never earned it. 

And he can’t say no to her. So he nods. “Then I guess we’re taking a family outing. To the cemetery.” 

***

Your grave already looks weathered. Billy places a new bunch of your favourite flowers down as he kneels on the dew-coated grass by your headstone, his chest tugging itself inside out as though there’s a creature living in his ribs. He doesn’t feel closer to you here — you deserve better than to be reduced to a grey slab of stone — but it gives him something to focus on. He tries to ignore the feeling of being watched. The group is congregated around Steve’s car, waiting. 

Billy sucks in a breath, tears stinging his eyes. “Hey, angel. Sorry I haven’t been by in a while.” He feels like an idiot, but he wants to believe you can hear him somewhere. “I just… I wanted you to know that shit’s happening here, and I might be finding you sooner than we both expected.” A sad smile. “And if I don’t find you — because, honestly, I’m probably goin’ to hell anyway — I guess I just wanted to make sure I got a real goodbye first. I want you to know that…” he chokes on a sob and tips his head to the sky, the breeze ruffling his curls. “I just want you to know that everything’s shitty without you. I want you to know that you were the best thing that ever happened to me, and I’m sorry I failed you. I’m sorry I failed Max. I’m sorry I never became the man you deserved. I wanted to be. I swear, I wanted to. But I lost you, and it’s like I died with you that day. I don’t know how to carry on now.”

He sniffles, tracing his fingers over your name etched into the headstone. “You wanna know a secret? I was glad when I found out that I’m cursed. I was relieved. I’ve tried to live without you, angel, but this isn’t living. It doesn’t even feel like I’m breathing most days. I’ll be glad when it ends. I know that’s a shitty thing to say. I know it would kill you if you were still here. But you left me. You fucking left me.” Tears stream down his face now. He clutches his necklace, his shoulders shaking. Roughly, he wipes his palms across his cheeks. “I just can’t, okay? I can’t. So I think it’s over for me, and I think that’s okay. Just… keep an eye out for me, wherever you are, will you? I’ll try to make it to you. I promise.”

He places a finger to his lips and then presses it on the headstone carefully. Then, he takes off the ring you used to wear and balances it on top of the stone. And for a while, he drinks in the silence and pretends you’re sitting beside him. 

Until it all goes dark. The colour is sucked from the world, and he isn’t in the graveyard anymore. He’s somewhere else.

The Upside Down.

He turns around slowly, taking in the place that stole you away as his heart begins to pound. His boots crackle on slimy vines, particles floating through the air like ash. Is this where you were trapped when you were Flayed? In this endless abyss of nothing? The thought makes him tremble with regret, nausea roiling in his stomach. He takes a step. Another. 

And then he hears it. Your voice, calling him. "Billy."

He whips on his heel, almost collapsing to his knees when he finds you standing in front of him. You look the way you did the day you died: covered in your own, blackened blood, tears in your tattered shirt and your eyes glassy. Only you're upright now. Not lifeless on the floor of Starcourt.

“Y/N,” he whispers. Relief washes through him. He thinks this is how it ends. That maybe he’s already dead, and you’re here to take him somewhere safe. Somewhere where you’re together again.

But then you cock your head, and he knows he isn’t that lucky. “Have you missed me, Billy?”

He knows it’s not you, but he still wants to pretend. It’s been so long since he last saw you. So long since he heard your voice. “Every day,” he whispers. 

“Yet you did nothing, did you? You let me sacrifice myself, and you stood and watched. You didn’t save me.”

He shakes his head, chin wobbling. “You know I couldn’t, angel. There was nothing I could do.”

“Are you sure?” You take another step closer, tracing your fingers along his cheek. They’re cold. Rough. Not yours. Yet still, he savours the touch as though it’s really you, because this is better than nothing at all. He won’t succumb to the curse, to the fear. He won’t fight it at all. “You knew there was something wrong with me, didn’t you? You knew I wasn’t myself. But you didn’t do anything.”

“I couldn’t. I tried.” He did. The sauna test, trusting you when everybody else had already written you off. He tried so hard to bring you back to yourself, but he couldn’t reach you. 

“You’re just like your father, you know,” you whisper.

He wants to throw up at those words. Those words you’ve never said before. Would never say. You always worked so hard to convince him he was better than Neil. 

“A coward,” you continue. “A hopeless, pathetic coward. I see that now. You’re not even mean anymore. You’re nothing, Billy Hargrove. Nothing at all.”

Tears roll down his cheeks as he closes his eyes. The words aren’t a surprise. He’s heard them a million times before from Neil. But never from you. Never. 

“The world will be better with you gone — but you already know that, don’t you?” you say. “That’s why you’re not fighting it. It’s why you want to die. Because even you’re sick of yourself. All you do is make people miserable. All you do is hurt people. Just like you hurt me. Just like you watched me die. It’s your turn, now.”

Good, he thinks. Get it over with. He steels himself, squeezing your hand and pulling it away from his cheek. “I love you, Y/N,” he says, because he knows it’s the last time he ever will. 

“You don’t know what love is, Billy Hargrove.” And then he’s falling, falling, falling. The world turns red, and a clock’s toll rents through the hollow world around him four times. You’ve been replaced by a mottled, grotesque monster. Vecna, he assumes. His long, spiny fingers are around Billy’s neck, and around him, the broken bodies of Chrissy and Fred, his previous victims. It’s Billy's turn. He tries not to look at them. Tries not to think about Max seeing him that way. 

“I’ve been waiting for you, Billy,” Vecna hisses out. His hands rise, and Billy squeezes his eyes shut. Let me be with her, he begs a final time. Please, just let the pain end.

But it doesn’t. Instead, a song echoes through the emptiness. One you always sung in the shower. One you used to force him to play in his own damn car. You’d wind the windows down and sing it from the top of your lungs. And he never told you, but he wondered if one day it might be your wedding song. “Wild Horses” by The Rolling Stones.

 The song makes him remember the feeling of winding his windows down and letting the summer breeze roll through. The smell of freshly cut grass and a beating sun. His cheeks aching with a smile, your laugh ringing above the melody.

Daylight opens up before him, and he sees himself levitating the way he is now, only he’s still at your grave, and Max is screaming as the song plays. His stomach drops with guilt, self-hatred. He can’t leave her like that. Can’t leave himself like that. He imagines it’s you watching him that way. Imagines you’re singing the song like you used to.

And he knows. It’s not his time. No matter how badly he wants it to be, there are still pieces of you to keep alive. There are still ways he can be better, ways he can honour your memory instead of trodding all over it with self-loathing. 

Max deserves better than that. So do you. Maybe he does, too. Because it’s clear now that he’s still loved, still needed. He doesn’t know why, but he has to find out. He can’t die here in the dark without you. Without anyone. 

“It’s not my time,” he mutters — and then he uses Vecna’s surprise against him, and he runs like hell back to his friends. His family. Back to the place where you’re buried. “I’m sorry,” he’s sobbing as he goes. He doesn't know who he's talking to anymore: you, Max, himself. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

The light blinds him. He falls to the floor, feeling the grass beneath his hands and people scrambling to hold him. He looks up; finds blue sky staring back at him. Sun. Max is sobbing as she holds him, and the song is still playing.

“I remembered,” she cries. “She used to love this song. I remember.”

He can’t help his own tears as he clutches her for all he’s worth. He thought he was ready to die, but he isn’t. Not like that. He can’t have his last memory of you be a monster wearing your clothes. He won’t let Vecna use you against him.

So he holds on. He listens to your song, and he lets his sister hold him, and he holds on. For you. 

[under-sedationnn]

the arcana: main six reacting to injured! reader

anonymous: Could u do m6 reacting to mc coming home injured? I want some hurt/comfort >:))

Warnings: talk of being injured, blood. if that bothers you or tiggers you in anyway, please scroll away! i want this to be a safe place, only :)

thanks for the request anon!! i hope you enjoy!! <3 requests for the kissing prompts and physical affection prompts are STILL OPEN. please send them in with the character of your choice (which could be any character from any series i write for) and i will create an imagine!! thanks and happy reading!!

- tries his very very best to stay calm

- you can see panic bubbling under the surface

- faust is on high alert

- slithers around your shoulders and squeezes you for a hug

- "friend! hurt!"

- doesn't immediately ask what happened, just gets you to a comfortable place to be cleaned up

- then, and only then, will he brave to ask what happened to you

- or who did this to you

- wipes the blood from your skin with very gentle swipes

- winces when you wince, and apologizes profoundly

- "Y/n, how did this happen? i thought you were just taking a quick trip to the market."

- "i fell in the market, tripped over a stone"

- "and nobody helped you?"

- in this case he's disappointed with the bystanders, but does not become angry

- in a situation where someone hurt you?

- oh god

- "Y/n, how did this happen? i thought you were just taking a quick trip to the market."

- "yeah, well, somebody had their eye on the same apple i picked up. somehow, though, they managed to push me to the ground and steal it from my hands."

- i don't even think he would know what to say

- and asra is not really the type to march out into the streets of vesuvia and seek to challenge the one who hurt you

- but he would certainly hold a grudge against whoever it was if he did find out

- and would feel absolutely awful about letting you get hurt

- his mind would race about the possibility of losing you again

- because he simply can't handle it

- and what if that person had been particularly violent or malicious? what if you had been taken??

- you'd have to comfort the hell out of him to make sure he knows that you're okay

- "asra, hey, i'm fine! i can handle myself, you know that"

- "you're right, and i know you're right. it's just hard"

- "it's still hard for me, too. the market still makes me a little nervous and i got caught a little off guard, is all"

- that would make him feel better

- would finish patching up your wounds and would make sure to bring you to julian the next day if they were too bad for him to fix or needed stitches

- would also create a special brew to help with the pain and ease you to sleep

- "why don't i go down to the market tomorrow?"

- "why? so when you pick a fight over apples, i can pay you back for all of this high quality medical treatment?"

- "well of course, surely you didn't expect all this tender love and care to be free" *wink*

- panicked doctor mode enabled

- immediately begins checking you over, asking questions

- something tells me it would be a head injury of some sort

- "oh darling, what happe- you're bleeding!"

- "julian, i'm okay! it's just a little scratch"

- "no no no you might need stitches, come sit down. i'll go get my kit!"

- there's really no use in arguing

- he has cold ass hands, so he tries to warm them up before he begins suturing the wound

- tries to be gentle, and his expert hands move quickly without any snagging

- "so, how did this happen?"

- his voice is literally trembling

- "well, i was in the clinic grabbing the list of ingredients we need for our next grocery trip and there was a puddle of... something on the floor. i slipped and hit my head on the corner of your desk"

- immediately thinks it's his fault

- like "oh shit i should have cleaned better that could have killed y/n and then what would i have done-"

- doesn't necessarily voice this, but you can tell by the silence that follows that he's feeling really guilty

- would kneel for you, head on your knees

- "y/n, i am so sorry"

- "juli, it's really okay, i should have watched where i was going"

- "i'll make sure to clean better from now on, okay?"

- would guard you throughout the night in case of concussion

- nurse juli <3

- but let's say someone had put their hands on you

- would patch you up the same way, and apologize profusely for not being there with you

- tuck you into bed and fetch mazelinka to keep an eye on you throughout the night incase of a concussion

- would most definitely be self destructive and seek that mf out

- maybe not successfully, but would try his hardest

- "i'll be back in the morning, get some rest"

- "I can find them myself if I want to, you know"

- embarrassed blush

- because he KNOWS you can take care of yourself

- "of course, but right now you're hurt. as your partner, i will do what must be done on your behalf darling"

- probably shows up the following morning with battle scars of his own

- the guards found you in the garden, passed out in the maze

- blood trickled down your arm, a large gash marking your bicep

- ran you up to the palace and immediately to the medical wing

- them]n nadia gets word

- the calm, collected queen act disappears

- abandons anything she's doing, anybody she's talking to

- "we will finish this at a different time, i have more important matters to attend to"

- she is so worried and it's honestly adorable

- very much giving "where tf are they?" energy

- god i love her so much

- anyways um

- asks the nurses over and over what happened, if you're okay, etc.

- watches the physicians and nurses like a hawk as they clean the wound and suture the cut

- and they're so intimidated lmao they never come face to face with her literally ever

- brushes your hair back from your face as they do so

- holds your hands

- would demand that you be brought to her sleeping chamber

- so that's where you wake up! how cute

- she's laying beside you, her brows furrowed

- maybe even her eyes are a little hazy

- "y/n, sweetheart, do you remember what happened?"

- patiently waits for your answer, you're still a little groggy

- you were either attacked by an animal and passed out from the fright

- or you were attacked by an armed person and was knocked out

- either way, the guards are on it

- nadia isn't letting whoever or whatever did this get away without a fight

- the palace is meant to be a safe haven for you

- for the both of you

- "well, don't you worry, we'll take care of that"

- you try to sit up but she won't let you

- "oh no, you must stay down, y/n. you are possibly concussed from the fall"

- "oh okay, sorry"

- "is there anything i can get you?"

- the countess of vesuvia, serving you in your time of need

- "just some water would be nice"

- "of course, i'll have some brought up right away"

- i literally feel like he would just start crying straight up

- cause like he has some problems anyway

- he big sad boi

- and you coming home to the hut bleeding from a gash in the arch of your foot is not helping

- picks you and carries you to the bed without a word

- just starts examining the cut

- inanna is also very concerned

- she licks the blood from the cut, she's trying to be helpful

- meanwhile muriel is stumbling around the hut looking for anything to stop the bleeding, disinfect it, bandage it, anything

- but he's not the best about keeping that stuff in stock

- keeps looking back at you with worry in his eyes

- he doesn't know what to do

- "muriel, let me see if i can contact asra. maybe he or julian can bring me a salve. i'm pretty sure i'm gonna need stitches"

- low-key makes him feel worse

- cause he feels like he's unable to care for you and keep your safe

- even tho this was just an accident

- he's breathing really fast, his anxiety creeping

- agrees anyway, but goes to get them himself

- "i'll be back soon, just keep this piece of cloth pressed against it"

- cause you're bleeding like a lot

- inanna stays behind

- he returns very quickly with julian in tow, though he doesn't look happy about it

- leaves the hut without another word

- julian gets to work immediately

- "so, you cut your foot i see"

- smartass.

- "yeah, muriel always tells me to put on shoes when i walk in the woods but i love to feel the grass beneath my feet"

- julian chuckled at this

- "and i'm assuming you, what, stepped on a rock?"

- "...yeah, sliced it right open"

- after julian is done cleaning up the cut, he tells you to just stay off of it for a while and make sure it doesn't get infected

- once he's gone, muriel trudges back into the hut

- "muriel, baby, it was just a cut it's not a big deal"

- but his eyes look hurt, and you beckon him toward the bed

- "hey," your hands on his cheeks, "i'm okay, really"

- "sorry, i just got scared. blood is still a trigger for me and since you got hurt in my woods, i felt like it was my fault"

- "muriel, of course it wasn't your fault"

- he really needed a hug

- after this instance, he made sure to keep medical supplies in the hut and you promised to try and wear shoes in the woods more often than not

- "i'll try my best to be more careful. deal?"

- sweet lil smile

- "deal."

- "oh my god, y/n, what the hell happened??"

- you were tending the garden

- without her supervision

- and the garden sheers might have sliced into the palm of your hand

- deep

- brings you over to the sink and runs water over the cut, covering it with a towel when the dripping blood had been washed away

- girl is on the move

- cause she knows what to do! love that

- low-key a main reason why julian managed to live as long as he has

- pepi is curiously perched atop one of the counters, peering down

- finds her personal first aid kit she had stashed in the bathroom

- guides you over to sit on the counter while she tries to figure out what to do

- "damn, you really cut yourself, y/n"

- "sorry! i think i just got a little carried away"

- she giggles at that, though she is still worried about the fact that it won't stop bleeding

- gently wraps the cut in gauze and adheres it together

- places a kiss to your fingertips

- "all done! no more gardening for you!"

- "hey, why not?"

- "well you don't want that cut to open back up again and again, do you?"

- "no"

- "alright then," she smiled, moving to put away the first aid kit again, "and we're going up to the palace medical wing first thing tomorrow morning to make sure it's not infected"

- eye roll

- "yes ma'am" you mocked

- even though you know it's just because she loves you

- "but since you got hurt, you want me to bake you some cookies?"

- "only if you let me eat the dough!"

- good god do i love this man

- but he is so self-absorbed it's actually insane

- and I feel like he wouldn't even notice at first

- cause he's too focused on himself

- gazing into the mirror without a care in the world when you walked in

- "y/n, thank goodness you're home, how do you feel about these pants?"

- you just hobbled to the nearest seat, hand resting over the gash on your knee

- mercedes and melchior were lazing across a rug at the base of his mirror, their attention set on you

- "u-um, yeah, they look good"

- literally just trying not to bleed out, over here

- "good? oh really, now, y/n don't they look amazing?"

- "yes, they look ama- ow, damnit"

- then he turned around

- immediate shock and worry! oh no oh no y/n is hurt!

- mercedes and melchior walked over first, whining as they took in the cut, brushing around the edges

- lucio raced over, squatting down in front of you, and began examining the cut

- "hey, hey, what happened?"

- "i accidentally tripped on my walk in the garden and scraped my knee on the cobblestone"

- he was lightly touching around the cut, gauging how sensitive it was

- when you flinched he stopped, looking into your eyes with a soft "sorry"

- "i think i need to go to the palace infirmary"

- "oh there's no need, i can take care of you!"

- you were not convinced he could take care of you, at least not well

- "uh, lucio, are you sure?"

- he looked slightly offended, at that

- "you know, y/n, i did fight in battles at one point. i have not only tended to my own wounds, but the wounds of others, as well"

- you giggled at the thought

- "much to your protest, though, i'm sure"

- he moved to the small cabinet of medical supplies in the ensuite to your bedroom, returning to your side with it in hand

- "at points, but i don't mind helping you in the slightest"

- for all of his antics, his soft side was enough to make you fall in love all over again

- and although i know he would take care of you in literally any situation, i can't say for certainty that he would stick around and place nurse lucio for long if a person had hurt you

- attacked you

- much like nadia, the guards would be sent out without a second thought, lucio leading the pack in the search for you aggressor

[freindly-neighbourhood-anarchist]

🎰🍷dancing with him at a ball🍷🎰

🍷☾︎𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐒𝐌𝐏 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫☽︎🍷

Art by: Inozuart

Go and check out their speed paint they did of this beautiful art on youtube!

🍷☾︎𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 : 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐛𝐮𝐫, 𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐲🍷

𝐀/𝐍: Highkey simping over the TNT duo right now, ngl. Quackity is just getting better and better- Definitely gonna do these prompts with Ranboo, Tubbo and Tommy. I just think that it would be really cute to dance with them at a ball lol

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                             ☠︎︎☾︎ʀᴇᴠɪᴠᴇʙᴜʀ☽︎☠︎︎

To say it was strange to see Wilbur Soot standing near a bar and drinking a glass full of blood-red wine would be a complete understatement.

(Y/n) had never spoken to him fully before, they more so made a lot of conversation they could build off of but neither decided to go through with it. (Y/n) hung around Alex, George, Sapnap and Karl more so than the rest of the SMP.

Hence why she was forced to go to this god forbidden ball.

She sat at a stool near the corner of the huge ballroom, her body wrapped in a tight and mildly uncomfortable maroon coloured dress.

'End me.' She thought mindlessly as she took another large swig of tequila, watching everyone dance around and laugh with eachother.

George, Sapnap and Karl weren't invited to the ball, she noted.

She had heard that they weren't on good terms with Quackity as of late, and he was the one who threw this ball.

She may have been lonely at this ball, but she felt as though eyes were on her at all times. It was weird. Very weird.

Every once in a while, her eyes would land on Wilbur's tall form. He seemed lonely as well, a bored and unamused expression on his stitched face.

His eyes were kept still on Tommy who was dancing around with Tubbo and Ranboo, who both had large grins on their faces.

(Y/n) found it cute that even after dying and coming back, Wilbur still held a sort of fondness towards Tommy.

She doesn't blame him, Tommy was a good kid.

A kid that's been through too much.

The girl frowned deeply and took another shot of tequila. And just like that, the eyes were on her again. Her eyes shot from her tequila that she was swirling to Wilbur, eyes widening slightly when they met with his harsh brown eyes.

He kept eye contact, eyebrows raising slightly at her in interest before he sent her a small smile, a fake one. (Y/n) could tell it was fake from a mile away. It was one of those smiles that you give strangers as they walk passed you on a sidewalk.

Huffing out a condescending chuckle, the girl rolled her eyes at him and shook her head, drinking the last of her tequila and went back to watching everyone dance.

The action clearly stirred more curosity within him, because all of a sudden he felt himself walk over to her with a wine bottle in hand and two wine glasses in the other.

(Y/n) was snapped from her daze when she heard someone clear their throat from beside her. Her head snapped up and met with his dead-cold eyes again.

There was silence before she spoke up, her tone sharp yet inviting," Can I help you, sir?" She spoke mockingly, eyebrow raised.

Eyes swirling with amusment, the man tilted his head to the side, his white tuft of hair following with the motion along with the rest of his curly, brown locks." Mind if I sit here, ma'am?" He replied with a smiliar mocking undertone to his voice.

Clicking her tongue a little, she nodded her head to the chair on her left lazily," Knock yourself out." She droned out, frowning at the sight of her empty glass.

She was too lazy to go to the bar.

'Guess I'll die.' She thought.

"You a wine girl?" Wilbur hummed out curiously, hoping to God she'd say yes otherwise he brought another glass over for no reason and probably looked like a dumbass now-

"I'm an,' anything with alcohol in it' kind of girl." She reassured him.

'Thank fuck.' He hid his relief with sly smile," Ah, a woman after my own heart." He flirted, pouring out a glass of wine for both her and him.

She 'tched' and took the glass," You have a heart? Pfft." She grumbled, taking a long sip of the wine. The wine burned at the back of her throat before bursting into a wonderful grape flavour mixed with cherry." Mm.. Good wine."

"Very good wine." Wilbur nodded in agreement, a content look on his face.

A comfortble silence sat between them and they both decided to enjoy their wine in peace.

(Y/n) watched as Eret and Fundy joined in with Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo. They looked like good friends dancing together. Reminded the girl of how her friendship was with George, Sapnap, Karl and Alex.

Now? It's just her.

She tried to keep the friendship from falling apart, but then Kinoko Kingdom happened and everything went to utter shit.

Las Nevadas, it was wonderful. Paradise. But it wasn't for (Y/n).

So when Quackity had asked if she wanted to join him, she refused respectfully but still said she was willing to help him with whatever he needed at all.

He was flattered, but disappointed at how she had decided against joining Las Nevadas.

She always wonders how her life would've turned out if she had accepted the invite.

"You want to dance?" The question was sudden.

When she looked up at him to see if he was joking, she was surprised to see how serious yet calm his expression was.

Raising an eyebrow, she swirled the wine in her glass and crossed her legs over one another," I'm not very good at dancing."

"And you think I am?"

She gave him a confused look," Aren't you? You look like the kinda guy that would be brilliant at ballroom dancing." She hummed out.

He chuckled raspily, eyes soft," I'm flattered, but trust me, I'm no better at dancing than Tommy." He assured her.

She looked him up and down, unconvinced before she sighed a little, giving in. She was too tired to argue at this point.

She stood up from her chair abruptly, even surprising Wilbur at the fact she had agreed. Giving him a stern yet soft look, she nodded," Let's dance then, Frankenstein."

Then she made her way to the dance floor, making Wilbur scramble from his chair with an eager grin.

They stood facing eachother before Wilbur held his hand to her, a grin tilting onto his lips," May I compliment you on your appearance this evening? You are among the brightest of flowers." He spoke with suave.

The girl blushed and she took his hand quickly, squeezing it a little." No need to flatter me, Wilbur. I am very well aware my dress is rather ugly this evening." She grumbled out grouchily.

He stared directly into her eyes,"Your dress? I hadn't noticed it." He said smoothly, his eyes never left hers," I'm sure it looks amazing on you."

The music began, saving (Y/n) from having to answer. The hand on her waist was firm and soft, almost like it was keeping her safe.

They stepped in line with eachother, (Y/n) messed up every once in a while and managed to step on her own feet and Wilbur's the first couple of minutes before she finally got into the swing of things.

Glaring up at him, she pouted," You liar."

He grinned cheekily at her," Hm? I don't believe I know what you're talking about."

" Whatever you say, Mr. I'm worse than Tommy at dancing." She rolled her eyes.

"I never said I was worse than him. Honestly, anyone can be better than him at dancing. Let's face it."

For the first time that whole night, a small and genuine smile broke out across the girl's lips. Wilbur was enamoured by how her whole face lit up just by the slight tilt of her lips.

She looked beautiful.

"Leave Tommy alone, the kid tries his best." She smiled out.

"He does." He nodded earnestly, a little smile on his lips," I don't deserve him."

"You don't." (Y/n) spoke rather bluntly, but she still had a soft smile on her lips as she spoke her next words," but as much as he doesn't want to admit it, the kid needs you a lot. You're his big brother." She looked at the blonde-haired teen who was laughing at Ranboo who had spilled juice over Tubbo by accident. Her smile widened and her eyes were warm,"... you might just be the luckiest man in the world."

His breath was stolen from him at her words, and he couldnt help but agree with her due to the current circumstances.".... yeah... you could say that."

He held her closer to him by the waist, holding her other hand tightly and securly." So... Where did you learn to dance, Frankenstein?" She teased him, eyes bright with mischief.

A little laugh slipped through his lips," is this the nickname you'll be sticking to now?"

"You know it."

"Oh, great." He sighed out half-disappointedly before he decided to answer her question." When I was younger, my mother used to give me a lot of dance lessons with Technoblade. I requested them because I wanted to learn how to dance for this mermaid girl I had come to befriend."

"Oooh~" the girl raised her eyebrows suggestively," You're pretty romantic when you want to be, you know that?"

He shrugged, cheeks tinted a light pink that was barely noticable," the first time I'm hearing this." He admitted.

"Well... Frankenstein, you're pretty goddamn romantic when you want to be."

He grinned slyly," so you find me romantic, huh? Is that a sign for anything in particular, orrr?..."

The girl snorted a little," Hm? I don't believe I know what you're talking about." She repeated his own words.

He laughed," Touché, touché. You win this round."

Soon, the dance came to an end and the two were left still in eachother's arms, staring at eachother with enamoured looks on their faces.

Then the girl smiled at him," it wouldn't be bold of me to ask for another dance... Would it?" She requested, hope swirling in her gemstone-like irises.

"Not at all," A genuinely happy and charmed grin curled on his lips at her words and he held her body still," thought you would never ask, (Y/n)."

____________________________________________

⚠︎🎰 ༄𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐲༄🎰⚠︎

(Y/n) hadn't intended to be attending Quackity's party, in fact, she wasn't supposed to be attending.

She wasnt invited.

Supposing this is what she gets for not going along with Alex's whole 'Las Nevadas' gig. She prompted to stay with her friends in Kinoko Kingdom instead, thinking that Quackity wouldve done the same.

But she thought wrong.

So, so incredibly wrong.

You see, have you ever felt the feeling whenever you grow so incredibly close to someone to the point where you think you know them better than anyone else? That's how (Y/n) had felt with Alex. She was so sure that he wouldve chosen her and his friends over some nation that seemed to be setting itself up as a land of secrets and mystery.

From what she's heard, Quackity only grew all the more mysterious and distant.

He was so distant.

(Y/n) couldnt remember the last time she had seen him. The last time she's had a decent conversation.

The last time her heart fluttered around him.

She missed him, truly she did. Sometimes she debated abandoning Kinoko Kingdom in favour of running into Alex's oh-so-welcoming arms.

But her morals told her otherwise. She chose, for once in her life, to not follow her heart. But now, here she was, completely going against what her close friends had told her not to do.

She was being drawn to him again.

Using her heart to make important decisions.

And as she opened the large doors to the ballroom, all time seemed to freeze around her. Eyes shot towards her in curiosity, some with joy at being able to see her again and some with malice.

Alex was no different to the latter.

As soon as his dark eyes had met with her ethereal gemstone-like ones, he felt a buzz of electricity travel up his spine.

He couldnt diferientiate between the feeling of anger and slight awe at her beauty.

The girl fumbled with her fingers awkwardly before she sent him a shy wave, her smile soft-yet panicked as her eyes scanned over his new features.

He looked so different.

And she couldn't tell if it was the good kind of different or not.

At her shy wave, Alex cleared his throat and nodded respectfully as a goodbye to who he was talking to, which thankfully was Sam, and then he began making his way over to (Y/n).

A scowl curled onto his lips, his eyes darker than ever.

The eyes that made her feel warm and safe now froze her down to her very core.

When he was right up to her face, standing in front of her, that's when she knew--

This wasn't the Alex she had fallen in love with.

"What the hell are you doing here..." he muttered lowly to her, he grabbed her bare arm tightly- but it wasnt tight enough to hurt her, surprisingly. Then he dragged her to the exit, shoving her rather roughly outside, shitting the door behind him.

"We-well I-... If I-I'm being completely honest, I didnt exactly have a plan to come here, I just really wanted to see y-" he interrupted her.

"You didnt have a plan?? (Y/n)-- What the actual fuck makes you think I'd ever want you here?!" He was furious, eyes burning a bright fire, a fire even Sapnap couldnt withstand. " I actually cant believe you thought coming here would be a good idea. Are you actually as dumb as you were when we were still talking to eachother? You havent fucking changed."

She flinched at his harsh words but she covered up how hurt she was," Well- if you would let me explain myself, then maybe you'd understand why I'm here."

The casino owner took off his beanie, running a hand through his messy raven locks in frustration before he settled the hat back on his head," Make this damn quick. Because, in case you havent noticed, I have guests to entertain."

Gulping, the girl but her lip nervously out of habit," I know... I know I'm the last person you want to see. I know you hate my guts. But... Alex, I genuinely miss you." She spoke sincerely, eyes glassy beneath the moonlight," when I heard you were throwing this party... I couldnt help myself. I needed to see you... to hear you... to talk. God-- Just listening to you makes me so happy already." Her lip trembled," So please... let me hear you... let me see you. I'm begging... can we please talk?"

Brushing off the rush of heat that crossed his tanned cheeks, Alex looked away from her stubbornly.

He didnt want to give in easily.

But when it came to her, he was always put under a spell.

"Lo que sea.... fine." He sighed out, running a hand over his face in irritation, wincing whenever his fingers brushed over his scar." Come sit over here." He gestured to a bench that sat next to a long river that went off into the ocean, the moon reflected off of the clear water as did the stars.

The two sat next to eachother, the gap between them representing how distant they are from eachother.

"So? Talk." He prompted her, leaning back into the bench rather lazily, looking up at the sky.

Cheeks warming with happiness, she couldnt help but smile at finally being able to talk to him after so long," Thank you so much... I've been wanting to talk to you for so long after everything that happen-... What happened to your eye?" She whispered, suddenly noticing the long scar that ran over his eye and eyelid and then down to his lips.

"Oh yeah- you werent here for that," he jabbed at her," This was all Techno's doing." He gestured all over." Sorry that I'm not the perfect guy that you used to be friends with anymore."

She knew he wasnt sorry.

In fact, she knew that with his new self, he was a lot more confident.

Free.

She liked that.

Smiling at him, she shook her head," dont be silly. If this change makes you happy, then I'm happy."

His heart thumped harshly, making him clear his throat to cover up the noise in case she had heard his loud heart.

"I was just worried but... it looks kind of good on you-- err... not in a weird way or anything." She tried to cover up her slip-up," Anyways... that's not what I came here to talk abou-"

"Do you wanna dance?"

The girl's eyes widened at the sudden suggestion, gazing over Alex's features with shock. His tanned cheeks were red and he was avoiding all eye contact, eyebrows furrowed.

"... come again?" She stuttered out, her throat felt like it was closing up.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes," I asked if you wanted to dance."

The girl's heart did flips in her ribcage as her eyes fluttered,"I-... I would love to." She nodded, wobbly smile on her painted lips.

The man stood from the bench and held a hand out to her, trying his best to not smile when she eagerly grabbed it, stars in her eyes.

He moved her soft hand to his neck, making it rest there, (Y/n) then moved her other arm to wrap around his neck as well. Alex then settled his calloused hands on her pretty waist, pulling her body close to him.

He was afraid she would slip away from him again.

In truth, he had missed a hell of a lot as well, maybe even more so than she missed him.

He always debated visiting her or arranging to meet up with her, but his plans always got in the way and blurred his desire for her.

But seeing her tonight, all dressed up for him, it made him want to fall in love with her all over again.

The two swung side to side, the faint music from the ballroom guiding the two of them. Quackity rested his chin on top of her head as the girl turned her head to the side, resting her ear against his chest and listening to his thumping heartbeat.

"You look amazing." He muttered to her.

"You too... well... yeah, no you look amazing."

He chuckled lightly," why'd you hesitate?"

"Well... I wanted to think of a better word for amazing but my heart is beating too loudly for me to think properly..." she admitted.

At her heartfelt confession, Alex felt himself smile warmly for once in a long time.

He felt like a teenager in love again.

"Yeah... I feel that too." He muttered, inhaling the scent of her vanilla shampoo, biting off the dreamy sigh that threatened to spill from his lips." (Y/n)... why didnt you join me? "

The dreaded question.

"If I'm being honest... I thought you wouldve joined Kinoko Kingdom with me."

Quackity's heart clenched at the thought.

So she felt just as betrayed as he did, that makes sense to him now.

"I debated going to join Las Nevadas everyday, but I knew that meant leaving George, Sap and Karl and I felt so conflicted and just... horrible." She mumbled, feeling her eyes beginning to water," It was hard, Alex.... I wanted to see you so so bad... But I also wanted to be a good friend... I felt like I was the bad guy either way, and I just wanted to make both parties happy.... I hated being away from you... God... I hated it so much." She sniffled, making Alex pull her closer to him," seeing you now... you dont understand how happy it makes me feel..."

The man sighed a little and kissed leaned away from her, cupping her cheek and then moving it so she was face him. He tilted her head up a little so he could see her teary eyes, feeling his heart call out to her to comfort her.

He ran a thumb over her cheek, wiping away the mascara and tears and when she blinked up at him innocently, he couldnt stop himself from smiling down at her reassuringly.

"I wanted to see you so much as well... I felt my heart ache every night to see you..." he began, pressing his forehead against hers," I'm sorry for treating you like shit... you deserve so much damn better... (Y/n), I'm begging. Please stay with me, will you?"

Her breath hitched.

"Stay by my side... please?"

Her heart stopped.

"I want to be with you all the time."

Her tears stopped falling.

"I love you."

And she smiled, wider than she ever has.

"I've been waiting so long to hear that..." She whispered to him," I love you too, Alex."

He grinned down at her crookedly," Deadass?"

"On god."

"Fuck- I'm not dreaming, right?" He then had a mischievous glint twinkle in his dark eyes," Maybe you should kiss me to seal the deal?"

She snorted," you're asking me to initiate it? Dont you think you're moving a bit fast, lover boy?"

"I think you're moving too slow and that you talk too much." He stated simply before he leaned down, capturing her soft lips in a messy kiss, their lips molding together as soon as they came in contact.

It's the kind of kiss that inspires stars to climb into the sky and light up the world.

His hands flattened against her back... and she was up on the tips of her toes, kissing him as fiercely as he was kissing her... He clung to her more tightly, knotting his hands in her hair, trying to tell her, with the press of his mouth on hers, all the things he could never say out loud...

And as her lips rubbed against his chapped ones, she knew her life was set with his, nobody else.

[arvandus]

26.   “Is it wrong that I want to kiss you?” with the bird man hawks? 🥺

This one was so much fun to write! It's nothing but pure, cute fluff and was a breath of fresh air for me after writing a lot of heavy stuff lately. This one does involve the topic of drinking, but it's handled responsibly and is more the... aftermath of said drinking. But if that's a sensitive topic for you, send me a message and I can do a different plot with the same prompt. :)

Word Count: 2350 Warnings: Fluff, one drunk birb

26.“Is it wrong that I want to kiss you?

“Wow.... that was.... a great party.” Keigo slurred as you helped him out of your car, feathers and all. He stumbled against you, and you braced yourself as his wings flapped clumsily in an attempt to regain his balance. Good thing you didn’t let him fly home...

“Yeah.” you replied as his feathers tickled against your cheek.

“There were so many people!” His arm was propped around your shoulder now, and you tried not to groan under his weight.

“Yup.” You agreed again.

“And everyone was so nice...” he smiled drunkenly, his eyes glassy and unfocused.

You rolled your eyes in amusement. “I know.”

You began walking him up the small set of stairs to the foyer of his luxury apartment complex, his eyes deeply focused on the steps beneath his feet. Thank God the place had an elevator; after all, Hawk’s penthouse was on the top floor. Twenty stories up.

Once you’d gotten him into the elevator, he leaned against the wall, his head tilted back against the cold glass, eyes staring up. “And that punch was so good...”

“Yup, you drank a lot of it.” You teased as you pressed the button for his floor.

He lifted his head to grin at you with flushed cheeks. “I kinda want more.”

You pinned him with a look. “No.”

Keigo chuckled and leaned his head back again. He looked like he was about to fall asleep standing up when the elevator finally dinged its destination and the doors opened.

“Come on, you...” you reached your hand out to him, and Keigo stood for a moment before stumbling slightly. A giggle erupted from his lips.

“Oop, dizzy...” he laughed.

You grabbed his arm and put it back around your shoulder. “I got ya.”

You helped lead him out of the elevator and into his penthouse, which he’d given you the key to before you’d even let him get into your car earlier. As you were unlocking his door, his put a hand to his head and chuckled.

“...Man, I’m really drunk, aren’t I?” he mumbled.

“Yyyyup.” You grinned.

You got Keigo inside and sat him down on the couch so you could close and lock the door behind you.

Keigo began tipping over onto the couch cushions. “I’m just gonna.... lie down...”

You rushed over to him and grabbed onto his arm. “Oh no you don’t. C’mon, let’s get you into bed.”

“But everything’s spinning...” he complained.

“Your wings are gonna make you fall on your face as soon as you’re asleep.” You chided.

You pulled him up by his bicep before shifting your hold to his hand. It was warm, his fingers wrapping around your palm comfortably. Your tummy did a little flip at the contact, but you did your best to ignore it as you began leading him to his room.

“Sorry ya gotta take care of me...” Keigo mumbled.

You glanced back at him to see his eyes slightly downcast in shame.

You paused and turned to face him. “Don’t worry about it. I just wanted to make sure you got home okay. I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t.” Keigo kept his eyes down, so you cupped his cheek in your hand to have him look at you. “Besides,” you smiled, “it’s not like this happens all the time.”

Keigo stared at you, golden eyes wide in wonder. “...You’re really nice.” He said.

You grinned. “I know. Only to you though.”

Keigo stared at you for a moment longer before his vision unfocused again. “I gotta pee.”

You choked back a laugh at his candidness. “Okay. Let’s get you to your room. You have a bathroom there, remember?”

Once you got him into his room and helped him stumble into his bathroom, you quickly went over and began prepping his messy bed for him, making sure the covers were pulled down for him to get into. Keigo came out a moment later and managed to make his way over to his bed before sitting down on the edge of his mattress.

“Wow, look at you, walking by yourself!” you teased.

“Ha, ha.” He replied sarcastically.

“Alright, jacket off... wait. How the heck do you do this with your wings??” you demanded, confusion written across your face.

“There’s hidden zippers beneath the wings.”

“Ohhhh....” You found them once you knew what you were looking for; it was well-hidden in the fabric. You sat behind Keigo on the bed so you could undo the zippers. Once that was done, you began to tug his jacket off his arms. It was awkward and clumsy, and it caused you and Keigo to giggle at each other as you held onto the end of his sleeve and he struggled to pull his arm out.

The giggling settled down once the item was removed, and you draped it over the edge of his laundry basket. Keigo watched you silently as the alcohol swam warmly in his veins. Or maybe it was something else... something that seemed to grow in intensity the longer he looked at you.

You turned to face him and immediately the words that had been swimming in his inebriated head found their way to his lips. “You’re... really attractive.”

You stood there, dumbfounded for a long moment, before you brushed off his compliment. “And you’re really drunk.”

“No, I mean it. You’re fucking stunning.”

Every inch of your body felt hot with embarrassment. “Okay, Romeo. Let’s get those boots off...” You broke your gaze with him and kneeled down in front of him.

As you helped him undo the laces of his boots, he watched you with a hammering heart. You were being so nice to him, tending to him like this. You’d been friends for some time, and he trusted you implicitly by this point... but this level of care was new for both of you. It brought forth new feelings that his dizzy mind struggled to wrap around, and he wasn’t quite sure what to do with them. But the longer he watched you, the more he wanted to pull you close and...

“...Is it wrong that I want to kiss you?” The words spilled from his lips, and somewhere behind the cloudy haze something screamed in panic. Did he really just say that out loud?

You had just pulled his last boot off his foot, and stared at him in shock, your mouth slightly open. Did he really just...? You stared into his eyes as you felt your heart flutter in your chest like a caged bird begging to be set free. God, it was tempting, wasn’t it? You were already so close to each other. Close enough to see the sunset gold of his eyes, close enough to stare at his slightly parted lips framed in stubble... He began to lean towards you as your eyes locked, and for the briefest of moments you froze, your body rooted in hope. But the scent of the alcohol still on his breath quickly brought you back to your senses, and you put your hand over his face.

“Knock it off, you flirt.” You pushed him back with your hand until he fell back into his bed.

You began to help him get his legs under his covers.

“I’m not a flirt!” he protested indignantly. “Why does everyone think I’m a flirt??”

“Because you flirt with everyone.”

You began pulling the covers up over him.

“Well now you’re just makin’ shit up.” He grumbled. You pinned him with a knowing look, and he fumbled for new words. “I’m nice to people. It’s different.”

You rolled your eyes at him and stood up. “I’ll be right back, I’m gonna go get you some water and pills, okay?”

Keigo sulked beneath his blankets as you walked away. When you came back, he was quietly staring at the wall, his face pulled into a pout.

“I wasn’t flirting...” he mumbled. “I really meant it.”

You froze yet again before pulling yourself together. You set the water and headache medicine on his nightstand as his eyes followed your actions.

“You should really get some sleep.” You said.

“I guess...” he mumbled.

You began to leave his room, but something made you pause in his doorway, your hand on the doorframe. You looked back at him, to see him still sulking, his eyes avoiding yours. Was he actually hurt...?

Maybe it wasn’t just the alcohol talking.

“I’m gonna go now. But... um....” – you nibbled on your lip briefly – “if you remember this conversation tomorrow, and you still feel that way, then... we can talk. Y’know, if you want.”

Sleep was already starting to descend on Keigo, his eyes half-closed, but he perked up slightly. “...really?”

You smiled and gave a small nod. “Good night, Keigo.”

The next day, you kept yourself busy as you tried to keep your mind off of the previous night’s exchange. But it didn’t help very much... nothing was powerful enough to keep you from glancing at the time every twenty minutes or so, wondering if or when Keigo would wake up. By mid-afternoon you were just about to give up and chalk the entire event up to the brainwashing effect of alcohol, when your phone rang.

You nearly leapt at your phone, and your breath froze in your lungs as you stared at the name.

Keigo. He was calling you. That was already unusual for him... Usually, he preferred to text.

You took a deep breath to calm your quaking nerves before answering.

“Hey there.” You said.

“Hey.” He replied.

There was a slight pause before you asked your next question. “Sooo... how you feeling?”

Keigo’s laugh bubbled from the other end. “Not my best, but I’d be feeling a lot worse if it weren’t for you...”

You chuckled. “We’ll just add it to the list of reasons why I’m the superior friend.”

Your jab made Keigo laugh again, and he hummed with amusement. “Don’t get ahead of yourself there, little dove. I still remember that one New Year’s party...”

You scoffed at him in mock offense. “Low blow. You said you wouldn’t bring that up...”

Keigo laughed at your defensiveness, and you couldn’t help but laugh with him.

“Anyway,” Keigo continued, “I called to say thanks. Y’know... for all your help last night.”

You cleared your throat slightly against the tightness that you felt. “Yeah, sure. You know I’ll always be there for you.”

Keigo’s voice came through soft and serious, his usual mirth absent. “Yeah... I know....”

A long awkward silence lingered, and you began to feel dizzy before you realized you were holding your breath. You took a quiet inhale of air.

“Okay, well I guess I’ll let you...” you started.

“Wait.” He said hurriedly. “Um, there was one more thing...”

“...Yeah?”

“About last night...” – there was another pause as he gathered his words – “I wanted to apologize if I made you... uncomfortable at all.”

Disappointment began to fill the space that hope was holding. “Oh,” you were glad Keigo couldn’t see the defeat in your eyes as you let out a small laugh. “Don’t worry about it, Keigo. I knew you were drunk.”

There was another pause before he spoke again, his words carefully chosen. “I was, but... I also meant it.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you could have sworn you’d heard wrong. “...What?”

“Do you want to meet up for coffee?” he asked.

Coffee... coffee was normal for you two, right? You two always met up for coffee. Even so, you couldn’t help the next question that rushed clumsily from your mouth.

“You mean... like... as friends? Or...?”

He gave a soft chuckle that made your nerves sing, even through the phone. “Like a date.”

You did a silent happy dance in your living room, your fist pumping the air in jubilant victory before you answered him, your voice forced into calmness. “Ahem, yeah. Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”

“... Did you just do your happy dance?” he teased.

“What?! No! Why would you say that??”

“Oh my God, you totally did, didn’t you? You’re so cute.”

You gave an appalled gasp. “Are you spying on me??” You began looking out your window to check the rooftops. They were empty, though.

“What? No, I’m not a creep!”

“Then how did you know?” you whined.

“Because your voice changes after you do a happy dance.”

“No it doesn’t!”

“Oh, it totally does.” He gloated. “It’s gets a little squeakier.”

“My voice does not squeak!”

“Like a little bird.”

“Oh, I hate you.”

“Hm, I’m pretty sure you don’t.” You could visualize the cocky grin on his face.

You huffed. “Just for that, you owe me dinner.”

“Name the time and place, little dove.”

Your face spread into a big smile, your skin feeling hot. “Okay... My place at 6.”

“Whoa, hang on a sec, I’m not gonna have you cook for me on our first date.”

“Who said I was cooking? You’re bringing dinner.”

Keigo chuckled again. “Fair enough. But then I’m gonna take you out on a real date.”

“Fair enough.” You echoed back.

There was a slight pause, neither one of you wanting to hang up on the other.

“6 o’ clock is so far away...” You finally complained.

“It really is, isn’t it?” Keigo agreed.

You bit your lip with a grin. “You could always come over now...”

“I could, couldn’t I?” Keigo mused.

“You still gotta bring food, though.”

“Any special requests?”

You cocked your head to the side thoughtfully. “Surprise me. You know what I like.”

“Yes... yes I do.” He replied.

His comment made a new wave of heat wash over you. “Cheeky bird.” You grumbled.

Keigo gave a laugh. “Alright I’m gonna head over.”

“Okay.”

“One more thing...” he said, before you could hang up. The playfulness dropped from his voice, and his next words came through softly. “I’m glad you helped me out last night.”

Your heart flipped and you smiled. “Me too.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay.”

Once you hung up, you did yet another happy dance.

[astro-rain]

delicate; b.barnes

chapter twenty - “collateral damage”

delicate masterlist

word count: 2k

synopsis: bucky and y/n deal with the emotional fallout of her departure from wakanda.

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

warnings: mildly suggestive content, nothing explicit, 18+ readers please.

The flight home was wretched. Sleeping on the jet was impossible. Every time she shut her eyes she saw his face. If her mind did somehow manage to drift off to sleep, Y/N dreamed of him and woke up trying not to rip her hair out.

"We can still stay in contact, right?" Bucky asked as they were walking back from the waterfall.

They had left their catharsis by the water, still upset, but now calmer and more logical.

"I don't think so..."

"What? Why? It's not like we don't have the technology to do it."

"I know, but.." Y/N trailed off, trying to think of a sensible excuse.

Obviously they could stay in contact if they wanted. But any kind of phone call would be able to be tracked or recorded. That, and she didn't want him to hang on to someone who betrayed him. She couldn't imagine the guilt she'd have hearing Bucky's "I miss you's" or "Baby doll's" from miles away, knowing she lied to him.

"You don't even have a phone..."

"That's an easy problem to fix."

"I know... I just think you should focus on the rest of your healing, and... you know, I'll have a lot of work once I get back...." she took a breath. "I don't know if it's super healthy for us to cling on to each other when it... may be better to move on..."

"Move on?"

"Yeah..."

Bucky stopped walking and turned to face her. They both stood still and he stared at her, confused, as if he was trying to figure something out. He knew her well. She was scared he'd see right through her.

"So let me get this straight. When you're here we can talk all the time and... plenty of other things. But when you're away we can't even call each other?"

"Bucky..."

"That's not all, is it?"

She sighed. "I'm just... worried... about- like-... getting in trouble. If someone overhears or tracks a phone call...What if someone finds out where the 'Winter Soldier' is and comes here to exact revenge?"

That was partly true. She'd never want anyone bad to find out where he was. But no one was tracking her phone calls; she wasn't really a person of interest. In all likelihood, it probably wasn't something she'd have to be terribly worried about.

However, if anyone overheard or saw Bucky on the phone, they'd know it was her, and she doubted anything she could say would convince them that she didn't tell him about the arm.

Or maybe no one would find out. She just didn't want to take the chance. The last time she took a chance, this happened. She wasn't willing to do it again.

He stared at her with dejected eyes. "You know you don't have to worry about me. I'll be okay."

She rested her hands on his forearms and laughed sadly. "Bucky, I don't think I'm ever not gonna worry about you."

He was already in her heart. She didn't think he could leave now.

He let his eyelids fall shut. "I really don't want you to go."

She closed her eyes as well and let her forehead rest against the top of his chest.

"I know. I'm sorry. I don't want to leave you either. But you're gonna do so well, even without me. And every day I'll wake up and think 'wow this man is sexy and has good coping mechanisms! I wish I was him!'"

In the midst of his sadness, she made him laugh. It was a despondent, quiet laugh, but she managed to lift his mood all the same - even if just a little bit. She'd always make everything better.

He gazed down at her, eyes heavy, and without even thinking about it... "I love you."

She looked down at the grass below her feet. "Buck..."

"I do. I'm sorry but I do."

She wrapped her arms around the middle of his back, pressing her face into the crook of his neck. He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her in tight, one arm up her back and the other cradling her head.

In the tiniest whisper, she let the truth flow out from her chest. "I love you, too."

The clouds provoked her, so peaceful and quiet, while her head was a big, loud mess. Y/N leaned her head on the window, glaring at them and wondering if she should've said what she did. That she loved him. Internally, she debated whether or not it would make things worse. But she wasn't going to see him again; she might as well have left him with the truth.

Time was lost to her. She thought she would be landing soon, but she couldn't be sure. She couldn't be sure of anything anymore.

-

Bucky sat at the lake - their lake - and just stared into the water. It felt so strange to him, that she was gone. One minute she was here and now he was just... alone.

It was so quiet. Too quiet. Of course being alone was quiet, but after Y/N left, the air just felt empty.

He wished he could talk to her. Whenever he was upset, all he wanted to do was talk to her.

"So, is this... d-do we say goodbye now?" he asked when they got back to his hut.

"Yeah..." she sighed. "yeah."

"Are you going back to Europe?"

"Yes. Belgium. Haven't been in my apartment in forever."

"Belgium," he wondered. "It's nice there. Safe. What are you gonna do for work?"

"Probably just continue where I left off on my research. Fancy brain stuff, ya'know?"

He grinned, proud. "My smart girl."

She looked around her, as if watching for something. Or someone.

"Buck, I think I have to go now."

"Just one more minute? Please. I wanna remember you like this. Not sad and crying."

Y/N smiled, grabbed his hands, and kissed his knuckles. Both flesh and metal. Because they were both part of him and she loved him. All of him.

Then, she placed both his hands on either side of her face. Softly she said, "remember me like this," before bringing their lips together.

He looked down at his vibranium arm, twisting his wrist to watch how the plates whirred.

Since the first moment he put it on, he had been using it to be gentle, loving, and affectionate. This arm was good. This arm wasn't used for death and destruction and violence.

With this arm he held her, kissed her, loved her. And now she was gone. And now it felt like dead weight.

— ONE WEEK LATER —

Whenever Bucky looked at his bionic arm he saw her. It began to make him sad.

His hair had been getting longer and longer. He could cut it now, now that he had two arms. But every time he tried, all he could do was stare at the arm and hear her voice in his head.

"That's your heart. That's you. You're all heart, Buck. You're so deeply, wonderfully human. All the way to your bones."

That was the first time he expressed real distress about missing a limb, he recalled. That was the first time they kissed. Funny how that transition was made, funny how she could remedy some of his worst emotions.

His days were boring and uneventful and nearly silent. He sat alone a lot. There was no laughter anymore, none of her laughter. There was no more holding, no more kissing, no more loving. The arm just felt... wrong? Like what it was born from had died.

-

In Belgium, Y/N felt incredibly uncomfortable. She knew she just needed to adjust to the change, after getting to used to life in Wakanda - life with Bucky. Her vacant apartment didn't feel as homey.

It had been, what, a year and a half? About a year and a half since she had been home. About a year and a half spent with Bucky.

Her apartment seemed so... barren. Void of life. And cold. She was used to the Wakandan heat. When she closed and locked the door behind her, she looked at the golden square that the sun cast through her window. It reminded her of that heat.

Y/N sighed, cursing her very own hippocampus for providing her with memory.

"God, I wish you had an AC in here."

She was in his bed. Well, she was on top of him, straddling him, in his bed.

"Is it hot or is it just you?" he joked, poking at her sides and trying to not pout at the loss of her lips.

"Ha. Ha," she rolled her eyes and brought her face back to his.

"Wait," Bucky said and gently pulled her face away to examine it. "You are a little warm."

"It's okay," she quickly tried to resume their previous activity.

"Hold on-" he got cut off as Y/N kept pecking his lips over and over.

"I have-"

Kiss.

"An idea-"

Kiss.

Lightly he pushed her shoulders away, nearly giggling. "Stop it! Just wait a second!"

Bashful, she conceded. "What?"

"Just-" he reached out and put the vibranium hand on her forehead, effectively cooling her down a bit. She closed her eyes and flashed a goofy smile.

"That feels nice."

Then, suddenly, he wrapped both his arms around her back and flipped them over so that he was on top. He smirked.

"Oh yeah, you just wait."

She hung her keys up and took a deep breath, absorbing the emptiness. This was her new normal; she just had to get used to it.

-

"I just- I don't really... I don't think I need it," Bucky tried to explain.

Want it, he thought. I don't want it. I can't stand to even look at it.

"You don't need it?" Shuri asked.

"Yeah, it-uh it takes a bit of getting used to and I think I just need a break. And I wouldn't want to damage it so... figured it's better with you."

He was better at lying than he gave himself credit for.

"Okay," Shuri accepted his answer and began to detach the bionic arm. "But you let me know if it's uncomfortable or painful anywhere so I can adjust it. Alright?"

"Alright. Thank you."

Finally he was rid of it- that cursed metal weighing down on his soul. Maybe now he could focus on other things. Maybe. It didn't seem likely...

However, as the days drew closer, it did make him slightly - only slightly -  less nervous about the trigger word experiment. Now he didn't have a weapon attached to him. Though he reckoned he was the weapon.

No. He wasn't supposed to think like that. He knew Y/N wouldn't want him to. He knew she would say something like, "You aren't what they tried to make you into. You're you and all HYDRA's awfulness can't change the good at your core. My Bucky. You're perfect."

He'd deny to high heavens that he was the farthest thing from perfect. Bucky had no clue how she could say such things. But her conviction never faltered.

Soon enough the day came. The experiment. All he could think about was how she was supposed to be there. He didn't want to do this without her.

But now, he found himself sitting at at a fire on some mountain with one of the Doras. It was dark and it was scary. He was scared.

"It is time," said Ayo.

Nevermind want. He wasn't sure if he could do this without her.

"Are you sure about this?"

"I won't let you hurt anyone."

He was still scared. He still didn't trust himself. But, staring into the fire, he thought back to a past conversation.

"You don't have to trust yourself. That's hard enough as it is and Hydra didn't make it any easier. You just trust me, alright? ... And I will not let anything happen to you."

Bucky didn't have to trust himself. He just had to trust her. Even if she wasn't here, even if she was on another continent, all he had to do was trust her. When Ayo began reciting the trigger words, that was the one thing thing he held onto. The one thing that kept him afloat.

His trust in her.

delicate taglist: @emmojoy @bakugouswh0r3 @thefridgeismybestie @strivingforelegance @ilovespideyyy @xpurpleglitter @bluelakeee @darkacademic2 @eclipsedplanet @paradisedixon @crazy-beautiful @coffee--writes @lilithknight1111 @buckybarnesishot310 @softladyhours @alwayssandy @those-sea-green-eyes @hero-ically @devilswaldorf @cc13723things @small-death-and-codeine @avengersgirllorianna @cataves @thatbitchsposts @talktomeaboutthestars @surrealpsycho @headheartbellarke @bubbly-moonwarrior @bluemoon-icecream @buckeyecreates @augustbucky @itsthemaree @undiadeestos

[stcveskent]

his comfort ; andy barber

warnings: fluff, some old trauma idk?

pairings: Andy Barber x Reader

requested by cevansmarvel

----------

you were working on some papers, when you heard your phone ring, you sighed and looked for your phone, and looked at the contact name, Andy💞

A huge smile on your face as you pressed the green button, and placed it on speaker.

"Hey Good Morning!!" His cheerful voice made you chuckle.

"Good Morning to you too, Andy, how are you doing?" You asked as you continued talking and doing your work at the same time.

"I'm great, now that i heard your voice." He flirted, typical Andy . You mocked him on this one and he laughed, at how funny you sounded. Andy's been your everything since you were 5. You went to same kindergarten, to same school years later, and your friendship never changed into anything. You were always with him, no matter what. Your mothers, both were great friends, and had kinda similar pasts, but other than Andy's dad, your father abandoned you and your mother because he didn't wanted both of you.

But Andy, was always there for you, and you were there for him too. He always loved seeing you, at his place, anywhere. During college, Andy met a girl, Laurie , who he eventually fell in love with and got married too. It hurt you a lot, because you were in love with him since your 6th grade, but never told him. Laurie, started being friends with you first, and then started her plan of stealing Andy from you.

When he got married, you've never felt that broken, ever in your life, and he forgot you later. You never married, never dated never did anything, because you felt that if you too, would get married, then you couldn't give him the love he deserves in your life.

Everything turned upside down, when on work you were talking to your colleagues while they randomly switched on the T.V and randomly pressed the news channel number, and the news stated something which shocked you.

Jacob, Andy and Laurie were displayed on the screen, and it showed some murder news, Jacob could ever do that? you were shocked, and you saw  Andy after millions of years....the look on his face showed how broken he looked, and you wanted to rush towards him right now. Your collegues started to call you, at how shocked you looked.

You walked out of your office, right then, and started driving towards his place, which he hasn't changed since the time he got married. You knocked on the door, feeling uneasy, but he needed you, and you too needed to see his face. Just a minute later, a sad Andy opened the door, and his eyes widened at the sight of yours.

"Y-y/n?" He stuttered, and you passed a small weak smile, and he hugged you. The warm feeling of his, hugging you, and your burying your face in his chest, just comforting for both of you.

"I-i missed you, so so much." He confessed, a smile over your face as you kept hugging you.

"I missed you too, Andy, so much." You replied and he smiles pressing a kiss on your forehead.

"Come in." He says and you walk in with him, you two got comfortable, and he started talking about how he felt, and started talking about Jacob's case, you felt bad for that man, he looked so broken, as he talked. He even told you about how him and Laurie were not the same anymore. Just then you heard Jacob and Laurie get in the house.

"Y/n? After so many years?!" Laurie asked and you smiled, and she hugged you before she excused herself to go upstairs, and there comes Jacob.

"I remember you." He said and you chuckled.

"Me too, Jay!! How are you doing?" You asked and he smiles before answering.

"good actually." He says and goes upstairs to his room, later, you and Andy talk about olden times..and then you leave the place..and try to always stay in contact with him, since then.

It was four years ago. Jacob, died in a car accident, and Laurie, its wasn't a surprise that they filed for a divorce and also, got married the next month with someone.

Since then you always visited Andy, and never left his side.

"Can you spend the night at my place? Movie nights just like the old days?" He asked and you smiled, only if he saw how happy he made you.

"Yes, i'll be there. See you tonight!" You said and he greets again before you hang up. Your smile wasn't leaving you the whole day, and everyone has noticed it. Well, you then got into shit load of work and concentrated, and got of work as soon as possible.

As soon as you stepped at your place, you knew what you were going to be looking like, natural. And so you did, and drove to his place.

You met Andy, and he gave you the biggest hugs as possible, and all your stress would just leave, and then he plays some series on the T.V. You two are focusing on how the two lovers are trying to tell how much they love each other, but don't know how to talk. A smile on your face as your head on the pillow.

"What're you smiling at?" He asked, getting closer, sipping, a glass of soft drink, because you're non alcoholic and he always backs away from alcohol near you.

"Two people, so much in love, can't express how they feel." You replied and he chuckles.

"Romantic, Y/n, i missed the girl." He confessed, and everytime he mentioned something like that would make you go red. He would do it often, lets say, Andy loves getting flirty with you.

"God that smile!" He says and you hit him playfully before pulling the blanket a little bit more closer, and he noticed it why you did that, and pulled you closer to him, that you were on top of him.

"What're you doing?" You asked as you laid on him comfortably, and he pulled the blanket on both of you.

"Giving you more warmth, you feel cold always." He says and you smile before concentrating on the scene again.

An hour later, you were asleep, soft snores made him smile, he was feeling something, he wasn't sure of and later, his head rested on yours, sleeping.

"You could've saved me, Dad, but you didn't."

"I tried my best! Jacob, i love you."

"You're a liar Dad, a big liar!" Jacob points his finger and Andy's tears falls, at the sight of his son, being so angry, that he couldn't solve it.

"I hate you Dad!"

"Jacob no—"

and just then Jacob is hit by a truck, making Andy scream in horror.

He wakes up gasping sweat on his forehead and he looks at you, sleeping peacefully. His hand on his chest, as he tries to calm himself down. He moves you gently and walks to the bathroom.

He stares in the mirror, he looked awful, he missed his son so much, he was having nightmares about him, only if Laurie didn't do that years ago.

You woke up, loss of warmth woke you up, and looked around, to see no one there, but you heard sniffles, and you knew whom it was.

You walked in the bedroom, as the bathroom door was open and he cried, burying his face in his hands, not gonna lie, that sight broke you into millions of pieces, and you stayed strong, walking in, lowering your voice, so it would be calming for him.

"Andy?" You softly called and he wiped his tears looking at you.

"You're awake? Sorry if i woke you—"

"You saw it again?" You asked and he nodded, tears forming in his eyes again, you felt worse. He hugged you, burying his face in your neck, you were his comfort, he never told anyone about.

"It's okay, its okay." You said as you rubbed his back.

"My son hates me." He says, stuttering.

"No! Andy that's not true at all, Jacob loves you, you were the best dad, Andy you and I both know what happened and what killed him. You knew his last words, he said he loves you, forever." You spoke, and every of that word was right, and he nods.

"But what if i could've save him? He would be with me—"

"You didn't know that, its not your fault, Jacob always loved his father, because his father never lost his trust in him. Jacob loved his Father, because he made him feel like he mattered in the world and no one else, Jacob loves his father very much." You said, and he nods before hugging you again.

"Thank you, you really are the best!" He spoke and kissed your cheek.

"I get that a lot, from you honestly." You said and he chuckled before you kiss his forehead. He loved these little small gestures you did. Now you brought him to bed, and he starts to talk to you, and you get involved in the conversation.

"Come on Andy, now you really need to sleep." You said and he nods, you stoof up before he questions.

"Hey where are you going?"

"Couch?"

"No we're sharing our bed, come on you'll get cold." He teased and you rolled your eyes.

"I want you to sleep comfortably, you won't be able to sleep with me."

"We've shared beds many times y/n, come on, I won't hurt you." He said making you laugh as you join him.

While talking both of you fall asleep, your head on his arm and his other arm, pulling you closer. Maybe if you and Andy were together this would be so normal for you, to feel it every day, but you felt like you lost your chance there, with the love of your life.

------

hope you like it 🥺💞

[quillsandtypos]

Ski Trip

Summary: when the reader agrees to go on the annual ski trip up to the mountains with her boyfriend, Luke, and her friends she expected to go looking at mountains. But what she ends up doing doesn't require much hiking

Pairings: alive!Luke Patterson x reader

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: THIS IS NSFW FOREPLAY SMUT PEOPLE

If any of you have ever had a conversation with me and you read this fic, no you didn't

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

"What are you two doing tomorrow?" Julie asked you.

You rolled into your stomach and propped your head up in your hands. “I’m not sure, but I know what we're doing next weekend, unfortunately.”

That peaked Julie’s interest, you weren’t usually much of a complainer. “Why unfortunately?” she questioned.

“Because I'm going on the Ski trip with him,” you whined. You wanted to spend time with Luke, you just didn't wanna go on the trip.

“Oh my god, you get to go?” she excitedly asked.

“Not helping,” you commented.

Julie smirked. “Sorry not sorry, I’ve been trying to get you to go for the past two years. And the first year, I couldn’t even go,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, so why would I have gone if you and Flynn weren’t even gonna be there?” you asked. As if on cue, Flynn walked down the stairs.

“Heard you guys were talking about me, all good things I hope?” she spoke as she walked down the stairs.

“Always,” you said, somewhat sarcastically.

She motioned for you to scoot over so she could have some space on the couch.

“So, if we’re done talking about me, did I hear someone say something about the ski trip?” Flynn questioned.

Before you could open your mouth Julie was already telling Flynn about how you were coming on the trip.

“You are?” Flynn squealed.

You tried to not get excited from their joy, but it was impossible; they were contagious.

You shyly smiled. “Yes, I’m going.”

“Yayyy!” Flynn yelled. The girl was practically jumping up and down.

“Oh who are you sharing a room with?” Flynn asked.

“Luke and I are,” you answered.

The girls exchanged a look you knew all too well.

“Shut up!” You covered your face with a pillow.

“We didn’t say anything!” they protested in almost complete unison.

You could feel your cheeks burning up. “Yeah, but you thought it,” you argued.

“Well whether we thought it or said it, you’re sharing a room with your boyyyyyyyfriend,” Flynn sang.

“If you guys start sing teasing me, I will leave,” you threatened.

“Don’t you need us to pick out your outfits?” Julie remembered.

“Oh, shit, yeah.”

“So in other words you have no leverage?” Flynn realized.

“I’m your ride home,” you reminded her.

“Outfits it is, but do not think we will be forgetting about this!” Flynn cried as she walked up to your bedroom.

“Whatever Flynn!” you yelled back.

“She’s right you know,” Julie slyly commented.

You just huffed in response.

The two of them did a very good job at helping maximize your california wardrobe for the mountains. Granted you had to go buy a couple things in advance, but overall, you felt confident that you could bear the cold of the mountains.

“Alright, I think you’ll survive,” Flynn proclaimed.

You closed your suitcase, and surprisingly you didn’t even have to sit on it.

“Thank you guys, I really appreciate it.”

“No problem, it was our pleasure, especially since you’re actually coming this year,” Julie said.

You dropped them both back off their houses and they were nice enough to spare you from embarrassing you in the car ride.

...........

You heard someone creeping up behind you as you grabbed your stuff to head to your second class, and as you felt arms wrap around your waist you knew it was Luke.

You turned to face him. “So I was thinking if we get one of the window rooms then we can see the snow when it falls,” he proposed.

Your face lit up. “Wait, it’s gonna snow when we’re up there?” you excitedly asked.

He happily watched your beaming face “I mean that’s what the weather said.”

“Oh my god! I haven’t seen snow since-” you paused, “actually I don’t remember, but it’s been awhile.”

“Well there’s a good chance that’s gonna happen,” he said.

“You know you’re actually required to show up to school for them to allow you to come right?” you teased. Though originally it had been a legitimate concern.

He licked his lips. “I’ve been coming everyday so I could come on this trip,” he defended himself.

“Coming to school and staying in school are two very different things Patterson,” you playfully reminded him.

He leaned in closer and his voice got quieter. “And what’s that?”

You resisted the urge to swallow and pulled away from him. “One is what I’m doing right now, because I need to go to class.”

He pulled his lips tightly before sighing. “You got me there,” he admitted.

“I always do,” you said, as you started walking off. You turned around to see him still standing there, you would be lying if you said it didn’t bring you joy.

“Go to class Luke!” you yelled back at him.

“You got it!” he saluted you and walked the other way.

You playfully rolled your eyes. That boy would be the death of you, but you supposed there were worse ways to go.

That Friday you didn’t have any school since the school board figured it was pointless to send a bunch of kids to school the day before they went on a ski trip. There wasn’t going to be any actual learning anyway. You usually would’ve spent some of the day at Julie’s; which you did, but today it wasn’t in the studio for practice. You figured since she had helped you pack, you could at least keep her company as she packed.

“So who are you sharing a room with?” you asked her, as she sorted through her jeans.

“Me and Flynn just figured we’d share one,” Julie said offhandedly.

You chose to not comment on how she was obviously forcing herself to be casual.

“Ah I see, do you know if Alex and Reg are coming?”

“Yeah, and get this Alex and Willie are sharing a room,” she gossiped.

“I’m calling it right now, they're gonna start dating by the end of the weekend,” you hypothesized.

“I 100% agree.”

The two of you spent the next hour or so just discussing what sort of things you wanted to do while you were there over the weekend, and of course how much Flynn was running around her house frantically changing outfits. You actually were excited about going, not necessarily about the actual trip, and about dealing with certain classmates, but you were looking forward to being with Luke and hanging out with your friends.

For some reason when you woke up the next morning you were a little nervous, you supposed it was because you had never been skiing or snowboarding for that matter.

You got ready pretty minimally considering you were soon to be on a five hour bus ride. None of your family was up yet so when Luke pulled into your driveway you slipped out the door.

“You got everything?” Luke asked.

“Everything except my chill,” you responded with a smile.

“You’re gonna be alright, and you don’t have to do anything there you don’t wanna do, so if you don’t wanna risk a broken leg, then don’t.”

Despite your anxieties, you knew he was still right.

“Thanks Luke.”

“Anything for you.”

When the two of you got to the bus everyone else in your group had already gotten there. You, the rest of the band, Flynn, and Willie had made a plan for the bus.

“We have arrived,” you announced to your friends as you and Luke took your spots.

“And just in time too, people kept trying to take your seats,” Willie reported.

“Thanks for saving them,” Luke responded.

The two of you continued chatting with the rest of your friends until the bus driver instructed everyone to take their seats. The majority of everyone slept on the way up there but you were too anxious to get there to sleep. Instead you watched youtube as Luke napped on your shoulder.

“Luke, Luuuuuuuuuuuke, Luooooooooooooooke,” you spoke. You were trying to wake him up quietly but you were starting to realize that wasn’t going to work.

Luckily Reggie was awake. “Oh he’s a heavy sleeper, that’s not gonna work.”

Reggie basically got himself so he was dangling off both sides of his chair before yelling in his ear.

Luke awakened with a jolt, looking fairly startled.

You weren’t entirely sure whether you should laugh, throw Reggie under the bus, or maybe both.

“What happened?” Luke asked.

“I woke you up,” Reggie answered innocently.

“By yelling in my ear?” Luke groggily questioned.

Reggie quickly tried to backpedal himself out of this situation. “I mean I don’t think the method is relevant, the important thing is that you’re up.”

Luke wasn’t awake enough to deal with the situation at hand. He just chose to lay his head back on your shoulder.

By the time you had made it to the hotel you were ready to collapse. Luke laughed when you flung yourself onto one the beds.

“Should I be worried?” he asked, mostly as a joke.

“No,” you smiled and rubbed your face, “I’m just really tired.”

“You couldn’t sleep on the bus?” he guessed.

“Yeah,” you groaned.

“You know what would help?” he asked.

“Do tell,” you inquired, from your face down position.

“This,” he said, before he jumped on the bed beside you. He curled his warm body around you and pulled you in.

“Better?” he asked.

“Yes,” you responded. You attempted to melt further into him. You laid there in a comfortable silence for a couple of minutes.

“Luke we should probably go do things,” you suggested. You attempted to get up but he pulled you back down.

You stayed with him but you turned around so you were facing him. “Luke?”

“Yes, y/n?”

You bit your lip, you had to admit, it was pretty cute. “Are you going to let me get up?” you asked.

He looked into your eyes lovingly. “Well if you’re trying to leave then no.”

“So that would be a no.”

“Well if you look at it that way then yeah,” he admitted with a mischievous smile on his face.

“Luke come o-” the rest of your sentence didn’t quite make it out. Your smart boyfriend decided to use your weak spot on your back against you.

“You wanna go now?” he teased.

“Not necessarily,” you lazily responded.

You could feel your willpower fading as the light stokes up and down your back sent a calm wave of chills through your body. But you knew if you didn’t use your chance now there was a good chance you weren’t getting out of that bed today.

“Luke come on we gotta go,” you whined. It’s not like you weren’t enjoying yourself, you most definitely were, but your friends had to be wondering where the two of you were.

“Alright, alright, fine,” he gave in.

“Can I have a kiss though?” he sweetly pleaded.

You gladly agreed, but you realized his plan of not leaving the room hadn’t quite ended when the kiss started leading down to your jaw.

“Luke you’re not sly,” you laughed.

“Oh is that so?” he asked, as he moved down to your jawline.

You nodded your head.

“Then why aren’t you moving?” he purred.

Okay, so he maybe had a point.

“You can tell me to stop,” he reminded you. He looked into your eyes for any sign of you wanting him to stop and waited.

“Unless of course, you don’t want me to stop?” he asked, with the biggest smirk you had ever seen on his face.

“Not necessarily,” you said, completely avoiding his eye contact.

He crawled over top of you, “What was that princess?” he asked.

You forced yourself to look into those beautiful blue eyes, and that devilish smile. “No, I don’t want you to stop Luke.”

“That’s what I needed to hear.” He bent his head down at your jawline, this time starting on the side of your jaw bone. He sucked at the skin and you bit your cheek down on a moan. He moved down from your neck pressing harder and making it harder for you to control yourself.

“Luke,” you moaned.

“Yes?”

“No marks.”

He smirked. “It’s a little late for that one.”

You rolled your eyes at his antics. “You suck.”

“I don’t think you're exactly in the position to be saying those sort of things,” he warned.

You raised your eyebrows. As if he thought you would back down that easily. “Really?”

He licked his lips and shrugged.

“Make me,” you insisted.

“Bad choice of words,” he threatened. In a second his shirt was off and one of his arms held your’s down and above you.

This time he noticed when you swallowed. “Nervous?” he asked, his lips quirked up.

He might’ve been starting to get to you, but you weren’t going to admit to it. “You wish Patterson,” you tested.

His head dipped down towards your collarbone. He lightly sucked on it and gradually increased his intensity until your body unwillingly gave you away and you gutturally moaned.

He jutted his chin out, the fire in his eyes on stage was nothing in comparison to this. “What about now?”

“Yes, Luke,” you groaned out.

He somehow managed to pull your shirt off with you laying down, and managed to unhook your bra with minimal difficulties.

His mouth softly sucked on the very top of your nipple.

“Fuck,” you moaned.

As he continued sucking at a rapid rate you felt the knot in your stomach twisting further, just as you thought it was going to release Luke stopped.

“How much do you want it?” he asked as he slowly pulled your pants down.

You were not going to give him the satisfaction of begging.

You felt a finger glide across your clit ever so slightly and back and forth he kept going, ever so slowly.

A whimper escaped your lips.

“Beg for me, that’s all you have to do,” he promised. He was most definitely enjoying himself.

He moved back up to your nipples but instead he moved as slow as he could, he was trying to break you.

“Come on princess, you know you want it,” he taunted.

A sole finger swiped down your pussy and your breath hitched.

“Luke please,” you moaned.

“What please? I think it has something to do with fucking you silly,” he hinted. He once again crawled over top of you to be able to see your face. Like a predator stalking prey.

“Please rail the shit out of me Luke,” you whined.

“That was all you had to say princess.”

[pigeonp0st]

could u do nat taking care of r when r gets sick (pretty please i beg of u)? preferably lots of cuddles 🥺🥺

idk i just love soft!nat 🥺

Natasha Romanoff x Reader #5

Words: 1,689

Warnings: none?

Notes:

I didn’t really like how this one turned out but i’ve finally decided that staring at it in my drafts with disappointed isn’t gonna make it any better...so here it is. Thank you for requesting, and sorry for spelling mistakes. Hope you enjoy!

———

It started with a cold. Just a couple of sneezes, a runny nose, and a sore throat...the usual.

It started out with you trying your best to hide it. Hide the sickness. That plan went under the moment Natasha heard you sneeze during training... she had you confessing to your sins much too quickly.

Suffice to say she immediately kicked you out of the training area with demands to take some medicine.

So she was the first to realize that you were sick, and she was the first to realize you were getting worse instead of better. She’d pester you endlessly when you wouldn’t want to talk about it, and watch over you like a hawk.

It was sweet, but you also didn’t think it was necessary. You were sure you’d be fine in three or so days.

How wrong you were.

When you wake up with a 103° fever for the third day in a row it has you layed in bed for the whole day groaning about the inequalities of the world, and begging Natasha not to get a doctor for the 100th time.

You were fine. Totally fine.

Natasha watches you with a mix of amusement and concern from the corner of the room and suggests, gently, that maybe you’re not.

You peak over your covers to glare at her in something like betrayal. “I’d be fine if you’d stop pacing and come cuddle with me.”

She seems to think about her options for a long moment and right when you think she’s going to reject you she relents with a heavy sigh and gets into the bed.

She’s so blissfully cold it has you snuggling into her side immediately, both to warm her up and use her as your own personal ice pack.

“You’re burning up,” Natasha whispers, but she pulls you closer to her—like somehow if she’s close enough she can absorb some of your pain and make you feel just that little bit better. “If your fever rises even a little bit we’re going to the doctors, okay?”

She’s concerned and worried, and even though a stranger fussing over you is the last thing you want you know you have to give her this.

As soon as you nod your head in agreement some of the tension seeps out of her body, much to your relief. As ridiculous as it is, you’re worried about her worried about you—if that makes sense.

“Around 100,000 people died from the flu in 2019,” Natasha mumbles against your forehead. She adds quietly after a moment, “just in case you were wondering.”

You were not wondering. What the fuck.

“Nat...that statistic is mostly old people.”

“Yeah,” Nat agrees, “you’ll be fine.”

And despite your body's protest, and how much of a pain it is to pull away, you do, just so you can give Natasha an incredulous look so she knows just what you think about what she’s doing right now.

Her face is unexpectedly vulnerable when you see it. She isn’t trying to bother you...she’s just…she’s worrying herself crazy.

“Nat,” you sigh, ready to embark on the most comforting and articulate speech you can think of, but a sudden fit of coughs has you turning away hurriedly to muffle your face in a pillow.

When your lungs finally decide to stay in your body for now, and Natasha stops rubbing your back, you’re too tired to try and comfort her, so instead you mumble, on the verge of sleep, “if I die; just know I love you.”

Which, in hindsight, probably doesn’t help much.

But she doesn’t sound worried when she replies, just exasperated and fond. “I love you, too.”

———-

When you wake up again it’s to a bunch of kisses and beautiful red hair.

“Stop attacking me,” you grumble, trying to push her away, but you're not able to hide your smile. God, you love your badass (soft) girlfriend.

“Look who's not dead!”

Remembering your last words to her before you went to sleep has you finally opening your eyes and giving Nat a sheepish smile. Oops. “Look who really wants to get sick…”

“My immune system is stronger than yours,” Natasha scoffs, shoving both your medicine at you and a bottle of water.

“Asshole,” you mumble, moving to open the medicine bottle only to get stopped by a hand on your wrist. “What?”

“You need to eat first.”

Thus, starts the trip towards death.

————

“Oh my god, how much farther is it…”

Your fever is finally down and back to safer levels so naturally Natasha has insisted that you’re able to go to the kitchens yourself and sit outside to eat.

You need fresh air, she said.

The room is getting stuffy, she said.

It’ll be good for you, she said.

What a fucking devil.

“You’re literally the most dramatic person to ever grace this earth,” Natasha tells you for only the millionth time since the journey began. “Maybe if you stopped sliding against the wall and crawling on the floor like you got shot three times we’d get there faster.”

“Maybe if you’d help me—”

“I tried! But apparently i’m ruining your image.” She rolls her eyes when she says that, then turns away to grin like she thinks you won’t notice.

You’re a whipped idiot who's decided to make a complete full of yourself and waste what little energy you have just to get your girlfriend to laugh, and to prove to her that you’re doing better.

You’re definitely going to regret this later, but now, in the moment; This is totally worth it. No doubt.

————

Wanda is in the kitchen.

As soon as you see her you straighten up and stop leaning on the wall (and limping). Natasha laughs next to you when she notices.

“You’re doing better, Y/N?” Wanda asks, glancing over you before returning back to the soup she’s making. For you. She’s making soup for you.

You adore her. She’s your favorite person, she’s—

“Not your girlfriend,” Wanda interjects, amused, “and doing this as a concerned teammate, and because your girlfriend asked.”

“Yes, well I love you anyways. Your cooking has gotten very good,” you say, shooting her a grin while you practically bounce to the dining chair, in stark contrast to the way you were dragging yourself down the halls.

Natasha does a good job at trying to not look confused, but she clearly is. Unfortunately, or fortunately, Wanda informs her before you get the chance to.

“Favorite person for making you soup?” Natasha asks once Wanda’s done relaying your thoughts. She narrows her eyes at you then. “Not the person who has been taking care of you since you became an avenger, not the person who—”

“It’s very good soup, Nat.”

“Very,” Steve agrees from the living room.

Natasha sighs, takes a sniff of the soup, and resigns herself to the facts she’s faced with. “Yeah...it is.”

——-

“Close your mouth,” Natasha orders, tapping your chin. You listen, waiting patiently for the beep of the thermometer to signal it’s done.

When it does, Natasha pulls it back to study it. There’s a small lapse of anxious silence before Natasha reveals the results. Then...“Ninety-Nine. You’re officially a healthy woman.”

And with that, you’re finally free of the bed rest and able to walk the halls as a newly restored human being.

“I’m free,” you shout, tackling Natasha onto the bed and kissing her all over her face, completely overjoyed. “Natasha, I survived!”

You survived. It only took an exhausting week. When your fever went down a couple of days ago it spiked to 105° a bit after and you were sure you were going to suffocate in Natasha’s worry because of it. You had to go to the medical room...it was awful.

But now Nat laughs, and laughs, and then pulls you into a tight hug to stop all of the kissing. She seems to be unburdened and lighter now that she finally has the numbers she’s wanted.

“Loving you as much as I do is really just living in this constant state of worry and fear,” Natasha says when you’ve both settled down. “I do not like things being out of my control,” she admits, kissing the crown of your head. “Especially when it involves my heart.”

“Your heart,” you repeat, curious. “Is that what I am?”

“Ignoring the worry and fear part?” Natasha teases, quirking an eyebrow.

“We both know those feelings are accompanied with a multitude of good and beautiful emotions. I feel them too.”

Natasha smiles then, soft and gentle, and full of admiration. “Yes.”

You tilt your head. “Yes...what?”

“Yes, you are my heart. Or at least you feel like you are.”

At that, with a determination and seriousness that visibly shocks Natasha you say, “i’ll protect it. I’ll protect myself, and because you're mine also, I'll help protect you. Always.”

“Always,” Natasha agrees, her fingertips trailing across your cheek. “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Yeah,” you mumble, embarrassed suddenly, “of course.”

————

“Are...are you serious?”

Natasha scowls into her tea and says nothing in response. This is fucking hilarious.

Your lovely girlfriend doesn’t seem to think so because the second she sees your face struggling not to laugh she begins glaring at you. “Don’t,” Nat warns. “Don’t you fucking dare—”

“I seem to recall you saying, and I quote, ‘my immune system is stronger than yours.’” You grin. “Oh how ironic this is.”

“I’m not sick—”

“Aw, but baby, the amount of tissues on the floor seem to be saying otherwise,” you gesture towards the growing pile, feeling absolutely no sympathy until Natasha glances at the pile with a sigh of defeat. She looks so small and sad covered in her pile of blankets...it simply won’t do. “Don’t fret, my love. I will take care of you, just as you took care of me,” you assure her, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

“First things first,” you tilt her chin up, “i’ll get Wanda to make you some soup so you can take some medicine.”

“I hate the world,” Natasha grumbles, mumbling some curses in russian.

“I love you, too.”

[sundaysundaes]

My Words, Your Thoughts (Teaser)

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Smut | Soulmate AU, Friends-to-Lovers AU

Part of the beautiful ‘Aubade’ collaboration hosted by @hyucksie​

Synopsis: As an introvert, you are familiar with the silence. Drowning yourself deep in your thoughts has been a habit you’ve become addicted to. Your life begins to change, however, ever since the day you turned twenty. Suddenly, there’s this song that’s stuck in your head, and no matter how much you yearn to hear your thoughts or be comforted by the silence, it keeps on playing. You only get to find the answer to your problem when a young, cute barista hands you a cup of coffee one day, with that song’s lyrics written on the side. And you realize that you’re not the only one who’s been hearing voices in your head.

Warnings: explicit sex, expletives, mentions of physical abuse and astraphobia (not for the main characters)

WC (Teaser): 4k

Release Date: June 27, 2021, 10 AM KST

It’s weird. It’s so weird.

It’s weird that you’ve been hearing this song replaying over and over again in your head when you’re sure you’ve never listened to it before. It’s also weird because sometimes the song sounds like the ones you often hear about on the radio—complete with instrumental accompaniment and everything—but most of the time, it just sounds like someone is humming to it. Sometimes quietly, but more often than not, vehemently like they’re having a concert in the shower, not caring if the neighbors might hear.

As someone who rarely listens to mainstream music, you don’t keep up with the trend these days but the tunes are catchy enough that you think, maybe, it’s one of those Justin Bieber’s songs people always talk about. You’re not fond of it, though, so even if you’ve heard it somewhere in a cafe or a mall, there’s very little chance you’ll be humming it in your head.

And yet, it keeps on playing.

It gets worse when it goes on for a whole day—a whole fucking day—that your brain feels like it’s seconds away from bursting into pieces. It doesn’t even sound like your voice. It seems like it belongs to a male, a bit light and a pitch higher than most. Though it sounds pleasant, the voice is unfamiliar to your ears and that’s what bothers you the most. 

Trying your best to escape, you plug in your AirPods to your earholes, choosing one of the most beloved tracks from your playlist—today, it’s Bloom by The Paper Kites—to help you relax as you lie down on your bed. But no matter how many times you turn up the volume—it’s practically turning you deaf, ironically—you can still hear that one goddamn song playing.

“Oh my God,” you groan, projecting a murderous glare at the ceiling of your room before you shriek all of your heart’s content to your pillow. “Make it stop!”

This has been going on ever since your twentieth birthday and it’s been three months since then—three months of suffering, to be exact. Fortunately for you, you haven’t been listening to the same song for those amount of time—God, you would’ve killed yourself if that was the case. The song changes without warning. It can change ten times within a day, or stay the same for ten days. You have never heard of these songs except for the popular ones, and even then, you only ever listened to snippets as they don’t suit your taste. 

So… It doesn’t make sense that you could recite the whole lyrics, does it? 

And yet, you can. 

Somehow, you already know every word, every tune, even every ad-lib in these songs and it both amazes and creeps you out. It’s as if somebody else is singing about it in their mind, and you, somehow, are mentally connected to them.

But that’s surely not the case, right?

With more days passing by, as your brain deteriorates little by little, you start to think that maybe that is the case.

Or maybe you’re just going crazy.

It’s nine in the morning and your eyes are bleary from how you involuntarily skipped sleep last night. With the loudest sigh and your half-charged MacBook sitting still in your backpack, you let your wobbly legs carry you to the nearest coffee shop. There’s a new Starbucks store opening just a couple of blocks away from your apartment and it’s perfect since you’re going to pass it every day on your way to college. 

You’re not excited though, not when you have Michael Jackson’s Man in The Mirror playing in your head for the, approximately, thirty-fifth time that day. And it’s only nine in the fucking morning.

When you enter the coffee shop, greeted by a cute Christmas tree and festive decorations spreading all over the place even when it’s still three weeks away from the holiday, you almost weep in joy when the song stops playing in your head. It does happen from time-to-time, sometimes it stops for a few hours before it starts again with the same song or an entirely different one. But in most cases, it only pauses for a few minutes which just doubles the torture whenever you’re trying to concentrate on your paperwork.

“Hi.” You display a timid smile at a female barista, slightly wincing when the song in your head starts blaring again, as expected. It’s still the same song this time—so that thirty-sixth by now, Jesus Christ—but instead of someone humming it, it’s the original version that plays. You’re having trouble focusing on her greeting when the sound of a synthesizer echoes through your ear, stridently so. “I would like a tall skinny latte with a double shot, please.”

“Would you like anything else to accompany your drink?”

Perhaps a gun to blow my head off? “No, thanks. That’d be all for me.”

“Is that for here or to go?”

You take a quick scan of your surroundings. You still have an hour before your first class starts and since the place isn’t that crowded, you figure you might as well just spend some time here. “For here.”

You tell her your name and slide down your card to complete the payment. “All right. We will call your name once your order is ready.”

“Fantastic. Thanks.” As the female barista takes an order from another customer, you drag yourself to an empty seat in the corner of the room, next to the glassy window where you can glance at passersby. You lay your head down on the table, cheek pressed against the wooden surface, lower lip jutting out in weariness. You’re drowsy and you want to think about the snow that’s probably gonna fall sometimes near Christmas’ Day and maybe the sight of a warm fireplace where you can cozy up with your imaginary boyfriend (also known as Jung Jaehyun—that one perfect boy who lives just across of your hallway), but no, unfortunately for you, you no longer have any space left in your brain since Michael Jackson is performing a damn concert and it doesn’t seem like he’s gonna stop anytime soon.

“I’m starting with the man in the mirror…” Great, now you’re singing it. “I’m asking him to change his ways…”

The music in your head abruptly stops again but before you can close your eyes to finally enjoy your silence, a familiar voice chimes in.

“It’s a great song, isn’t it?”

Shocked, you quickly lift your head to identify a male barista placing down a cup of your ordered latte on your table. You swear you recognize his voice but his face doesn’t ring a bell.

“Hi,” he greets, smiling a bit sheepishly. “I don’t usually bring orders directly to the table but I think I misheard your name so I couldn’t call you out from there.”

“That’s, umm, that’s okay…” You hide the bottom half of your face behind your scarf as you’re not used to talking to a stranger, especially one that looks overwhelmingly pretty. “What did you think my name was?”

“Umm…” He rubs the back of his nape awkwardly. “I don’t think you want to know. It was a bit… inappropriate.”

“R-right…” You glance at the cup. “It says ‘Michael.’”

He chuckles but with only a slight hint of amusement in it. “Yeah, sorry about that. I had to come up with something and it was the first thing that came to mind.”

“And it has…” Your eyes widen when you notice the words he’s written on the side of your cup. It’s not a greeting, it’s not a motivational sentence, it’s the fucking lyrics to Michael Jackson’s Man in The Mirror.

“Yeah, okay, so—” Noticing the appalled look on your face, he hurriedly tries to reason out. “I’ve had this song stuck in my head all day long—I just listened to it a minute ago while making your order—and the lyrics are just so inspirational so I decided to write that down. I hope that’s not too weird.” Then he laughs a little, a tad more genuinely this time. “But I heard you singing that song just now. What are the chances, right?”

You swallow hard. He’s been thinking about that song too? Listened to it a minute ago? What are the chances of this is happening? Is he the one whose voices I’ve been hearing in my head—

The male barista abruptly takes a step back, his tray nearly slipping out of his hold. He has a hand pressed against his ear, eyes blinking several times in disbelief. “Holy shit.”

“Excuse me?”

“You—” He splutters, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “I can’t believe it’s real.”

“What?” The way he seems like he’s looking at a ghost sends goosebumps all over your skin. “What is it?”

“Think about something.” 

“Umm—” What is he talking about?

This time he gapes, his jaw dropping low. “Holy shit, I can really hear you. Think about something else—think about me.”

“Look, I don’t know you and you’re being weird.” The sudden change of conversation baffles you but when his words sink in, you can’t stop yourself from thinking about him as he orders. He’s cute, his entire features are cute—you’ve noticed that from the first second you laid your eyes on him, but what catches your eyes the most is his lips—the way they’re shaped so beautifully, like a cupid’s bow—

“You’re thinking about my lips? Seriously?” He asks, but might as well splash cold water to your face. “If you said something about my eyes, sure, I mean, they are attractive. One might even say that God Himself took the stars from the sky and put them in my eyes—but my lips? Huh, that’s new.”

You loudly gasp when you’re finally aware of the situation, hands flying to your face to cover your gaping mouth. “You can hear my thoughts!”

“And you can hear mine too!” He points out, and as startled as you are from the previous realization, you instantly frown upon his words. 

“I don’t think so,” you reply. “I can only hear—”

“Donghyuck-ah!” Another barista comes to interrupt from the other side of the room. “We didn’t pay you to flirt, come back here!”

“I wasn’t flirting!” He shouts back, tips of his ears reddening. When he turns to you again, he has a prominent scowl on his face which makes you squirm on your feet. “We need to talk about this. My break is in an hour, do you think you can wait?”

It sounds more like an order than a request. “B-but I have a class in an hour.”

“Skip it.”

It takes all the strength in your body to be brave enough to retort back with, “Why don’t you skip your work?”

“I’m already half-done with my work, I can’t bail out now.” He rolls his eyes. Suddenly, his courteousness just vanishes without a trace. “Look, I’ve been hearing your thoughts for months now and I have a lot to complain to you about.”

You grimace. “It’s not like I can control my thoughts—”

“I know, I’m not blaming you.” He picks up the tray, his gaze softening but only slightly. “I just want to complain. You’ve been driving me crazy these past few months.”

You glance away, pouting. Wow, he surely knows how to befriend a stranger.

“I can hear you, you know.” He sighs as if talking to you is exhausting, when it should be the other way around. “Look, I’m sure you’ve been going through the same thing. Don’t you want this to stop?”

You’re not wasting any second. “Yes, please.”

“Then wait for me. We’ll talk this through.” He pivots on his heels, his tray glued to his side. When you can finally breathe properly, exhausted from the social interaction as you sink back to your seat, the barista—Donghyuck—adds, “Oh, as you wait. Can you please stop thinking about my lips? Or just how cute I am in general? It’s sweet but I gotta concentrate so I won’t write another Michael on my next order.”

You slam your forehead down the table, face aflame. “I-I’ll try.”

“Thanks.”

***

“You just can’t stop thinking about my lips, can you?” Is the first thing Donghyuck states out as soon as he’s approached your table. He runs a hand through his brown hair, which looks out-worldly fluffy that you begin to wonder what kind of hair product he’s been using. “Or my hair.”

Mortified, you mumble out, “I’m sorry,” with half of your face covered by your hands. The more I try not to think about his lips, the more I do—shit, is he hearing this too—

“Yes,” Donghyuck says, but this time with an amused smile. “Man, I didn’t know my lips were that appealing to ladies. You’re gonna make me blush.”

Well, he’s making you blush for sure. “Would it be too much to ask for you to stop listening to my thoughts?”

“Believe me, woman, I’ve tried.” He groans, taking his apron off before he sits in front of you. He loosens up his collar, unbuttoning two buttons of his white shirt—which is two more than necessary to your liking—and you have to gaze away before another thought forms inside your head about a certain part of his body. 

“Sorry if I came on too strong before. I’m Lee Donghyuck,” he introduces formally, offering you his hand. You reply with your name but you’re reluctant to shake his hand since you’re sure you’re breaking into a cold sweat, and an overly sweaty palm doesn’t really scream attractive—

“It’s literally just a handshake,” he says, stifling down a laugh. “I’m not gonna start judging you about it. You’re cute, sweaty palms or not.”

You nearly choke. “If I can’t ask you to stop listening to my thoughts, can you please be quiet about them?”

“That’s also impossible since talking is an integral part of my charm.” He leans back to his chair. “I’m pretty good with my mouth.”

That was… a poor choice of words, you think, as you stare at his lips and can’t help but wonder what can that mouth do other than talking. You take a bite of the bagel you just ordered, desperately trying to avert your attention.

“It wasn’t a poor choice of words.” He winks. “I did mean that in every way possible.”

This time, you really are choking.

“Okay, so what’s happening to us?” Donghyuck questions, after you manage to shed a tear or two during your attempt in relieving your throat. “Why have I been hearing your thoughts? I don’t even know you.”

“Same here.” You’re still going through a hard time keeping eye contact with him, but with more seconds passing by—and him pronouncing every bit of your thoughts out in the open—the knots inside your chest begin to loosen. “Ever since I turned twenty, I’ve been hearing these songs playing in my head that I’d never even heard of.”

“Never heard of?” Donghyuck snorts. “What, you never listen to Billboard’s top forty?”

You weakly shrug. “I prefer indie music better. Or instrumentals.”

“I would say that you have a soul of an old lady but the way you’ve been thinking about my lips reminds me of my sister who’s going through puberty.”

“Okay, this isn’t fair.” You shake your head, ashamed and tired of being humiliated over something you can’t fix. “Why can you hear my thoughts but I can’t hear yours?”

“Believe me, you’re much better off this way.” His face contorts in pain which makes you feel somewhat sorry if he’s not constantly being an ass about it. Hearing your insult, he notes, “Also, I’d prefer to be called with terms of endearment in the future, if that’s okay with you. Something like Babe or Darling.” The way he raises his eyebrow is just strictly illegal. “And in return, I’ll call you Sweetheart.” But before you can say anything—or run toward a running bus to put an end to this endless humiliation—he questions, “Wait, when you hear the songs I’ve been thinking in my head, does it sound like the original version of the song, or like me singing it?”

Finally, a proper conversation. “If you’re listening to the actual music, I can hear the original song as if I’m hearing it through my headphones. But when you’re just thinking about it, well, I‘ve never heard you sing, but,” you decide to tease him back—which startles you from how blatant you’re being. “From how amateur and pitchy this voice sounded in my head, I think I’ve been hearing yours.”

“Cute.” He scrunches up his nose. “Okay, let’s try again. Can you hear what song running through my head now?”

You stiffen, sitting in silence. After a few seconds pass by with only you exchanging stern stares at each other, your eyes gleam with a spark of hope. “Wait, I can’t hear you. Does this mean it stops? Because we’ve met in person?”

“Sadly no, because I was just thinking about how silly you looked when you choked over your food earlier.” He chuckles to himself and sends you another wink when you degrade him in your head. “Okay, let’s try again.”

“For real this time?”

“For real this time, Sweetheart.” He closes his eyes, holding back a smile when he catches how you flinch a little at his pet name for you. This time, you really do hear him humming inside your mind. “Don’t tell me by words,” he immediately adds, “Just think about them.”

Heaving a sigh, you close your eyes too. I’ve heard this song somewhere.

“If you’ve never heard about this song, I will literally cry and apologize to the world on your behalf.”

Be quiet, please, I’m trying to concentrate.

“Worried that you’d be thinking about my lips again?”

You almost fall from your seat. Almost. Okay, you’re singing to… You knit your eyebrows together as you provide your best effort to remember the tunes. You’re singing to Super Mario Bros theme song?

“Correct.” He taps his fingers to the table, simpering. “This is actually pretty cool. We can be, like, partners in crime or something.”

You shudder. “Please don’t tell me you’re an actual criminal.”

“If looking this handsome is a crime then I am, yes. Guilty as charged.” He makes a kissy face when you think about throwing the rest of your bagel to his head. “You look like someone who writes fan-fiction about their idols having sappy first kisses in your spare time but you’re actually pretty wild in your head, aren’t you?” He loves seeing your reactions, you know that, so you give your all in trying to act nonchalant. “Now, let’s try again. Did you bring your headphones with you?”

You check your coat’s pocket. “I got my AirPods.”

“Perfect. Put them on and play something from your phone.” As someone who’s pretty carefree, he can get serious at times. “Play as loud as you can until you feel like you’re going deaf.”

“I’ve tried that many times.” You nearly wail at the memory. “But it’s hard to drown your voice since it comes from inside my head.”

“Yeah, I know that. I’ve been hearing your thoughts too, remember? Don’t you think I would at least try something like that?” You narrow your eyes menacingly at him but he simply waves you off. “Anyway, that’s not what I’m trying to do. Put them on and you’ll see.”

He’s ordering you around. He just met you and he’s ordering you around. Socializing with people in general already zaps your energy pretty quickly, so socializing with a brat—

“I’ll grow on you, don’t worry.” He smirks and you take a mental note to really learn how to control your thoughts this time.

You follow his lead, as requested, connecting your AirPods to your phone and play something relaxing—because God knows how desperately you need it—as loudly as you can bear. Okay, go try… whatever it is that you want to try.

He smiles and shifts slightly on his seat, facing the window. His eyes glimmer under the light when he parts his lips, mouthing some words—no, singing something that you can’t hear.

Wait. I can’t hear?

Donghyuck glances at you, a grin breaking further on his lips upon hearing your thought. He gestures to you to take your AirPods away and you nod. Vacation Manor’s You promptly fades as his voice enters, and it’s weird because you’ve heard him sing in your head so many times yet it doesn’t do justice to how beautiful he sounds in real life.

It’s almost angelic, the sound he makes, which is kind of ironic for a little devil that he is. His honeyed voice is soothing, almost like the patter of rain on your window at dawn, lulling you back to sleep. You’re no expert in music but to you, he sounds impeccable that you run out of words to describe how pleasant his voice is to your ears. It’s so distinct, soulful—

Donghyuck giggles. “Thanks.”

—and annoying. “Okay, so what happened?” You try to divert the topic. “I can’t hear you when you’re singing out loud, but I can hear it when you’re thinking about a song?”

“I guess so.” He furrows his eyebrows, deep within his thoughts. “I figured it out when I couldn’t hear your thoughts whenever you spoke out loud. I think we can work from this?”

“So instead of thinking about what I have to say, I should focus more on saying what I want to say?” You shake in horror. “I don’t think I can do that.”

“What, you don’t like talking?”

“I’m…” You swallow your breath. “I’m not really good at that.”

“You’re talking to me just fine now, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, because you make it so easy.”

“Aaw,” he purrs, a lopsided smile painting his face. “Thanks, Sweetheart.”

“No.” You hold up a hand. “I mean, since you can hear my thoughts, I have no other choice but to speak. Also, you seem like you’re the type who just says whatever that comes to mind without worrying too much about my feelings—”

“Hey, now you’re just making me sound rude—”

“You are rude,” You emphasize. “But it works well with me because then I don’t have to hold myself back and pretend to be somebody else.”

“Why do you have to pretend?” He frowns. “Because you’re afraid people are gonna hate you? Judge you on your words?”

“It’s…” You look away, nibbling on your bottom lip. “I just… I’m trying to be a good person so people will like me—”

“I like you,” he says casually as if he was talking about having a cute Pomeranian as a pet, and there you are, almost fainting in your seat. “I mean, in the last forty minutes I’ve known you, I think you’re great the way you are. You don’t have to be good, you just have to be you.” He shifts closer, crossing his arms on the table, and lays his chin on them, gazing up at you with a soft smile that doesn’t match well with his previous attitude. “Don’t you think it’s great if people accept you the way you are?”

You hurriedly take a sip of your coffee, pretending to swallow even if it’s already empty. “You’re… not so bad yourself.”

“What was that?”

“Okay, well I think I should go.” There’s no way you’re gonna repeat that. Donghyuck titters, taking a hold of your wrist when you’re about to stand up from your seat.

“We still have loads to talk about.” You observe the way his fingers linger around your arm, his sun-kissed skin feels silky smooth against your own. “Why don’t we have lunch together? My treat?”

“D-don’t you have work to do?”

“I’ll make an excuse.” 

A barista with the word Jeno written on his name tag walks by and slaps Donghyuck on the back of his head as if it’s something he’s done on a daily basis—probably is. “You’re not going anywhere, asswipe, get back to work.”

When the brunette boy turns to you, he winces. “Or maybe you can give me your number so we can meet up later?”

***

A/N: I’m both nervous and excited for this as this is my first collaboration. Thank you so much, Denise, for having me on this wonderful collab!

[hercleverboy]

Congrats!!! I love your writing!! I’d like to request a blurb with #36 from the general list and #41 from fluf 💕💕💕

thank you so much! enjoy! 

I don’t really like this piece too much, so please let me know what you think! 

wc ↠ 1.7k

General #36 ↠ “Do you trust me?” “No.”

Fluff #41 ↠ “You say you hate him but your red face is telling me otherwise.”

Spencer Reid had hated her from the moment he met her.

Y/N was absolutely sure of it. When they met for the first time when she joined the BAU, he seemed polite enough. Though he just never let her in the same way he let in the other team members. She understood at first, Spencer had known the rest of the team for years at that point. She even found herself incredibly attracted to the young genius, developing somewhat of a crush on him. His reputation certainly proceeded him, particularly when it came to his issues with germs, so she kept to herself. She understood it would take him time to get used to her, but where the rest of the team warmed to Y/N and accepted her as a part of their family; Spencer never did. 

During paperwork days when Y/N would get up to make coffee in the corner of the bullpen, Spencer would already be in the kitchenette, stirring his sugar in with intent. She’d always offer him a polite smile and some light conversation. However, it seemed that as soon as she started to speak, Spencer would pick up his coffee and head back to his desk. She let that go, thinking perhaps she was getting too much in his personal space, though it hung around in the back of her mind for weeks afterwards. 

 After cases when they’d get on the jet to go back home, she would take a seat opposite him, offer him a kind smile and then pull out a book to read, wholly intent on minding her own business. But Spencer, without even looking up at her, would simply get up and move to an empty seat at the other end of the jet.

Y/N exchanged a look with JJ, who had just shrugged in response. She couldn’t understand Spencer’s dislike for the woman who’d been nothing but kind, and who the team were all already incredibly fond of. She had good initiative, was brilliant in the field and had a capability to pick up on patterns earlier than the rest of them, sometimes even before the resident genius himself. The team suspected that Spencer’s supposed hatred for her was actually his poor attempt at disguising the fact that he was madly in love with her, but he never confirmed nor denied it. 

Then somehow, as if she didn’t already think Spencer hated her enough, it got worse. Any time she made contributions to their group conversations, Spencer would cut her off. It was belittling, honestly. It made her second guess her intelligence whenever she’d pose a theory. Every time, without fail, Spencer would pipe up and say, ‘You’re wrong. It’s actually more plausible that—‘ 

One day, they were sat around the roundtable, having finished debriefing after a long case. The team exchanged murmurs of plans to head down to the bar, with Garcia smiling enthusiastically and insisting that the first round was on her. Y/N had felt pretty awful for the majority of the case, and to top it off she was sure she was coming down with a cold too. 

“How about you, Y/L/N? You coming?” Morgan piped up, his usual smirk on his lips. 

She forced a smile, scoffing. “No, I think I’m just gonna head home, but thank you.” 

Morgan shook his head, determined. “Come on. Even Reid’s coming!” 

Y/N looked over at Spencer then, who busied himself with packing away items in his satchel, although she didn’t miss the scowl that seemed to plant itself on his face. She looked back to Morgan. “Sorry Morgan, I’m just not feeling it.” 

Morgan sighed, but still tried one last time, raising his eyebrows suggestively.  “You sure? It’ll be fun, maybe you and Reid will finally start getting along after a few drinks.” 

“Y/N bit her lip, shaking her head. “I’m sure there’s at least a hundred other people that Reid would rather spend the evening with.”

At that comment, Spencer threw his satchel strap over his shoulder and left the room in a hurry, a look on his face that seemingly resembled hurt. 

Y/N swatted Morgan’s shoulder playfully. “Look what you’ve done now! You know how much Reid hates me.” She whined. 

Morgan chuckled. “Please, Pretty Boy doesn’t hate you.” 

“Uh-huh, sure.” 

“It’s true! Don’t tell anyone I told you, but the team has an ongoing bet on when you two will finally admit your feelings for one another.” He leaned in closer to her. “And I’ve got $20 riding on it being in the summer, if you could help a guy out?” 

Y/N groaned at that. “Well be prepared to lose your money, it’s never going to happen. Spencer Reid hates me, and do you know what? I hate him too.” She said defiantly, although it was all too obvious that she was lying through her teeth. 

Morgan smiled, holding his hands up in surrender. “You say you hate him, but your red face is telling me otherwise.” 

Y/N just waved him off, ignoring how he chuckled at how flustered she’d gotten, and that was that. 

Reid’s quite frankly petty behaviour was really winding down on Y/N mentally, and although Hotch often told him off for his snarky comments or gave him the third degree for constantly trying to one-up her, Spencer persisted.

They’d been working on a new case for a week, and Garcia had just sent the team the location of where the unsub was holding his fourth victim hostage. Hopping out of the SUV’s, the team regrouped in front of the house as Hotch ran over the plan with them. 

“JJ, Morgan and Rossi, you’re with me. Y/L/N and Reid will take the back. We take the unsub in alive if possible, understand?” He instructed, everyone nodding as they reached for their guns. 

“Can’t you switch Morgan and Y/L/N over?” Spencer began to whine but was quickly shut down by Hotch shooting him a warning look. He scoffed, rolling his eyes in defeat. “Great.”

After entering through the back of the house, the two began checking each room they passed by. As they rounded a corner, stalking towards a closed door, Spencer moved so he was in front of Y/N, in what she noticed was an almost protective manner. He leaned closer to the door, listening intently for any sign that the unsub was inside. 

“Is he in there?” She whispered, and Spencer looked back at her, nodding. 

“I think so.” 

Y/N closed her eyes for a moment in thought, running over the important details of the profile in her head. “Do you trust me?” 

Spencer scoffed quietly. “No.”

“Well, you’re not going to have a choice.” She mumbled, and before Spencer realised what was happening, Y/N had burst open the door, her gun drawn. 

*

Y/N was stood in the local police station’s conference room, collecting together files and taking down crime scene photos from the evidence board. The case had ended well. Based off of the profile, Y/N had decided that the best course of action was to confront the unsub head on- and it worked, too. Hotch had already told her that she’d done well that day, and that made her heart swell with pride. But Spencer? He hadn’t said anything on the ride back to the police station, busying himself with other things as they prepared to head back home. 

Y/N sighed at the thought, looking up from the evidence board just as Spencer entered the room. He immediately turned around, heading back out the door when she called out for him. 

“Reid!” 

He stopped, turning back around. “What, Y/L/N?” 

“What is your problem with me?” She asked, exasperated. She was so tired of just accepting his mistreatment, and she refused to do it any longer. 

“I don’t have time for this.” He shook his head, turning to leave again. 

“Spencer Reid! You’ve made my life hell since I first joined the Bureau and god help me, you are going to tell me what your problem is!”

“My problem?” He countered, his jaw clenched. “My problem is you! Putting yourself in danger like that without a second thought for the consequences.” 

“The consequences? It turned out fine! My plan worked!” She bit back, voice rising. 

“It was stupid and reckless, you know better than that.” He spat, making Y/N scoff. 

“Why do you care?” She shouted frustratedly. “You can barely stand to be in the same room as me, and for the life of me Spencer I cannot figure out what it is that I did to make you hate me so much!”

Spencer’s defensive stance dropped, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find appropriate words. “Y/N, I know you think I do, but I don’t hate you.” 

She gave a humourless chuckle. “Yeah, well you could’ve fooled me.” She sighed, hands running over her face as she attempted to calm herself down. “I don’t understand why me putting myself in danger bothers you so much-”

“Maybe because I love you!”

The silence that fell between them only lasted a handful of seconds. Spencer, prompted by the look of shock on Y/N’s face, scrambled to explain himself. 

“I don’t hate you. I-I don’t really think I could if I tried.” He reiterated, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck, a nervous habit of his. “I’ve loved you since the day I first met you.”

She swallowed, her mouth suddenly so dry. “I don’t understand-“

“I’m so sorry, I know how poorly I’ve treated you. The only explanation I can offer is that I was so sure you wouldn’t feel the same that I thought it would be better to push you away than face rejection.” He whispered, moving closer to her, shame in his tone. 

“You love me?” She murmured in disbelief. The words barely left her lips, so faint and shaky that Spencer nearly hadn’t heard her. 

He laughed quietly, as though he was laughing at the absurdity of the situation. “Yes, yes I do. I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.” 

He’d moved to stand before her, the two of them looking at one another in absolute awe that they both felt the same way. Spencer’s eyes trailed down to her lips, moving back up to meet her eyes. 

Y/N didn’t know how to respond, looking up at him incredulously. “Spencer..”

He bit down his lip, the words leaving his lips in a whisper. “Would it- would it be alright if I kissed you?” 

She was nodding before she’d even processed his words, and when his lips met hers- it was euphoric. Like they were simply meant to be. 

Perhaps Spencer Reid wasn’t that bad after all.

[sunpopp]

Warm to The Touch | {CCH}

→ Summary; it's not often that Chanhee gets sick, but when he does, he's a very big crybaby about it. That, or he really is in as much pain as he says he is—regardless that leaves you to take care of him, and funnily enough, it has its perks.

• WC/genre: 2K of smut + fluff

• Includes/cw: Chanhee being sick and reader taking care of him, no kissies on lips 😔, sub!Chanhee, gn!reader, fingering (m receiving), dick neglection (?), handjobs, brief praise, aftercare

Riding the bus wasn't your favorite thing to do, but it was soothing if you were in the right mood.

Sadly, you weren't. Mostly due to the fact that Chanhee was quite literally blowing up your phone with texts asking how much longer it'd take you to be off the train and on your way with his precious medicine, making you sigh and roll your eyes before shooting him a reply that you'd be there soon, but knowing nothing would calm him down until you were in front of him to prove it.

You can't help but smile.

Chanhee didn't complain much about anything, besides maybe you not helping him with washing the dishes or set the table while he made dinner, but everything else was, at most, a dirty look that softened relatively quickly. Sickness, though, was a whole other ballgame.

He would rant and rave about the tiniest of phantom pains, practically on the male equivalent of his period with the way his mood would get snappy and sour at the slightest inconveniences.

But maybe he really did just have a shit pain tolerance like he'd often hint at. Though it didn't stop you from still being baffled when he'd get a bad cramp in the middle of the night and whine about it until he'd fall asleep again.

Coming back to reality as you glance up to the bus's nearing destination, you stretch lazily and begin to stand, muscles aching from walking all day and back cracking loud enough for you to wonder if other people heard it. The bus slows to a stop before finally lurching against the sidewalk, and you take your leave through the opening doors with an appreciative thanks to the driver.

Almost immediately after you hop down from the steps, a layering of chilly wind washes harshly against your front and the familiar smell of petrichor into your nose, relentless rain droplets against your coat as you begin in a jog in the direction of your apartment. Chanhee must be freezing right now, you think, concern growing even heavier at the visible breaths of air you let out. If he's already got the sniffles, a sore throat, and headaches, he's probably getting worse considering you'd forgotten to turn the heater on before you left.

Stupid mistake.

It takes maybe a couple more minutes, less than it'd take if you were walking like normal, before you're finally at your door, punching in the code for the lock before shouldering it open and kicking off your shoes on the shoe rack. It's cold inside, you can tell by the way your cheeks still feel numb.

"Chanhee! I got your medicine!" Your words echo throughout the hall, spreading out when you keep calling his name as you move farther in; past the open kitchen and to the bedroom door opposite the bathroom.

When you come into the room, Chanhee is still in the bed where he was when you left, but this time, he's sat up, looking at you with hooded eyes and a thin sheen of sweat covering his face. He frowns, "It's about time. While I was here suffering, you were out with your friends. Unbelievable..," he pouts and shakes his head.

With a chuckle and now eased posture, you sit in front of him and set the bag of medicine beside you to check his temperature. He's extremely hot.

"Yeah, well, staying around you while you're sick is enough to drive me crazy so you can't really pin the blame on me for needing to leave. Plus, it's not like you tried to stop me, did you?" You smile at him, standing back up to go run him a lukewarm bath.

"I was asleep!"

"Your problem, not mine!"

___

"Alright, up you go."

"Ah, but my whole body hurts..."

"Too bad, you're sweating a bunch and you haven't done anything to clean yourself yet."

Another tug of Chanhee's hands, and he's stumbling into your arms with a raspy groan at the jerky movement. You pat his back, pecking his damp forehead, then drag him to the bathroom.

"Can you undress yourself or do you need my help with everything?" You half-joke.

"Don't be rude, it's actually hard for me to do a lot of things," Chanhee utters bitterly, but he does manage to pull his shirt over his head, albeit with your help, as well as his pants and boxers before stepping into the water.

"Or maybe you're just fragile as hell and the smallest things have you bedridden for a week."

"Oh my god I'm gonna-"

"Hush, princess, you won't do anything," you find yourself laughing as you lower yourself to your knees beside the tub, folding your arms on the side before resting your cheek atop them, "Just relax, okay? I know you're too tired to argue right now, so let yourself calm down for a couple."

He thankfully doesn't protest, and takes your advice for once; letting himself fall against the back of the bathtub and close his eyes, the sigh through his nose an indication that he's allowing himself to enjoy the water. He looks so peaceful like this. Doll-like eyelashes fluttering against smooth, heated cheeks, and head slowly lolling to face you.

You feel yourself reach out. You know it's happening, but you don't stop it when you run a hand through Chanhee's bangs, then swipe a thumb past his eyelid to trail to his nose, then lips.

He opens his eyes, but doesn't say anything, even if he probably finds it strange. He lets you touch him.

"You're very pretty," you mumble whilst pouring water onto his head using the wash bucket on the back surface of the bathtub. Drops trickle down into mini patterns on his face, and he drags a hand over it to clear them away.

"Even while sick?" He raises his eyebrows, pleasantly surprised at your answer.

You comb the water into his hair to wet it as you nod, "Even while sick."

Chanhee smiles, "So, how was your day out?"

"It was nice. Found a perfect place where I'd love to take you, actually."

"Oh? Where?"

"The bone zone-"

"Oh my god, you're so annoying!"

You erupt into a fit of laughter as Chanhee swats a hand at you, getting some of your shirt and arm wet where you shield yourself from his little attack. You pinch his cheek, flashing a toothy grin, "Oh, come on! That was a good one and you know it. Smooth as ever if I do say so myself."

"Yeah, and you're the only one saying so," He pouts, pulling away from your pinchy fingers and trying his best to hide the steadily growing smirk that threatens to break his face into a smile. Stubborn as always, you see.

"You can leave now," Chanhee gives you a pointed look.

"Alright, alright. I'll be in the bedroom awaiting any further commands, your highness," You shake your head, and make a grand display of leaving the room and him to his own privacy.

Chanhee doesn't take long in the bath anyway, so you knew you wouldn't have to wait long as you fall back against the bed, shifting around until you've made yourself comfortable against the strewn navy covers. You spare a glance out the window pressed against your side; still raining, and still bathed in a silver glow from the blanketing clouds. It'd make you kind of sad, if not melancholic, but you were in a good mood from coming home, so at the most, you were calm.

Calm, even when Chanhee emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam a half hour later, only wearing a pink striped button up pajama shirt and matching bottoms, hands raised above his head whilst he dries his hair with a small towel. He comes to a stop in front of you.

"There he is," you exclaim, looking up from your phone and patting the spot next to you with a mischievous glint in your eye, "C'mere."

"I wonder why I'm hesitating," he says, and you can practically feel the the sarcasm in his words.

"Because hot people make you nervous? Duh."

"Are you insinuating that you're hot?"

That's your queue.

Leaning forward, you grab Chanhee's wrist and tug him into your chest, causing him to stumble slightly, but you catch him and pull him flush against you. A flurry of kisses to his face, excluding his lips, ensue.

Chanhee squirms around in your arms and acts like he doesn't like the affection at first, but a few more seconds of the same treatment prove true to his soft side when he goes limp and begins to giggle at the ticklish feel of your butterfly pecks.

Oh, that giggle. How you loved to hear it; sweet and beautiful like the chime of the prettiest bell in your ears.

You pull him on top of you as you relax against the crevice where the mattress meets the wall, and rest your cheek on the top of his head, humming, "You saying that I'm not hot?"

"Yes."

"Damn."

"Kidding."

"No you weren't."

"Yes I was."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"You- Hush!" Chanhee covers your mouth finally and you chuckle against his palm at his feeble attempt to silence you.

You press a kiss to it instead of bickering further, causing him to soften. Just then, you realize something as you touch down his wrist.

"Woah, has your fever not died down at all? You're even starting to sweat a little bit again, too..."

Your suspicions prove true when a closer inspection at the ruddy skin flushed from his cheeks down to his chest and heavier-than-normal breathing indicates that he's still hot, or at least overheated.

"Here," you murmur, already shifting him on his back so you can easily unclasp the buttons of his shirt, "Are you in any pain or is it still just the sore throat?"

"The headache I had earlier is starting to come back. It's getting worse, but that's about it so don't worry, I'll be fine," Chanhee tries his hand at reassurance, you can tell, but it doesn't do anything to stop you from crawling over him to scurry into the kitchen.

"I'm getting you some water, hang on!" You call out from down the hall, making quick work of filling up a decently sized glass before you return to him with some painkillers as well. He barely manages to sit up when you reach him; his face scrunching at the obvious pain that's beginning to hit him tenfold as he gratefully takes the pills and throws his head back when he tosses them in his mouth, chasing them with the cold glass of water you provided.

"Ah, it's actually really starting to hurt...," Chanhee whimpers and at the sound, you slide back into the bed to pepper his face with pecks once again. He's grateful for the comfort, if the way he gently drapes his arm over your shoulder says anything.

"Oh, my poor baby," you coo lowly, feeling the goosebumps on his back that prickle at your tone, "Is there anything I can do to make it better? Did you already take your medicine?"

"Yeah.. still hurts.."

"I can tell," you snort and trail a finger down Chanhee's sternum, looping it back up to flick at one of his nipples. He jolts, and you can't help but give a cheeky smirk, "Even your nipples have taken on somewhat of a hue. I wonder what other places are doing the same thing...," your words would hold suggestion to even the most clueless of people, spoken through lips now slicked with saliva as you roll your tongue across the tinted flesh and lower your head for a taste of his exposed breast.

"Ah!" Chanhee gasps loudly and his fingers find purchase on the back of your head, his body trembling when he arches his chest up into your face, searching for more when his mouth fails to ask you such a favor.

Teasing his nipple with a gentle nip before pulling away to kiss it instead, you caress his narrow waist, "You said it hurts, no?"

"It does...," Chanhee pants and nods as fast as his throbbing head will allow him.

"Where does it hurt most, baby? Tell me," You wet your fingers with a quick swipe of your tongue then reach under his lower half to slide your hand into his shorts, Chanhee helping you by taking one leg out, and glide down the seam of his ass to tease his rim, "Here?"

"Y-yes..!" you chuckle when he huffs and flings both arms around your head, pulling you close into him and meeting your forehead as he grinds down against your digits.

"Awe, look at you..."

And look at him indeed; Chanhee is already a mess before you. Staring at you with those big watery doe eyes of his, and silently pleading for you to continue doing things to his body that has him feeling like bursting.

You give him exactly what he wants.

Pushing your finger into him, slowly due to how tight the fit is, you press sloppy kisses to the underside of his jaw. The reaction Chanhee gives is a familiar one, with sensual lips dropped open to let out a high-pitched moan and legs trembling as he holds them open for you, fighting to not shut his eyes upon feeling you enter him.

"Good," you drawl, tilting your wrist at an angle once your index and pinkie meet the backs of Chanhee's thighs and gently curling your fingers upwards, "Just like that, baby. Is this okay? Are you okay?" Your eyes search his face for discomfort, and though you don't find any, you still your movements.

He nods and nuzzles against the top of your head with his cheek, "Mm-hm. Keep going, please."

You start back up at his polite request, as much as you love hearing him ask for more of something, and begin to drag the pads of your fingers back and fourth alongside his walls until you feel the telltale firmness of his prostate, then start on massaging it.

"Ah!" He emits a short, melodical whine at the burst of sensation now seething within him. It drives him one step from crazy as he scrunches his face and unconsciously slaps at your shoulder in a sort of mid-euphoria result.

You huff out a half-laugh, sitting back on your knees so you can get a better view of what you're doing, "Good?"

Chanhee tries to use his words, but by the way you pin him down to the bed with a palm flat against his collarbone before speeding up your hand, he can only manage a broken sob. It's followed by another of the same needy type, but this time, it's louder and causes your stomach to all but flip at the sound. Chanhee throws his head back, thrashing this way and that to somewhat get away from the overwhelming feeling, but also pushing down against it at the same time; all the while your hand keeps him in place.

"I'll take that as a yes," you jest, mostly to yourself because Chanhee sure isn't listening, then bend down slightly to finally turn your focus to his weeping cock. It's full-blooded from being hard for so long, angry red at the tip and jumping every once in a while, especially when you open your mouth to lick a strip from the base to the head.

"P-please I can't! You're gonna make me cum!" Chanhee rushes to sit up, but you push him back down as soon as he tries. He looks absolutely horrified at being so close already.

"And what's the problem with that?"

"I-I just- I don't want to disappoint you."

"Oh, baby," You take your hand from his chest in favor of jerking him off, which he all but chokes at, "It doesn't disappoint me at all. I find it very hot, actually."

"Plea-ease..! Oh!" Chanhee wails one final time before he lets go all over your hand.

It covers your knuckles, dripping white down the side of your thumb as you keep stroking him to help him ride it out. The orgasm must've hit him hard, you think when you look up to see Chanhee shuddering in time with the aftershocks that zap his body every few seconds, eyes closed and skin dewy with a sheen of perspiration.

"Hey, come back to me. You alright? Does your head still hurt?"

He takes a moment to open his eyes, but when they roll open and find your face, he does something that catches you off-guard. He latches himself onto your front, straddling your lap, and rests his head over your shoulder with a sigh.

"Chanhee, hang on a bit, my hand's still dirty and I need to clean you up-"

"In a second. I'm tired."

"You still haven't answered my question."

"Mm, I don't feel like talking right now."

"... You are such a handful."

@vanillaknj @stealerhwa1

[jademakean]

𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

Timothée Chalamet x Reader

𝑷𝒂𝒖𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔.

｡･:*:･ﾟ

  Drizzles of water began coating your body as you rushed to your best friend's porch, hurriedly knocking on the wooden door.

The extra holiday break from school allowed you to spend more time with Pauline, meaning: chaotic sleepovers

“Hello?”

You looked up meeting a pair of green eyes you hadn't seen in a long while. “Timothée?”

Once the slender figure came to the realization of who was waiting at his front step, his mouth went agape mirroring yours.

You both had been close since you were little. You became friends with Pauline in middle school and met Timothée through her. From then on you were a trio and would do everything together, but that all changed.

Him, being three years older than you meant that he'd go to college first and in the end, there would simply not be any time for you both to be together. You did try to hang out once every two weeks but his college was way too far and he needed to spend his time focussing on his studies. It ended in a bad note, with many hurtful words shared.

Before you knew it, Timothée had you in bone-crushing embrace  “I haven't seen you in months, more than a year maybe! God, I missed you.”

“Why didn't you tell me you came back?” you couldn't hide the slight disappointment of him not thinking about letting you know. “I wanted to but I switched phone numbers and my sister wanted me to surprise you instead. I just didn't know I was going to see you this soon.”

Though you both shared your relief in seeing each, there was some strange tension in the air.

“I gotta visit my aunt right now but we should celebrate tomorrow or something.” He suggested, breaking the silence.

“Yeah totally. I'm sleeping over anyways so we'll probably see each other after dinner. Just be careful, the weather seems to be getting worse.”

“Oh yeah of course. If you need some clothes you can get some from my room, they're in a box on my bed. I know that Pauline's clothes are too small for any human being to wear.”

You giggled at his over-exaggeration nodding “Thanks. Stay safe.”

Once the door shut you felt your mood change. It's not like you weren't happy to see him, you were, but not being able to have the same connection you once had made your heartache.

“DJ Paulina in the house mother fuckers!”

You jumped at your best friend's sudden outburst but laughed nevertheless.

“Holy shit, you're wetter than the pacific ocean!”

You roller your eyes “Really? Damn, I wonder why. It's alright though, Timothée allowed me to borrow one of his shirts.”

“Wait you already saw Timothée?”

“Yeah, he just left.”

Paulina grimaced slightly knowing how hard it might've been for two introverts to reunite after a long period of time, let alone after they had a fight last time they were together. She quickly changed the subject not wanting to upset you.

That didn't mean she wouldn't plan on rebuilding your bond.

۵

The snaps of thunder kept you awake and the heavy drops of rain overtook your mind.

As the time pasted you began wondering what would happen if there was a monster under your bed, if a ghost yanked you by your leg, or if the shadow of the hanging coat was actually a person.

Full-on scaring yourself.

And Pauline's sleep talking was not helping the situation.

Both of you spent the day baking, eating and watching movies. Though it's not how most teenagers take up the opportunity of an empty house, it was more than enough for you two.

What was irritating you at this precise moment was the fact that you were exhausted during the day and still are, except you, can't bring yourself to actually fall asleep.

Creaking sounds were heard throughout the room as your feet made contact with the wooden floor.

You grumbled making your way to the kitchen for a cup of fresh cold water.

The bright electronic clock on the stove displayed the time. 2:23 A.M.

You were so dazed and distracted by the clock that before you could fill your glass with water, the cup fell on the counter.

You felt your heart stop the second the loud sound emitted throughout the quiet space, fearing you'd break your best friend's parent's glass. But once you realized that everything was still stable, you proceeded to finish your plan.

“What are you doing still awake?”

Your body jumped at those words. You turned to see Timothée with hooded eyes and slumped figure, clearly more than half asleep.

“Sorry, I'm a light sleeper and the thunder was keeping me awake.”

“Do you want to sleep with me?”

He smiled softly with a droopy gaze

Not gonna lie, initially some inappropriate thoughts crossed your mind, but vanished once you remembered how every time you had trouble falling asleep, you'd get in his bed and he'd make conversation until you fell asleep.

“Sure.”

Timothée was probably too out of it to understand why it had taken you so look to answer, which you were grateful for.

He lazily intertwined your fingers and led you to his room.

It looked the same as before, maybe some items we're missing so he'd be able to decorate his new apartment, but other than that, still the same.

You hesitantly laid down turning your body away from the curly-headed boy. You felt yourself heating up as last time you shared a bed you were a quite innocent 15-year-old, and to be fair you've always seen him as a bother figure.

But two years have passed and he was now 20, it felt like being with a stranger even though he wasn't.

“You alright?”

He mumbled quietly

“Can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.” You chewed your lip anxiously. You've never been good at confronting people.

“Is there a reason why you got mad at me when you left. All I remember was you telling me how we couldn't be friends because of all the work you had and how you couldn't handle too many things at the same time. But in the end, you suddenly got mad at me and it ended in a huge fight.”

You could tell that Timothée was now fully awake, definitely not expecting you to mention the topic at this time of night.

“Well, in all honestly I knew you wouldn't want to give up on our friendship. I've always seen you as a loyal strong friend and I didn't want to disappoint you by continuously bailing out on our plans.”

Thought his solution was a stupid one, you understood what he meant. You would most definitely get let down many times and eventually get mad at him, even if it wasn't fully his fault.

“I understand. Just-- Just don't do that again. I'd rather have a relationship with you even if we rarely saw each other, instead of not seeing you at all. I miss being with you.”

Timothée's heavy arm hugged you closer to him. So close you could feel his gentle heartbeat against your back.

“I'm not as much of a mess I was back in the first year of college. I have more spare time, even if college is too far we can face time and meet once a month.”

It was nice to witness his change in attitude regarding the situation, he's now more open-minded and optimistic.

“Is that why you seemed so tense when you saw me today?”

You suddenly felt yourself redden from slight embarrassment “I mean yeah. I kinda overreact a lot, but you know that. I didn't even recognize you, you've changed and I didn't know how to feel.”

You felt chest shake from a deep chuckle as you played with his fingers “Is that a good thing?”

He was making you flustered and he knew it.

“I mean, yeah. You look mature for a 20-year-old. When you were 18 you still had your baby face- it's not a bad thing at all, but now you, um, okay I'm just going to stop talking.”

Once again, Timothée's body shook slightly from his laughter which eventually died down.

There was silence once again, the downpour was hitting the window aggressively but managed to make you feel calm. The heat that radiated from the man's body was wrapping you in a warm blanket, his cold breath tickling your neck.

“How do you see me?

The silence was halted by your simple question “What do you mean?” his raspy voice asked, not understanding the question very well.

“Before you said that you saw me as a loyal friend. How do you see me now?”

Timothée turned your body to face him “Well, you've changed as well. You don't look like a little kid anymore.”

You hummed in response staring into his eyes. The moonlight was shining through the window behind Timothée, illuminating his hair, making it look as though he was wearing a halo around his head.

“Has anything interesting happened while I was gone? House renovations, dead grandma, boyfriends..?”

You had to cover your mouth from bursting out laughing “How the hell do you go from dead grandma to boyfriends?”

The boy shrugged his shoulders waiting for an answer “I had a boyfriend for a little while but it didn't work out.”

Timothée nodded for you to keep going

“He treated me differently when we were around his friends, kinda like he didn't want me. We would get into a lot of arguments and I just wasn't happy. So I ended it.”

He took your hand caressing it carefully with his thumb. You knew he was trying to make you feel better though you weren't actually sad about the breakup. You decided not to say anything against it since his action-filled your heart with butterflies.

“He's an asshole for doing that.”

“Yeah well, most of them are.”

There was a small pause in the air before Timothée spoke up again

“I wouldn't do that to you.”

You were taken aback from his sudden confession. You expected him to joke around about some dumb stereotypes.

“If you were my boyfriend, or just in general?” you asked genuinely curious to which he answered:

“Both.”

You being the anxious human being you are, decided to play it off as a joke. Like always.

“Yeah right, you would never date me, you might as well be one of those extra frat boys that-”

“Why would you assume I wouldn't date you.”

You were becoming more and more agitated, not fully grasping the meaning of his words, and why he was now saying it.

“I've always adored you. The reason why I never said anything is because I'm three years older than you and didn't want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Why are you saying this now?” You shuttered out as he moved closer to your body.

“I didn't realize how much I loved you until we separated. Now I'm realizing how much time I wasted.”

Timothée began breathing heavily, his eyes focusing on the different features your face held.

“Would you date me now?”

He nodded, not trusting his voice to speak. “Even if we wouldn't see each other often?”

He nodded once again, this time speaking “I haven't seen you in two years and I still have feelings for you, they won't go away even if I tried.”

Timothée let his fingers gently brush against your lips studying them thoroughly making your mind hazy.

You were so focussed on each other that the background noise was now muffled.

Your mouths were agape wanting one thing and one thing only.

“Can I kiss you?”

He whispered breathlessly. If he wasn't studying you so closely he would have missed your little nod.

But he didn't miss it.

The second the small gesture was caught, was the second his lips made contact with yours.

The kiss was heated and desperate, your eyebrows furrowed hopelessly from the connection. Tongues soon intertwining as Timothée held himself on top of you for better control of the situation. Not giving you room to escape.

You sighed through your nose not being able to break from the kiss, not wanting to break from the kiss.

His front pressed flush against yours, allowing his hands to travel all over your body with no hesitation.

You mumbled Timothée's name against his lips before you broke apart. “Did I go too far?”

You smiled at his worried state “No, I loved every second of it.”

He copied your smile resting his forehead on yours “Sorry, I could help myself.”

He laid on his back before you cuddled to his side, leg wrapped with his and head resting on his shoulder.

Timothée observed your crimson cheeks and swollen lips. He wanted to tease you about it but he knew damn well that he looked the exact same.

Sleep eventually took over you. The soothing sound of the storm was the last thing you heard, and the motion of Timothée's chest calmly rising and falling was the last thing you felt.

[brutal-nemesis]

Arthropod Day 2021: 🦀Time For Crab 🦀

Malacostraca Moment 😳🦀

So fun story I wanted this to be on a Saturday because SIDEWAYS SATURDAY but when I was deciding on the date I looked at the calendar for July without realizing it. Happy Sideways Stuesday I guess? 

Castys Masterlist

Ingredients: drowning mention, animal attack (kinda chill tho it’s not really violent), dehydration, autocannibalism mention, parasitic insects, partial nudity, heckin surgery (but it’s CONSENSUAL (⊙ˍ⊙) who am I), suicide for convenience (immortal)

“This looks like a lovely spot for a vacation; thank you guys so much for finding it for me.” The small dingy had just landed on a sandy beach enclosed by dark rocks on either side, a lush forest leading deeper into the island. Casyts’s captor glared at him before harshly tugging the rope tied to his wrists, trying to get him to stand and step onto the beach with her.

“Shut your trap, Ragnarok, or I might change my mind about gagging you. Now get up or I’ll have my men drag you.” 

Castys sighed and rolled his eyes, getting up and following her so his rope burn didn’t get any worse. “Aye aye, Yvonne.” 

“That’s Captain Veldna to you,” she growled, jerking him forward. He stumbled a bit, but he was able to catch himself before he got sand up his nose. He debated trying to yank the rope out of her hands and running away or stealing the boat, but her very strong men were right behind him and that would probably just end in him having extra bruises. So he just followed her like a stupid little goat as she led him towards the rocks, hoping she wouldn’t leave him tied up so he could at least enjoy his time being stranded. But no, this was about sending a message to his crew or making him suffer or something. He didn’t really remember, he’d been dazed as hell when he’d initially gotten captured during a fight between their two ships. Blood loss was a bitch sometimes.

They forced him to sit with his back against a large rock, yanking his bound hands above his head and worming a large nail through the knotted rope before hammering it into the rock. “Not gonna lie, this seems a little extra. I’m not going to go anywhere, so, like, just let me-” Yvonne slapped him harshly across the face.

“You’re not here to have fun, you annoying little parrot.” She looked over at her men, who had just finished tying his ankles together and nailing them down in a similar fashion to his wrists. “If you lot are done, let’s leave.” She turned back to Castys, a wicked grin on her face. “I wonder how many times you’ll die before your crew finds you?”

“My money’s on eight. Do you want me to keep track and tell you next time we see each other? If only I could write in a diary what horrors I suffer sitting on this warm rock that you tied me to during high tide so I won’t even drown later. Now that-agh!” Yvonne stabbed him in the stomach, and Castys bit back a scream as she twisted her blade. 

“The sound of your silence is something I could get used to.”

“Well, the real question is, is silence actually a sound-” Castys’s very valid observation was cut off by the bitch yanking out her sword and promptly kicking him in the stomach. He couldn’t help but cry out, doubling over as far as he could. Yeah, yeah he should probably just shut the fuck up and let them get on their merry way before he got more unnecessary injuries. 

“Enjoy your vacation, Ragnarok,” Yvonne spat. As one last gesture of maturity, she kicked sand at him before walking off, and some of it definitely got in his stab hole, so that was nice. He watched them row away, sighing. Now it was just boredom city, but hey, at least he had a nice beach view. The sun was a few hours away from setting, not that it mattered that much since his skin was dark enough that he probably wasn’t going to get sunburned. 

Being tied to a rock on the beach was...just about as boring as he expected. His arms got all tingly after a while from being stuck above his head, so he couldn’t even properly relax, and a man could only watch little waves roll for so long. He had a nice view of the setting sun, and hey, that means the light of dawn wouldn’t be shining in his face. While the sun was still a little ways above the horizon, he heard an odd rustling noise over in the vegetation, different from the background sounds he had gotten used to. He looked over, hoping it was a friendly man with a knife.

It was not a friendly man with a knife. But it wasn’t something bad, either. “Oh shit hello crabs!” Castys watched as they scuttled out of the treeline onto the beach, glad to have something fun to watch. One of them was slowly making its way towards him, and Castys wondered if he would be able to convince it to snip his bindings. “Hey there mister crab man, come on down, and please for the love of god untie me.” Yes, yes he was talking to a crab, because why not go full send on the insanity right away? It would be so much more fun, and it’s not like anyone else was here to judge him. “Yeah crab get in my zone-wow you’re kinda big.” He’d thought the crab was closer to him, but nope, it had been farther away but giant. Not like giant giant but not, like, normal crab size. It was almost as big as his torso maybe, but he was never great at estimating the relative sizes of things. 

“You’re large but you’re a gentleman, ain’t ya? I don’t know why, but you just seem like a polite fellow.” The crab stopped not too far from Castys and just looked at him blankly. Or maybe it was making a face at him, but he couldn’t read crab body language. Could anyone read crab body language? Crabs, he would hope. “Could you bring me some tea, good sir? Or just...water. Water that’s not salty. I don’t actually like tea it literally tastes like nothing but you know what I would drink it now because I am thirsty.” There was a moment of silence. “Not like thirsty in the weird way some people are. I have no idea what that’s about. But like, I want water. Or...oh my god, Mr. Crab, bring me a coconut!” Castys closed his eyes and leaned his head back. “Yeah… that would be nice. Food and water and it’s prepackaged and I don’t know how I would eat it because my hands are tied but I’ll figure it out.”

A sudden sharp pinch against his wound jolted Castys out of his daydream. He looked down in horror to see that the crab was holding something in its claws. Something pinkish-red that was dripping blood down onto the sand. The bastard. The crab brought the piece of his flesh to its mouth and just ate it while staring right at Castys. “That,” he blinked in surprise a few times, “was incredibly rude.” The crab stayed still, watching him as it did its weird mouth movements that were maybe chewing. “You are absolutely not a gentleman. I rescind everything. You little garbage boy. Rapscallion. I bet you never get invited to the crab raves.”

And the crab. Had the audacity. To reach out its stupid pincher. And do it again. “Little bitch!” Castys yelled, squirming against the ropes in an attempt to scare the thing off. Shockingly, it did not work, because wounded, dying prey squirmed all the time, and...that’s pretty much what Castys was in this scenario, wasn’t he? He was just stuck sitting here while that stupid crab ripped off little pieces of him with its stupid crab pincher and put them in its stupid crab mouth. If he was lucky, this would make him bleed out and die faster and then he wouldn’t have an open wound anymore, which would be a bonus. Though, it had sand in it, and then if it healed…

A problem for another day.

Not the next day, though, or the one after, because, hooray, he was still tied to a rock, so even though he did die a few hours later, he couldn’t do anything about the Sand In His Insides. He made up a song about it, but singing it loudly did absolutely nothing to scare away the crab, whom he had named Crabstard (Crab Bastard). Crabstard seemed to think Castys was his new best friend, coming back regularly for meals. Castys liked to imagine killing and eating Crabstard as a show of dominance, but that made him wonder...would eating Crabstard be a form of autocannibalism? Because Crabstard had eaten him...

He wasn’t sure what was worse, Crabstard and his stupid giant pinchers, or the mosquitoes. There weren’t a ton of them, but their bites were just awful, littering his arms and legs with swollen, white boils, which were unusual and also very concerning but what the fuck could he do about it. Because of course he couldn’t scratch them, and they itched so much it hurt and he just had to endure it. Just like he had to endure fucking everything. The heat of the sun, the awful tingling in his arms, the soreness of his wrists, Crabstard pinching off bits of his flesh, the maddening pain and itch of all his bug bites, the hunger and thirst, the boredom, and the...the loneliness.

No, he was fine, he was fine with just himself, it was always just him anyway. He wasn’t imagining his crew rowing to shore and untying him and tending to him in his cold, dark cabin, because he couldn’t get his hopes up, because they probably weren’t even coming for him. They were just going to leave him behind like everyone else and fuck he was wasting water like a useless idiot and he couldn’t stop or even wipe them away and he probably deserved this for everything he’d done so what did it matter?

And, great, the next day he started hallucinating a passing ship and a rowboat coming for him. Thank you, dehydrated whore brain! Let’s get our stupid little hopes up! Dang, the people on the boat kind of even looked like some of his crewmates, which was rude of his brain to make this so realistic looking.

It wasn’t until his first mate, Kaveri, was untying him that Castys realized that this was real, that they’d really...really come for him. “I’m so glad we found you, Captain.” She pulled him into a hug as soon as he was free, and he hugged her back as best he could with his sore arms. 

“I’m glad y’all did, too.” He leaned back when she let go and looked down at himself, wincing. “Well, before we get back to the ship, I am going to deliver a much needed death upon mys-“

“Captain, Captain, wait,” the ship’s medic, Sixtus, called as he ran over. He knelt beside Castys, taking his arm and examining the bug bites closely. “I knew it. These bites all over you are...they contain fly larvae. We’re going to need to dig them out before you heal yourself.”

“...what if I’ve died since I’ve gotten bitten. Like, earlier.”

“Well.” Sixtus breathed in sharply. “We will just have to wait for them to, uh, let us know where they are.” He sighed. “For now, let’s get you back to the ship and I’ll get out the ones I can. I don’t have the tools for it with me.”

“Can I kill Crabstard first?”

“Crab...stard?” Kaveri gave him a concerned look, and Sixtus felt his forehead.

“He’s a very impolite giant crab. He is my rival. I wish to vanquish him.” The other two shared a look.

“Do you know where this...this crab is?” Sixtus tried.

Castys held up a finger and opened his mouth, pausing for a second before shutting it and blinking a few times. “I. I do not. He just scuttles out of the trees to commit crimes every now and then. He has no friends.”

“Alright, in that case, no. You’re in no condition to wander around the island looking for a crab.” Sixtus held out his hand. “So, come on.”

“Fiiiine,” Castys groaned, letting the taller man help him to his feet. He was a little unsteady, but he was able to make it to the boat with Kaveri’s help. As they rowed away, he turned back to the island one last time, cupping his hands around his mouth as he yelled, “Fuck you Crabstard I hope you starve and die in a pit and the other crabs eat you!” 

Once they made it back to the ship, Sixtus ushered Castys into his office, instructing him to sit up on the examination table and take his shirt and pants off. Kaveri helped him, opting to stay in case Sixtus needed a hand. He examined Castys thoroughly, using a lightstone to get a good look at the swollen bug bites littering his body as well as the number of small wounds in his side.

“These from the, uh, crab?” Sixtus asked as he gestured to them.

“Yup. Him and his stupid pinchers.”

“Alright, I know you don’t really get infections, but I’m going to clean these out just to be safe.” He paused. “Also it just feels. Really wrong not to. It’ll bother me if I don’t.”

“Do whatever, doctor man.” Castys did his best not to let his pain show as Sixtus dabbed at his wounds with a stingy liquid. It really didn’t hurt that much, but when Kaveri placed her hand on top of his as he gripped the edge of the table, he didn’t wave her off. He’d let it be Fuss Over The Captain Day. For their sake. Because they seem to have been worried about him. 

“Alright, I’m all done with that, so if you could lay down, Captain, I’ll get started with removing those larvae. Kaveri, get him some rum and then hold him down.” She nodded, leaving and returning soon after with a small cup.

“You know, I haven’t had water in days,” Castys mused before winking at her and downing its contents. Kaveri shook her head.

“You literally emptied my waterskin while we were rowing back.”

“Oh dang, I forgot. Nevermind I’m actually not funny and am just stupid.” He scooted a bit and laid down with his hands behind his head. “Get rid of my worms.”

“They’re not-they’re not worms, Captain, they’re insects, since-” Sixtus stopped himself, folding his hands in front of his mouth. “Nevermind.” He cleared his throat. “Arms at your sides, please. Kaveri, if you would.” She nodded, holding down his shoulders as Sixtus turned Castys’s arm, locating the first larva he was going to remove. Castys breathed in sharply as the knife sliced into his arm, doing his best to keep still as Sixtus slid a pair of tweezers into the wound. The rum dulled his senses enough that it didn’t hurt as much as it could, but it certainly wasn’t painless, and he couldn’t help but gasp as Sixtus slowly pulled a small, wriggling grub out of the incision. He dropped it in a metal tray, cleaned the wound, and picked up his knife.

Then the process started all over again.

Castys didn’t bother counting how many times those tweezers probed around inside him, how many wet little plops he heard as another larva dropped into the tray. He focused on staying still, on the prickle of the rough wood table against his bare back, on the feeling of Kaveri’s hands on his shoulders, more comforting than restraining. They reminded him that he wasn’t alone in his suffering, for once. But he wasn’t supposed to need comfort, he was their immortal captain, the one who’d been through everything before and was strong enough to go through it again, the one his crew could always depend on to be strong. And here he was, teeth gritted against the pain, his forehead resting against Kaveri’s arm, fists clenched to mask their shaking, all over a few cuts and some little maggots.

“Alright,” Sixtus wiped his brow with the back of his hand, “I think that’s all of ‘em. That I can see, at least.” He looked down at Castys. “You had seventeen of those things in you, Captain.” He grimaced. “And possibly more, so please let me know if you feel anything, uh, wiggling. But for now, you’re free to...die.”

“Can’t believe I got a new world record for worm friends.” Castys grabbed the small leather pouch that usually hung around his neck from his pile of clothes, pulling it open.

“They’re not worms-”

“Thank you, Sixtus.” With that, Castys stuck his finger in the pouch and touched his death stone. He came back to life feeling infinitely better, but Kaveri and Sixtus still insisted he rest after he cleaned himself up. He grumbled, but he let Kaveri force him into his bed and bring him something to eat. Once he was finished, she collected his plate and stood awkwardly by his bedside.

“Do...do you want me to come back, Castys? Will you be alright?”

“Look, I’m honestly fine, you’re good. I’ve been through a lot worse, and I’m all healed up now so it doesn’t really matter.” 

She pursed her lips. “I suppose, but that doesn’t mean that that didn’t still take a mental toll on you, and…” she sighed. “Just...call me if you need anything, alright?”

“Will do.” She nodded, but as she started to walk away, Castys realized there was something he’d rather not leave unsaid. “Wait, Kaveri?”

“Yes?”

“Th...thank you. For, uh, finding me.”

“Of course, Castys. We’ll always be there for you.” Castys opened his mouth to reply, but he stopped himself and just smiled and nodded, his shoulders only falling once she’d left.

He wished that were true.

Castys Cult: @as-a-matter-of-whump​ @blackrosesandwhump​ @fanmanga1357-blog​​ @thehopelessopus​ @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi​ @hearse-song​ @muddy-swamp-bitch @whumpasaurus101 @yet-another-heathen​​ @galaxywhump​ @starnight-whump​ @his-unspoken-words​ @misspelledwitch

[atc74]

Eye of the Beholder

Warnings: Poor body image (?), slight angst, a little envy, a lot of fluff, and implied sexy times

Summary: Jensen is feeling less confident in himself lately and you think you know why. He has always been there for you, now you just need to show your husband he has no reason to be. 

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 1470

Written for: @breakthezone​ first quarter challenge, which was to choose one of two prompts. Mine is bolded below. 

Beta’d by: @amanda-teaches​, cause she is the best

A/N: So you know the pictures, the spread, the article in THAT magazine, featuring that beautiful soul, and that would cause any man to think less of himself, but I thought, what would go through Jensen’s head and how would I help him through it. 

Like Jensen’s Warmth? Buy it here from @scentsfromthebunker!

The cold snowy mountains were a stark contrast to the warm flatland of their home state, but Y/N was loving the quietness and solace of the northeast. Y/N pulled into the snow-covered driveway and started unloading the groceries. She planned accordingly and for weeks at a time; they didn’t have many delivery options out there. 

“Honey, I’m home! What do you say you come help me carry in and put away all this food and I make you a nice, juicy porterhouse for dinner?” Y/N called from the kitchen as she dropped the load on the counter. “Honey? Jay?” The house was mostly silent but then she heard it. The distinct smack of fists and feet hitting the heavy bag Jensen installed in the home gym. She sighed knowing this was the third day in a row Jensen had spent hours in the gym, working out until he was ready to drop. 

Y/N brought in the rest of the bags, stored the food, and changed her clothes. If she was going to join him in the gym, at least she could participate. It wasn’t like it was a hardship watching her husband in only a pair of shorts, his freckled skin dripping with sweat. 

She brought fresh water with her, setting it on the weight bench. He was breathing heavy, sweating, and red-faced. Jensen was not out of shape by any means, but he somehow had gotten it in his head that he needed to get into better shape. Maybe it was the pressure of becoming Soldier Boy, maybe it was that he was approaching his “mid-forties”, it could have been a few things, but Y/N thought she knew exactly what had prompted this new obsession. “Hey, honey.”

“Hey, babe,” he rasped, his breaths heavy with exertion, his hair soaking. “Just a few more minutes.” He landed another two punch kick combo. 

“Jay, you have got to take a break. You can’t keep going like this, hours a day, day after day,” Y/N pleaded with him. “This is enough for today.” 

“Yeah, okay. Maybe you’re right.” He stopped, hugging the bag tightly, holding on as he tried to catch his breath. 

“Go shower, I’ll get dinner started, okay?” Y/N smiled, kissing him softly. 

“You got it. I’m pretty sure I reek anyway.” 

Leafy greens and brightly colored vegetables covered the kitchen island as Y/N chopped and sliced away. The cuts of meat were sitting out to warm up before grilling, and a nice bottle of a full-bodied red was breathing on the table. Jensen emerged from the hallway leading from their bedroom about thirty minutes later, looking a little worse for the wear. He pressed a sweet kiss to her cheek, swiping a handful of peppers, too. 

“I saw that mister,” she smiled, leaning into his touch. “But I’m gonna let it slide just ‘cause you smell nice.” 

“Better than before?” 

“Oh, way better,” she laughed, turning and wrapping her arms around his neck. “Want to tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” 

“Nothing, babe. Just trying to stay in shape. I gotta get in that custom suit in a couple of weeks, and I ain’t getting any younger.” Jensen looked down, running a hand over his face, scratching at his beard. 

“That’s all, huh?”

“Yeah, just running isn’t gonna cut anymore. I have to keep up.” 

“Keep up with…?”

Jensen pretended he didn’t hear Y/N as he started helping with the salad. If he ignored the question, maybe she would let it go. It seemed to be working, for now, so he went with it, and continued to help her with dinner. 

“Jay, these look perfect!” Y/N gushed as she cut into the steak. She placed the bite in her mouth, the flavor exploding, and she moaned around it. “Oh my god, it's practically melting in my mouth!” 

“You made it easy with a superb cut of meat, babe,” Jensen shrugged, digging into his salad and grilled vegetables. 

All through dinner, Y/N noticed how he barely touched his meat or wine, but took extra helpings of the healthy stuff. She decided she would let it go, wanting to enjoy their meal, but soon enough, the dishes were cleared and leftovers stored. 

“Jay?” Y/N asked, rinsing the plate in her hand before handing it to her husband. “Can I ask you something?”

“Babe, you can ask me anything, you know that.” 

“And promise me you won’t get mad?” 

“I won’t get mad, but now I am a little suspicious,” Jensen raised one eyebrow, looking over at his wife. 

“Does your new workout regimen have anything to do with Jared’s spread in Men’s Health?” 

“No.” Jensen protested immediately. 

“Jay…” 

“Maybe,” he sighed, throwing the towel on the counter, then he turned, leaning against it. “Am I...soft?”

“Soft? I think you are the kindest, most generous, loving man I’ve ever known,” Y/N replied honestly. “I am lucky I found you and even luckier that you love me.” 

“Well, thank you for that, babe, but I was asking about my physical appearance,” Jensen hung his head, his voice getting quieter as he talked. “Do I have a ‘dad bod’?” 

“Jensen Ross Ackles, you listen to me right now. You have never looked better and you are in the best shape of your life. You just completed a 15 year run on the most successful sci-fi television show in history, you are stepping into an iconic role that you were hand-picked for, and if a ‘dad bod’ looks like this, then yes!” Y/N gestured to her husband while rambling on trying to make her point. “No, you know what? Come here, come sit down with me. Bring the wine.” 

Y/N sat down with her laptop, intent on showing her husband the proof he needed to believe her and believe in himself. Jensen sat down next to her, handing her a fresh glass, as she pulled up photo after photo on the screen. 

“Do you see what I see?”

“No, I see a skinny kid from Texas with no hair on his chest and barely-there abs,” he scoffed. 

“Okay, you still don’t have chest hair, but what else do you see?” She prompted him again. 

“A pudgy mid-section and that was before I turned 40!” 

“Do you want to know what I see?” 

“You’re biased.” 

“You’re damn right I am, but I do know that your fans, the Dean-girls, well, they’re not wrong. Did you know that according to several fan sites, you and Dean have way more fans than Jared and Sam? And are you telling me that millions of people are wrong?”

“Millions?” he asked skeptically. 

“Okay, well, maybe not millions, but a lot! But I see a man that is in better shape than he was twenty years ago. I see a skinny kid from Texas too. But I also see a man who now is in the best shape of his life and way sexier than that skinny kid.. What is it that you’re always telling me when I complain about my baby muffin top or my thunder thighs?”

“That bodies come in all shapes and sizes, and beauty isn’t defined by your body shape; it’s defined by your soul and you are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on.” 

“Okay, and I usually argue with you when you do, but that doesn’t mean you’re wrong. We are our own worst critics, you know that. But I see a healthy body and strong arms. Arms that hold me better than any others on the planet. Arms that hold our children and comfort them when they are hurt. I see a sexy mind and a stunning soul, one that was made for me.” 

“Okay, I think that is enough wine for you,” Jensen reached for the glass, but you moved it out of his reach. 

"Have I entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile for me?"

“Fine, it could have been a smile.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah, my exceptionally sexy wife made a pretty good point.” 

“Oh? Tell me more.”

“Well, she may also be the smartest person I know. She always knows just what to say when my dumbass is being, well a dumbass.” 

“Yeah, I am pretty damn smart. Because you know what else I did? I made arrangements for your visiting parents to keep the children overnight so they can swim until they pass out.”

“Wow, that is pretty smart. You know, I’ve been working out and I bet I could carry you all the way upstairs without breaking a sweat.”

“Oh, you’re on Ackles, but you are wrong about one thing.”

“What’s that?” 

“We will definitely be working up a sweat!”

The Whole Enchilada: @iwantthedean​ @dolphincliffs​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @flamencodiva​ @blacktithe7​  @amanda-teaches​ @hannahindie​  @kickingitwithkirk​  @wi-deangirl77​ @hobby27​​ @gh0stgurl​ @alleiradayne​ @idreamofplaid​ @manawhaat​ @crashdevlin​  @fangirlxwritesx67​ @winchesterprincessbride​ @waywardbeanie​ @jensengirl83​ @anathewierdo3467​  @winchest09​ @michellethetvaddict @magssteenkamp @waywardbaby  thewinchesterandreidwhore @anathewierdo

The Jensen’s Jamboree: @jerkbitchidjitassbutt​ @dean-winchesters-bacon​ @adoptdontshoppets​ @supernatural-jackles​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​ @akshi8278​ @thing-you-do-with-that-thing​ @deanwanddamons​ @rockhoochie​