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farfromstrange · 1 year

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Foreigner's God | m.m

Matt Murdock x avenger!OFC

Chapter thirty: Hayloft II

Previous part XXIV ° series masterlist ° work masterlist

Summary: Eliza wakes up trapped in the White Room and her friends get ready to rescue her.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, ANGST

a/n: I don’t know, I don’t like this. I’m terrible at writing hallway fight scenes, so I’m just going to leave it to the Daredevil writers from now on. I hope you can still somehow visualize this mess. Anyway, we are about to reach the big show-down and I’m not quite sure what to think of it. This has gotten so much bigger than I expected and I’m so incredibly thankful to all of you. Thank you for over 150 Followers!

The vibrations of the neon ceiling light caused her eyes to flutter open. She could see the world through a blur, her lungs somehow got enough air to keep her alive, but she couldn’t move. Everything below her neck was paralyzed. She felt as if someone had broken her spine and just left her there, lying on a sturdy mattress like a soft vegetable.

She smacked her dry lips. The white light hurt her eyes. She wanted to rub her face, but not even the thought of moving her fingers got them to rise higher than an inch off the bed.

As the fog in her mind cleared and she was able think much clearer, she became more conscious of where she was. She wasn’t at home in bed, the past hours (or days, she didn’t know) hadn’t been a dream and she was alive. They hadn’t killed her, they simply locked her up and left her there.

She tried again, straining all of her muscles. A grunt escaped her lips.

Eliza managed to roll over, though she overestimated the size of the mattress. She landed on the hard floor with a loud thud. This time, the ache in her ribs was more than palpable. Whatever they had injected her with was strong enough to knock even a super soldier like her off her feet.

She could barely move. Her entire body was in pain, but her muscles didn’t respond when she asked them to move. Only her nerves were on fire.

The paralysis faded agonizingly slowly. Tears welled up in her eyes from the pure exhaustion that just rolling over caused to wash over her. She doubted she could speak; her lungs barely got enough air to keep her conscious.

Taking in her surroundings, her head started to piece together the familiar elements of the room. White walls, white lighting, sterile high walls connected to a huge metal door with several locks. No mirrors, no windows, just the artificial lighting breaking down from the ceiling. Every so often, the lamps flickered, the neon inside sizzling and vibrating. The ache in her head thudded against her temples, the sound triggering another attack on her sensitive nerves.

The bed she had found herself on stood in one corner. Opposite it, a sink was set into the wall, a small drawer next to it. The desk next to the bed was tiny, and the wooden chair was seemingly uncomfortable. It had a desk lamp, which was new, but other than that, everything looked the same as the place she had left all those years ago.

They recreated the White Room down to even the smallest detail, hence the sense of familiarity.

Her heart only started beating faster. The adrenaline faded into anger and perhaps even panic. She was scared of the memories it would bring, afraid to close her eyes and have the past wash over her like a tidal wave.

Goddamnit, she thought. “I should have listened to Matt,” she uttered the thought out loud.

If she had stayed, none of this would have happened. Then again, if she had stayed it would have been him in her position. Viktor would have found her eventually, even without leaving clues. They would have tried to stop Hydra and Matt would have died because he was her weak spot. He was the one thing they could take away from her that would hurt her the most, that would take away her need to fight and allow her to surrender to the torture they concocted for her. Without him, there was no purpose in fighting, and they would have shamelessly used that to their advantage.

There was a reason she left. Even if Matt had been there, he probably wouldn’t have held her the way she wanted him to. He wouldn’t have told her everything was going to be fine because that would have been a blatant lie. And he was angry at her. She didn’t deserve to be held. She didn’t deserve his love or his kindness.

He was better off without her. He could move on and be happy with someone who could love him back. Eliza wasn’t capable of that, even though she half-expected it to happen. Love wasn’t in the cards for her, she realized that now.

“Are you done?” the voice came from the speakers in the ceiling.

She sucked in a sharp breath. “Fuck you! I thought you cared about me,” she said.

“I do, but sometimes you have to do things to the people you care about that are not very enjoyable to get your point across. And I really hope you learned your lesson, malyshka, and do not fight the inevitable, or we’re going to have a problem.”

Eliza somehow managed to sit up on her knees, using the little feeling she had in her tingling limbs to rise to her full height. She swayed a little.

“You don’t own me,” she hissed.

His laugh haunted her. The locks on the door opened on cue. She raised her fists, ready to fight the intruders. In actuality, she barely raised them, they still hung almost limp at her sides.

Her vision blurred. The room was spinning. She tried to channel what she felt into her hands, tried to conjure about the red, and do the same she had done back at her childhood home, she knew she could, but her mind wouldn’t let her. It could barely string together a viable thought.

Before she could even think about fighting the men that entered, her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she fell to the floor, out cold.

The second time she woke up, she was lucid only for a minute. Two strong arms dragged her across the white hallway. Her knees scraped over the linoleum ground. She tried to keep her eyes open, to make a sound or fight them off, but she wasn’t nearly strong enough to stand against them. Then, as they pulled her into a room at the end of the hall, she passed out again.

When she finally woke up completely lucid, she was strapped to a gurney. The situation seemed all too familiar. Her head was tied down with leather straps, her hands locked in place with the same metal cuffs Ivan had put on her when they reconciled at the warehouse, and her legs were tied with the same leather straps that held her skull in place. The cuffs were new but other than that she had been in this same situation before, only had she been younger and smaller then, and the people around her hadn’t yet known what they knew now. She had been an experiment waiting to happen, prodded and injected with foreign substances, and shocked with electrical currents to get through to her amygdala.

The straps on her head replaced the needles that they used to get deeper into her brain. She wasn’t sure how they did it, what they did and why they thought it was a good idea to experiment on her brain, but in the end, whatever they had done to get her to manipulate emotions and cause destruction via pain control, worked. It turned out exactly the way they wanted it to.

Lying there now though, she was no longer an experiment waiting to happen. She was the only child that survived the torture of the White Room, the only child that turned out alive and well, and she became Hydra’s best-kept secret. She was the strongest of them all.

Her training had been harsh but she turned into an excellent weapon, not only with her powers but with her skill to kill without being caught. They had been so proud of her. Now she was simply means to an end, the reason their operation failed, a deserter. They would no longer have mercy on their most prized possession. What they wanted was inside of her; it was no longer her they wanted, it was the stone, and they were more than willing to do whatever it took to get it out of her.

Viktor lied. He would never let her return, even if she wanted to. He would take what he wanted and then he would discard her like a used paper towel. He did that to everyone he used as means to an end. She was an object to him now, no longer his favorite child. She wasn’t sure why it hurt her, but the thought alone sent shockwaves of guilt through her tied-up body.

She regained control of most of her limbs, although her wrists started to go numb from the pressure of the shackles. The technology drained her. She felt oh-so-tired, her powers itching behind her skin but not quite ready to come out yet. She could break the metal, she had done it before, but the drugs they had injected her with were still running through her veins, turning her physical body into a big mush that wasn’t strong enough to withstand the power of the reality stone.

She couldn’t control herself, not like this, and her body knew that so it shut down and left her there.

Something sharp pierced the skin in the crook of her elbow. She felt the needle dig into the blue, bulgy vein that popped from the tied tourniquet on her bicep. The liquid from the IV bag next to her head wasn’t clear but rather a soft yellow, indicating that what they were giving her weren’t life-sustaining fluids but a thinner version of the liquid they used to render her unconscious. The drug made her body weak and her mind fuzzy. They wanted her like this. They wanted her rendered useless so they could do whatever they wanted to do to her without having to worry about her breaking free and causing mayhem.

She couldn’t act, couldn’t think, she just stared up at the ceiling, hoping a window would soon open up for her to do what she came here to do. She needed to regain her strength, fight against the drug and think of a plan to get out of the compromising position before they sucked her completely dry.

Eliza knew they planned to take her blood, as much of it as she could bear to lose without her heart failing. She felt the needle in the opposite arm, heard the rattling of the pump, and she knew that if she didn’t find a solution fast, she would end up empty.

She couldn’t demolish the operation from the inside if she was dead before she even got the chance to try. Just a little longer, she told herself. She had to hold on to finish what she started or hurting Matt the way she did would have been for nothing, and she would not be able to forgive herself for that.

Stall.

“What exactly are you planning to do with my blood?” she asked. The men around her didn’t seem to care about the fact that she was awake or lucid. They prepared their instruments, controlled by a force stronger than any of them. They were like robots, walking around on autopilot. “I suppose that’s what you’re doing,” she said, “Taking my blood to make more of me. How exactly do you plan on doing that?”

One of them leaned into his partner. “Should we gag her?” he asked.

“Oh, please do. I’m sure that’s gonna help your conscience so much. Well, if you even have one. I don’t know what he’s doing to you, but this isn’t you. He has your mind in a chokehold and he will continue to do so until you fight back. I believe he’s listening right now, making sure you don’t slip up. Isn’t that right?”

She directed her eyes to the speaker set into the wall. Her eyes narrowed, waiting. She had heard his voice back in her cell, so why wasn’t he here now? His booming laugh and the bitter tone of his voice had her break out into hives. She expected him to comment, to show himself and condescend to her like he always did, but nothing happened.

“Come on, is none of you gonna talk to me?” she said. “I’m a bit tied up here, the least you can do is be better company if you’re already plotting my murder.”

The men only laughed. They attached sensors to her skull next. Their technology had advanced from the last time she was tied to a chair like this. The sensors meant they were more than ready to fry her brain, which could only mean they feared she would break free even with the drugs poisoning her system. It made her grow more confident. She remembered the last time they shocked her. It hadn’t been pleasant, but they had put her through far worse too, so electricity was the least of her concerns. She was more worried about the toxic mixture in the IV that went straight into her blood system. She wasn’t sure how long it would stick around and if she would ever regain her strength. Hell, somewhere in her mind she even asked herself if they purposely put opioids into the liquid to make her crave more of it.

Eliza pushed against the shackles. They were tight. The entry points for the key were just a little to the left at the side of her wrist. If she found something to jam in there, she could interrupt the electrical current and break out of them. If only she could regain the connection to her powers and escape from the foggy mindset the drugs put her in. She needed to stabilize her circulation, focus on something else, and then take all the strength she had to fight. She didn’t need an infinity stone to do the work for her. If her mind wasn’t on her side, she had to physically fight her way out of there.

An almost frustrated sob escaped her lips. A tear rolled down her cheek. This was pathetic. She had to fight not to cry, but the alarming reality of the situation she had put herself in nagged at her heart. She regretted about half of the choices she made to get her into this chair. She wanted Matt back. She wanted to feel his arms around her and have him tell her that everything was going to be alright. It was no longer a want but a need. All rationality went out of the window. She was scared. Her heart beat up to her chest, the monitor next to her head going crazy with the spike, and the men shared another look. They caught onto her tears, the silent sobs and the desperation in her eyes and their first response was to laugh. They laughed as if nothing mattered to them but the mission. They were cold and emotionless. He had trained them well.

They didn’t deserve her tears.

“Hey now,” he cooed. He was no longer a voice in the ceiling. Viktor stood right next to her gurney, his cane in one hand and the other gloved one stroking along her bare arms.

When had they changed her? Her carefully picked-out outfit was gone and instead replaced with the same tank top, pants, and sneakers she used to wear as a child. Everything was white and dull. She blended into the walls as if she was nothing special, not anymore at least. No more red, only white. She was drowning in it.

His eyes reminded her of a snake. She wanted nothing more than to scratch them out of his head.

He wiped her tears away with his finger, the leather scratching against her cheek. “You’re a weapon, little one,” he said to her, “and weapons don’t weep.”

She opened her mouth to bite his finger off. He pulled away, laughing.

“Feisty. Perhaps you haven’t changed all that much.”

Eliza sucked the snot back up her nose. She refused to admit her weaknesses in front of him. She refused to let him see how scared she was of failing and it drove her crazy. And she refused to prove him right in his suspicions that she was in over her head and that he would always win, no matter how hard she tried.

“I have to say, I am impressed. I didn’t think you would have it in you to sacrifice someone else to get what you want. Not anymore, at least.”

“You don’t get to talk to me as if you know me,” she bit back.

“Oh, but I do. I’ve practically raised you,” he said and traced a strand of sweaty hair behind her ear.

She pulled at the restraints. “Fuck off!”

“You see, there has always been a monster inside of you. And you’re a fighter, have been since you were young. You’ve just been swallowing the little red demon inside of you for years and you almost forgot where you come from. Feels amazing, doesn’t it? Finally being able to control someone else’s life and death again.”

Tears started to well up again. She shook her head, sniffling. “No, I never wanted to hurt people,” she said. “I didn't want this life! You made me a monster."

“I didn't make you a monster, you were just born that way."

“No, you are the monster. You are, not me, Viktor. And when I get out of here, which I inevitably will, I will come and find you in this godforsaken place and then I will fucking kill you.”

He reached for the device next to her, the one connected to the sensors stuck to her skull. His fingers ghosted over the little, red button. His grin showed the scar on his lip and the wrinkles at the corners of his mouth. The light seemed to reflect off his white teeth. Fake white, no doubt. He was vain, he made sure he looked nothing like the age he truly was. He wanted everyone to know how superior he was. He always had been this way and it made her sick that she used to fall for it every time, thinking he loved her and that she meant more to him than a pathetic insect crawling around on the floor.

She was foolish to think anyone in her life had ever truly loved her before Matt came around, and even now she doubted he knew what he was feeling. She probably manipulated him because she always did that when she craved someone’s attention, too scared to show the same kind of affection back. Her take on love was twisted, and it wasn’t even her fault she thought that way.

What Viktor showed her wasn’t love. He played her like a fiddle. He did it because he got off on inflicting pain on others to get whatever he wanted. People gave it to him without asking and he had gotten so used to manipulating everyone around him that he never stopped to think that someone might fight back. He wasn’t her father, even though he raised her. He was the man who ruined her life. Even Anton was much more of a father to him than he had ever been.

She meant it when she said she would kill him. Removing him from the narrative would cause Hydra to crumble. Without a leader, tearing the operation apart was easy. The power came from him so she had to cut him off. It was the only way, and it would be so incredibly satisfying to watch him fail at her very hands, to watch the life drain from his eyes as her hands got drenched in his blood. She could see it in front of her eyes and it made her hungry for the power that she was sure she would feel when she finally turned the tables around on him.

Her nostrils flared when he toyed with the buttons, never once pressing down on them. “I’m going to kill you,” she said. “I’m going to kill you and then I’m going to stand by as your empire burns at my hands the way you have burned my life to the ground. I don’t love you. I didn’t want to come back to you. You disgust me.”

With the last three words gone, he laughed, and he pushed the button down completely. The shocks shot straight into the gray matter of her brain. It wasn’t the brain that hurt – it had no pain receptors – it was every nerve around it that burned with the high voltage that he shot through her body with just one simple push of his finger.

She had felt this before. The same shocks had boiled her body before. Perhaps that was why it didn’t hurt so badly this time around. She was still paralyzed and locked in place, but she stayed conscious during the whole ordeal. The world spun and her vision was on fire. Was this what Matt saw? The world was on fire, his senses burning at the same time and he just had to suffer through his version of electric shocks every living second of his life.

The shocks subsided and she slacked into the gurney. Her muscles ached. The drugs mixed with the torture weakened her body even more. She wasn’t sure how she was going to make it out of this if she even could. She wasn’t sure how to make it out of this. Her eyes rolled back. She didn’t want to live like this. She didn’t want to suffer like this ever again. She refused to let him turn her into a helpless little child again, completely at his mercy.

So she fought the shocks the second time. She clenched her fists and she screamed out, fighting against the excruciating fire she couldn’t put out. He poured even more gasoline on top of it, multiplying the voltage. She fought the unconsciousness that started to take over her mind. She didn’t want to be helpless, she wanted to fight, she wanted to make true to her promise and kill him, and if it was the last thing she did.

She breathed heavily. Time passed by in slow motion. He disappeared, followed by his goons and then it was just her and the medical personnel digging needles into her veins and taking her blood, every so often burning her alive with the electricity as if it was their favorite thing to watch. Maybe it was.

Fight back. The voltage threatened her and most specifically, it threatened whatever was inside of her, and her body took over.

This is your blood, not theirs. Don’t let them take it.

She didn’t come this far to lose.

The shackles cracked like fragile glass. The red light suggesting that it was closed turned green, the metal breaking apart at the seams. Her knuckles cracked, wrists aching at the sudden freedom of movement. The men who had been touching her flew back with a sudden force that hit them as they punched the fresh needle into her vein.

The same thing she saw happen to her mother at the lab happened right there, the red bursting out of her and blasting everyone in her vicinity against the wall. It wasn’t as strong as what hit her mother, but Eliza could still feel the power unleash from her veins and hit whoever tried to hurt her. The stone didn’t protect itself, it protected her. It was no longer just fighting for itself.

She didn’t have time to be shocked. She grabbed the scalpel on the tray next to her, cutting straight through the leather restraints on her head and then her feet. Finally free, she could tear the needles out of her skin. The blood squirted out of the IV incisions. She shouldn’t have done that, but she didn’t have the time nor was she in the state of mind to find it in herself to care.

The men that weren’t knocked out, which were surprisingly many, got back on their feet and took their fighting stances. They armed themselves with any kind of object that had fallen around the room they could find.

Eliza jabbed the scalpel into one’s shoulder. He cried out. She kicked him back against the wall. The tray hit the next one straight in the head, the surprise knocking him out cold. The adrenaline made it possible for her to fight off all five guys without seriously hurting them. They were still alive by the time she fell against the wall, exhausted and bleeding and short of at least a pint of blood already. Her head was spinning, the drugs remaining in her bloodstream. Luckily, she was no longer paralyzed and could keep herself up on her legs, though only wobbly.

She tore a piece of fabric from one of the men’s scrubs, wrapping around the hole in the crook of her arm. The wound thudded underneath, but at least the bleeding stopped. She couldn’t lose anymore or she would pass out again. And if the adrenaline happened to fade too soon, the same would happen and then all would have been for nothing.

It was her one motivation to keep going, to keep fighting to get what she wanted for the first time, finally. It was her turn to get everyone to bend down to her, not the other way around. It was finally her turn to win, she just had to try harder to get there with her whole body fighting and the stone being the only thing keeping her on her feet. She made a mental note to thank whatever God was responsible for writing her destiny because, for the first time, Eliza was proud of her abilities.

She took the scalpel out of the man’s chest and wiped the blood on her white pants. Her clothes were already stained with her blood.

The men didn’t have guns on them, but she managed to find another knife and a syringe with an unknown substance. She set it to one’s throat and without a second thought injected him with it. She stole his radio and his flannel, sliding her arms in and tying them tightly around her stomach. The last thing she wanted was for all her skin to be fully displayed.

Black dots clouded her vision. “Okay,” she muttered, bracing herself against the sterile wall. “Focus, don’t pass out now.” She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the world to stop spinning. The blood loss made her fingers tingle.

She grunted. Thankfully, she managed to stabilize herself again.

An alarm rang out. Her head shot up. The blaring seemed all too familiar. Intruder alert, it said. The neon lighting was replaced by the flickering of the red warning lights, lulling the room and the hallway beyond it in a deep crimson.

“Oh no, that’s not good.”

The alarm kept blaring, not helping with her invoking headache. The flickering lights almost gave her a heart attack. If someone had unlawfully entered the facility, she had to act even faster. Who knew what was going on out there? If she remembered the blueprint correctly, and her memories from her past in the White Room didn’t betray her, she found herself in the medical quadrant, the place where experiments took place. They had moved her from the dormitories over to the first building. She had been too passed out to notice. Subconsciously she knew though. She knew this place inside and out, even after years of trying to forget the same walls that had once caged her in. She would still remember them for years to come. It had been her home once, as twisted as it sounded. She could navigate without having to open her eyes. The red lighting had nothing on her. If anything, the lack of proper light came to her advantage. She could operate better like this. Matt had taught her sight was overrated and her training prepared her for the worst of circumstances. She could do this. She had to believe that or else she would break, she was sure of that.

The alarm spiked the anxiety behind the adrenaline. Her fists clenched around the makeshift weapons she carried with her. The radio she stole was on the wrong channel, so she manipulated the device until the static turned into a series of shouted Russian commands.

Intruder alert. The North entrance has been breached.

If she was correct, she had to be west. The north entrance was right in the middle between all four quadrants.

Foreign signature detected at the south entrance.

Only one more left.

Watch out for the west wing. The subjects need to be supervised at all times.

Get the Red Demon out of here. Boss’s Orders.

Of course, he would order them to take her away. He didn’t want to lose her precious gift. He ran away to protect himself, that coward, probably hiding away in his office at the other end of the complex. She had to get there somehow without getting caught and locked up again. More of those drugs she couldn’t take.

On our way to the target now.

A team has been sent out to check for the breach.

Eliza stared up at the security camera. The red light blinked. She tilted her head. Was he watching her? Surely he would have said something.

She clenched her fist in the air. The device crackled, sparks flying from the cables in the wall. The camera blew and with it, all the fuses connected to it.

We lost visual.

Do we have audio?

No. Security has been disabled in all of the rooms on the west wing.

Suspect is on the run.

She unlocked the door. The lights in the hallway flickered to the sound of steel boots approaching. They walked in formations, armed to their teeth. She wasn’t sure how many, but Viktor certainly had expanded his team. The number of super soldiers she encountered went above everything she was used to. Anytime now, the men could come around the corner. She was already outnumbered, dangerously so. In her state, even two people were too many for her to take on. She had no other choice though. Matt told her she always had, but not this time, not with this. She had to do this the way she had planned, even if it meant taking high risks.

Eliza tightened the fabric around the wound on her arm. It throbbed, the pain keeping her awake. The thrill knocked her senses into overdrive.

You’re not the weak girl you were before. You discovered your true power. Use it, don’t try to stop it. The stone does what you want, not the other way around.

That meant if she wanted to be strong, she could. The stone kept her safe and alive; it had gotten her out of that dire situation after all. Even though her body was struggling with the physical strain, her mind was awake and alert, all thanks to the stone. She was so used to using her empathy that she almost forgot that she had an even more powerful thing inside of her, and she had it right at her disposal. She didn’t know how to use it exactly, it just happened, but it worked and she was determined to let it work for her one last time.

She had made up a house out of nothing, fighting off a few Hydra soldiers had to be the easiest thing.

She ground her teeth. “Let’s finish this then.”

The men came around the corner just as she finished uttering the words.

She remembered the times back at SHIELD when Natasha would take her to the training grounds and explain the fighting simulation technology to her. She spent days trying to perfect her strategy in fighting an entire harem of people all on her own, but she never got further than eight men before she failed. No matter how hard she trained, even her fighting abilities had limits. Though when Natasha took her to train, there was a strict no-powers policy, which kept them equal during sparring but made it even more difficult for Eliza to fight. Her powers were part of her, shutting them off was nearly impossible.

This wasn’t a simulation, this was real life. She had no one to stand by her side or save her if things went wrong. There was no policy restricting her from using her powers. The fight that came around the corner was not a game or a training exercise, she had to do this and she had to use all means at her disposal to get ahead of the eleven men she counted. They were all heavily armed, ready to take her out, but not kill her. They weren’t allowed to.

Boss wants her alive, not dead.

She had an advantage.

Eliza flicked the stolen knife. They couldn’t shoot her because that meant they had to kill her. They could either use a taser to render her unconscious, inject her with something or knock her out some other way. Those were super soldiers, she had to remind herself, she needed to do a little more than just hit them in the face and hope for the best. Besides, Hydra trained them, they made them; without powers, they weren’t even remotely equal to her, but they had the same amount of strength and that gave them a boost that a normal person would not have.

She got through the first two easily. Cutting their arms, hitting their ribs, and then smashing their heads in. But they were coming from all sides now. She must have miscounted.

Invisible hands clawed at one of the men and threw him against the ceiling. Something cracked inside of him and he fell back to the ground like a wet sack of potatoes. She shot a red fireball made out of ice picks (she wasn’t sure how she came to that idea) toward another one. He ended up nailed to the wall before she let go and he passed out on the ground from the way his head had hit the wall behind him.

Two more she knocked out with her hands and foot, using the knife to slice them up without killing them. One of them lost an eye, which brought her back to the first night she met Daredevil. She had poked someone’s eye out then, too, but she had more important things to do than reminisce.

The first time she got a fist back into her face, she was startled. The man had his taser out, the electricity already crackling. She held her bleeding nose, staring at him. The injection site on her throat started to hurt again. She pressed a hand against that too. The adrenaline started to fade more into the background.

The men started to form a circle around her. Her muscles shook. She wasn’t physically strong enough to handle even one more. Her hits had weakened, she knew that, and she was swaying as if she’d had one too many drinks at a Christmas gathering. She was recovering way too slowly, probably due to the mystery drug in her system. It somehow took away everything that made her a super soldier and only left the mutant behind, but the mutant was useless if her body gave up, so she was hanging on by an even thinner thread than before. And since her mind wouldn’t stop reeling and turning into blurry pictures, she lost focus.

“You know, if you attack me,” she attempted to talk herself out of it, “you’re gonna regret it. You’re going to get hurt.”

She was so dizzy, she was no longer in control of anything. Her eyelids drooped. She was tired. The power in her veins urged her to stay awake, but even with the strength pooling underneath her skin, her body was done. She needed to rest.

“Give yourself up,” one of them said, something that sounded like a well-memorized script.

“And give you the satisfaction of seeing me fail? No thank you,” she spat.

“Stop fighting the inevitable. You are Hydra. You belong to us. There is no going back.”

“You don’t even know me. You’re just following orders. I might not look like it right now,” she pressed a hand to her ribcage, “but I’m dangerous. You saw what I can do with my bare hands.”

“You can’t win against us. You’re all alone.”

“She’s not alone.”

Eliza halted. Uh-oh.

She turned to look over her shoulder. The red of the lights was a brighter shade than the protective leather of his suit. With every flicker, his mask cast a shadow against the wall, making him look far taller than he was.

He reached for his thigh holster. “Duck,” he said.

She instantly bowed down. The baton flew across the hallway and hit the man that had been talking to her right in the head. He directed the other in the same direction, this time aiming for one of the guys blocking her.

The baton rolled to her feet. All hell broke loose. That was a stupid pun, she realized, with the Devil standing right behind her. He took out at least three men at the same time, leaving her with the remaining four. This time, she didn’t miscount. She used his weapon to knock out one and used the man to knock out his partner. The metal clanged against the other’s skull and the next, she broke his arm before she drop-kicked him. He fell to the ground next to his fellow groaning soldiers.

Her knees buckled. She could no longer pretend to be strong. Her chest heaved as she caved in on herself.

“Hey, Woah!” His voice sounded like a distant dream coming from her drugged state of mind.

Just when she thought he was merely a product of her imagination, his gloves brushed her shoulders. His lap came into view. A strong hand reached for her cheek, tilting her up by the chin. She looked into dark red eyes.

She squinted. “Matt?”

His finger lingered on her chin as if he couldn’t quite believe it himself. “Oh, sweetheart,” his voice sounded so broken.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” she said.

“Neither are you.”

“Natasha and the others…”

“They’re here too.”

“The breaches, that was you.”

“Yeah, that was us.”

“How did you find me?”

It was a valid, understandable question. He couldn’t even begin to describe the events that lead them there.

Matt sighed. “You remember Owen?” he said.

She nodded.

“Well, he told you a name when you questioned him. Evan Fowler, you remember that too?”

“I do, yeah.”

“Well, Natasha was the one who proposed the idea to question him because he was the only live connection we could lean on. She was the one who put her entire soul into finding his whereabouts.”

Of course, she did. When Natasha was determined, she always got what she wanted.

“Turns out, the guy was born a coward. He sold out the entire operation on a whim so that he wouldn’t incriminate himself.” He stroked his thumb over her cheekbone. “There wasn’t much left to do after that.”

Natasha was rougher than Matt was used to. She had unorthodox methods when it came to interrogation suspects. If it hadn’t been Eliza’s life on the line, he would have stopped her the second she nailed the man to his wooden chair with a nail gun, but Matt had lost the bone inside of him that cared about his life a long time ago. He only cared about getting her back, and the Avengers seemed to think the same thing.

“Now, we can do this the easy or the hard way,” Natasha had said. “You either tell me where this building is, where they are holding my friend, or I’m going to torture you until you’re begging for me to have mercy on you. Your choice.”

Her words and actions were effective. Matt remembered the past few hours in a blur.

Even when Steve made the plans for their infiltration, he only listened with half an ear. He acted because he had to in the capacity they told him to. He was numb, terrified at what he might find inside the huge complex. He couldn’t tell if she was still alive or what else they might have done to her. It scared him, not knowing how Eliza was or where she was. They were just gambling and hoping for the best, something he loathed in a situation as dire as this.

“Clint and Sam,” Steve said to them before they went inside, “I want you both on the outside, making sure no one comes in or out while we’re trying to get Eliza out of there.”

“Copy that, Captain,” Clint said and he was already on his way to climb the fence while Sam spread his wings and flew into the night.

“Natasha, your job is to get whatever hostages you can find out of there, which means you will be taking the second and third quadrants. Matt will take the first because that’s where I suspect they’re keeping her right now. If something happened to her, you’re the one she wants to see, not us,” he said. “I will enter through the roof. There is a chopper that Volkov will use to escape and I want to prevent that at all costs. If we get him, if we get Eliza and the others out, we’ve won.”

Steve’s plan seemed flawless, it just turned out a lot harder than it appeared to in theory.

Matt could have cried tears of joy when he caught onto her heartbeat, and then next when he finally held her in his arms, not quite yet convinced that she was real.

“I got her,” he whispered into the earpiece. “She’s alive.”

“Thank fuck for that!” Natasha cried out on the other end.

Eliza narrowed her eyes. “They’re here?” she asked and pointed to his ear.

“Yeah, they’re here. Natasha’s taking care of possible hostages, Clint and Sam are responsible to maintain security outside the building and Steve is making sure no one gets out of there. We’ve got you.”

She let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God.”

“But they don’t matter,” he said. He took the earpiece out and slipped it into his pocket. All he needed to hear and feel was her. He needed to convince himself that she was alive, and he would use all of his senses to take her in as long as he could. “What’s important right now is that you’re okay. I was so worried, I thought I was never going to see you again.”

“I know… I’m so sorry.” Her throat tightened. “I wasn’t thinking. I should have said goodbye. I should have… look what I’ve done!” She pointed around herself. “I should have thought this through. I should have… I…”

She expected his lower face to contort in anger. Instead, a tear slithered down the inside of his mask and onto his lips. He took his other hand to cradle her head, afraid she might break.

He shushed her. Eliza’s hiccups got swallowed by the familiar feeling of his lips on hers. It was a gentle kiss meant to shut her up, but at that moment, the kiss meant more to her than anything else. It meant she was finally safe, even if just for a moment.

Matt pressed his forehead to hers, the plastic of his mask giving a cool contrast to her burning skin. “You’re burning up,” he said. Taking off his glove to get a better picture, he pressed the back of his hand to her cheek. “But you’re cold at the same time. What did they do to you?”

While he was already on the topic, he touched her face, feeling her features underneath his fingertips. He pictured her eyes, her nose and her mouth. Other than a cracked lip and a broken nose, she didn’t seem seriously injured, and her heart was beating, he had to hold onto that.

Eliza breathed out shallowly. The comfort of his touch made it harder to stay awake.

He nudged her a little with his finger, forcing her to look up at him. The question was still evident on his face and he awaited an answer.

“I might have been drugged with an unknown substance,” she told him. “And they took about a pint of blood. I’m not sure.”

He felt the injection site on her neck. His jaw clenched. He was going to destroy whoever did this to her, though something told him that she wasn’t done yet.

“They might have also electrocuted me a couple of times while they stabbed me with several needles. I, uh, I managed to tear my IV out, but the things you see on television are actually not that real, so of course, I bled out a little. So yeah, I lost a bit too much blood and now my body feels like it’s on fire.”

“I can feel that. Your heartbeat’s all over the place,” he said, “C’mere.”

He laid her head in the crook of his neck before rising to his feet with her in his arms. She melted into the hug, pulling him closer than ever, and he shielded her from the world with his broad shoulders.

She choked on her sobs, “Thank you for coming back.”

“Yeah, did you think I was just going to leave you behind?” His eyes roamed aimlessly over her face. “Don’t try to find me. My ass! I’d rather put my life on the line for you again and again than let you do this all by yourself.”

“You should have just listened,” she cried.

“Nah, not a chance, sweetheart.”

“I’m serious, this is a bad, bad idea.”

Her knees buckled again. His arms were the only thing keeping her from hitting the ground.

“If you stay, you’re going to get hurt,” she said. “I left because you were in danger, you can’t just come back here and-“

“Eliza!” He practically shook her.

“What?!”

“Shut up! If you thought that stupid letter was going to make me hate you, you’re dumber than I thought.”

“I wish it did though.”

“Keep wishing then,” he pulled at her bottom lip, “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

She smashed her lips to his in fiery frustration. How could something so wrong possibly feel so good?

“We could die here, y’know?” she said.

“Better to die together than alone.”

“You are so messed up.”

Matt shrugged. “Eh.”

His ears seemed to pick up on something in the distance. The radio static sizzled. She searched for the new channel once again, listening in to the new orders.

All units head to the west wing now.

He tilted his head to the side. “I don’t speak Russian,” he reminded her, “but from what I can tell, we have a big storm coming for us.”

“Pretty much,” she said.

“Can you handle it? Can you stand?”

She took a deep breath, focusing on the sharp power in her grasp. She channeled the same feelings she had back at the house. She remembered the way it felt to be so broken and overwhelmed. She found herself in the wake of pain and destruction, discovering the true potential of her powers through a trip down memory lane. She had never felt more in control of herself than the moment she had the full force of the stone at her disposal.

Hydra got her back. The sight of the White Room triggered so many memories, she lost count. They physically drained her and made her weak and she let that restrict her mind from focusing on what was important.

She held an indescribable power in the palm of her hands. She should have asked more questions, should have studied herself more, and not let Tony or Bruce reassure her that it was nothing more than twisted empathy.

This power was great. It was terrifying but exciting. Eliza discovered parts of her she had never fathomed possible, all in the span of a few days. She figured the conscious dealing with herself broke through the lies she grew up with and made it possible to reveal the truth in the first place. If she hadn’t figured out that Tony lied to her, that Hydra was back and her father alive, or that she had the reality stone in her DNA and it wasn’t just some stupid gene defect, she would still be at the compound twiddling her thumbs. She probably wouldn’t have met Matt either, or she would have but they would have never gotten this far.

The truth was a blessing and a curse at the same time, but most of all, it was her motivation to go back to her roots and choke the fire out at the source.

Eliza rolled her shoulders back. “I can handle it,” she said. Her physical strength returned the second she let that strange feeling inside of her regain control, though this time, she was fully conscious of using what was given to her.

He nodded. “Good. From what I can tell, we have the first ten coming for us from the east side where the exit is. Five more down the hall and eight coming from the opposite direction.”

“So we’re surrounded?”

“We’re surrounded,” he said.

She wasn’t scared at the prospect. Her fingertips tingled. Twenty-three men for her to fight, for her to take out. She could prove herself once and for all.

The power sustained her. It wasn’t just one explosion that came and went; the atoms in her body had finally aligned. The discovery seemed more of an ongoing process, something that hit her once and she had to consciously deal with after.

Eliza pulled at Matt’s sleeve. “Wait,” she said, “there is something you should know.”

He stopped, diverting his attention to her again. She admired his ability to listen to her without letting anything else distract him. He was the first person to actually care about what she had to say.

“About me,” she added then.

He frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“I have… there are things that I can do… I…” she ground her teeth. “I don’t know how to explain it, I just figured out what it is exactly that I can do and it’s terrifying.”

“Okay.”

“I just thought you needed to know before I, you know, do some things you don’t understand. I mean, they might scare you. I… I’m scared of myself right now.”

“Hey,” he pulled her toward him by the waist, “There is nothing you could do that would ever scare me or make me think differently about you.”

“Matt…”

“I have you now, sweetheart. I am not letting you go again. Is that clear?”

She breathed deeply, nodding along slowly. Even after hurting him, he still loved her enough to stick around. It was twisted. He shouldn’t have come back. The longer he stayed, the more she was convinced that she didn’t deserve him.

“We need to focus now,” he said, gently stroking a strand of hair out of her face. “We can talk about the specifics later when this is all over, okay? You don’t have to do this alone anymore, you just need to focus.”

Eliza kissed him as if it was the last time.

“Yeah, I can focus,” she said.

“That’s my girl! C’mon.”

She followed him to the end of the hallway. Her eyes switched from their usual color to red. The power traveled from her skull, into her veins and lastly landed in her hands.

She saw the door at the end of the hallway to her right. Automatic double doors with an implemented metal lock in case of a temporary lockdown. The keypad and sensor were set into the wall on the other side. She could easily get from the medical quadrant to the dormitories and the training grounds, and then it would only be a jump to the building that Viktor undoubtedly hid in.

Eliza poured all of her strength into the hits. They were attacked before they could prepare. She knocked the weapons out of their hands with a flick of her wrist. Without any deadly objects pointing at her, fists would suffice. The surge of power gave her new strength.

Matt had enough rage inside of him to supply him for decades, it seemed. He plowed through the army of men heading for them with just his fists and his batons and he didn’t even flinch. Sweat coated the lower part of his face, but no signs of exhaustion were present, no usual curl of his lip or a limp of his shoulders.

Her gaze lingered a little too long on the graceful man opposite from her. She missed one of the soldiers who had gotten up to attack her again. He was a relentless bastard. The blade slid against the fabric of his suit. Matt could hear the metal loud and clearly. She turned around only after sensing movement behind herself, though it was already too late then. The knife jammed into her shoulder and she cried out, the pain sharp just below her collarbone.

The man seemed victorious for just a moment before one of the red batons soared across the hallway and hit him straight in the face. She kicked him to make sure he would stay down, all the while the knife still stuck out of her skin.

She groaned. Pulling it out was a foolish idea, but she wasn’t exactly close to a hospital. Eliza prayed it hadn’t nicked any necessary blood vessels, pulling at it until the blade dislodged and slid out of her flesh with the most disgusting squishing sound. She bit down on her lip, drawing blood. The shirt and the flannel were both stained red now, the knife tumbling to the floor, followed by a trail of her blood.

“Ah, motherf-” she pressed a hand against the wound. The hot liquid already coated her palm. It wasn’t serious, the pain bearable, but the amount of blood still concerned her.

Matt was by her side in seconds. “You got distracted,” he said. “You could have gotten killed. What were you thinking?”

He pulled his gloves off again to feel the wound. Her skin shifted, the bone didn’t. Nothing seemed to be broken. She replaced her lip with her wrist to muffle the scream when he applied even more pressure than before.

“Alright, I’m just going to ruin this shirt. It’s not yours anyway.” He tore at the bottom of the flannel until a big piece came off. Just like the tourniquet around her elbow, he wrapped it around her shoulder and pulled hard. She cried out again. “That should stop the bleeding for now, but you’re gonna need stitches eventually.”

She trapped his hand where it remained on the wound. “Thank you.” She tried to look into his eyes as she spoke, but it was hard to tell where they were behind the mask.

If he had been able to see her eyes, he would have seen the faint red tinge inside of them that remained even after the first fight was over. She looked at him as if this was their last goodbye, something he couldn’t have sensed even if he had tried.

“Five more?” she questioned.

His head cocked in the direction they came from. The orders and the echoing boots grew louder. Metal clanked against more metal.

He let go of her shoulder to retrieve his batons. “Five more,” he agreed.

“You want to do the honors or should I?”

“I’m not the one whose blood they want so just… stand back. Your powers are worth nothing if you get stabbed thirsting after me.”

She suspected he would say that.

“They’re all yours,” she said.

She waited for the first few grunts to come. The men he missed rounded the corner; it was just two this time. She took her time to knock them out. When she was sure Matt wasn’t in over his head and she finally had a window, she turned on her heel and jogged toward the door she had made out earlier.

She could already hear the hell that had broken loose in the other building, more men coming to find the intruders, but most importantly her. The whole thing was a mess, suggesting they were trying to divert the attention from what was happening. From Viktor, from the other subjects, from the Avengers trying to destroy the place from the inside out. They were scared and for good reason. No one knew where she was and without shackles, she could do unspeakable things. But her plan wasn’t to burn the building down and call it a day. She had other things on her mind.

The look of betrayal on Matt’s face broke her heart all over again. She stood right behind where the door would close once she pushed the button.

“Eliza,” he said. His steps had slowed; he knew where she was. It appeared as if he read her mind. “Eliza, there are more coming from the east wing. Whatever you’re doing, think it through.”

Her fingers ghosted over the keypad, the red alarm button that would disable all door functions in the entire complex the second she would pull at it. Then they would know what her plan was. They would know and even more men would come for her, but it was a chance she was willing to take.

“I told you, you’re not doing this alone. I’m here to help. Natasha, Clint, Steve, and Sam are all walking around the place right now. We can win this.”

“I thought this through,” she stated calmly.

“I don’t think you have.”

“I did. I have a plan, Matt. I had one from the beginning.”

“Eliza, please, I am begging you. I just got you back, I can’t lose you again.”

She pulled the button. The alarm blared even louder. The glass doors shut and the metal lock started to crawl out of its place in the ceiling.

Matt launched forward, but the glass separated them. He pressed his palm flat against the cold surface, bumping his forehead against the glass, and the horns made a small clanging sound at the collision.

“Damn you,” he choked out. “Why can’t you just listen?”

Eliza did the most conscious thing. She met his hand on the other side of the glass, wishing she could touch him but knowing she had made her decision and the time to change courses was over. Her mind was made up. She couldn’t turn back now.

She leaned her forehead against the glass as well, just a little lower than his. “I am so sorry,” she said.

He nodded. “I know,” his voice broke.

“Matt, you know the last thing I ever wanted to do was to hurt you but I did and I am so sorry things had to turn out this way. But I think… if I had to go back to the day we met, the choices I made… I would do them all over again because they led me to you.”

Matt clenched his fist. “And I didn’t mean it when I said that I wish I’d never met you.”

“I know,” her chuckle turned into a strangled sob. “I am so sorry, Matthew. I wish this could have gone differently.”

“It still can, you can still reverse the alarm. You can reopen that door and we can walk out of here together.”

She saw the hope in his expressive eyes without even seeing them. She could see the colors around his soul even through the barricade, she could feel how deeply he cared, how much pain he was in, and the all-consuming fear.

The metal was coming down on her faster now. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I can’t. You know I can’t.”

“Sweetheart, please. Don’t leave me again.”

“I meant it when I said that you were better off without me.” She stepped back. All the color faded from his skin. Even his palm turned pale white. “You should get out while you still can.”

“No, you can still stop this.”

“I’m sorry, Matthew.”

“Please, this is stupid. All this time, there was nothing we couldn’t conquer. This isn’t any different. Eliza, just… please. I love you!”

“It’s best if you don’t.”

Soon enough, the glass door was covered completely by dark metal. Matt disappeared. The reason she kept going in the first place vanished behind the steel wall. She heard the glass on the other side crack from where he landed his foot into it.

For the second time, she walked away. She had thought the first time to be the last, but knowing her family, they weren’t going to back down without a fight. This time though, she decided, it was final. She would do what she had to do and then it was over. She had one last fight left in her, the one fight she had been working toward for seven years, and she would be damned if she didn’t succeed on the first try.

On the other side of the door, Matt panted into the earpiece. “Change of plans, I’ve lost her,” he said.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Yeah, she locked me out. I have no way of getting to her in time, even if I tried, and I think I have about a dozen more super soldiers heading for me.” He listened around the corner. “More like half a dozen, but still…”

“How did this happen?” Natasha snapped. “You had one job!”

“Oh, I’m sorry! You try getting her to not do something she has set her mind to without physically restraining her.”

“Okay, fair point.”

“I think she is going to do something really stupid - something out of Eliza-proportions stupid,” he said, “so you guys need to find her fast before things can get any worse.”

“What do you mean by that?” Clint asked him.

Matt listened to her footsteps disappear and fade with the strange pairs that followed. “Something she is going to regret if we don’t stop her,” he said.

“And what’s that, Houdini?”

Natasha seemed to catch onto what he meant. “Oh no.”

The pair came to the same conclusion at the same time, “She’s going to kill Volkov.”

And this time, Eliza would finally make it stick.

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zucchiniegg · 2 years

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adhd hacks that actually worked for me (i’m drunk)

wall calendar. one with multiple months at a time on it. mine has 4 months which is enough for a whole semester (i’m in school rn so that works great)

when i am no longer in school, i am dead serious on this, i am buying two more of these so i can lay out a year at a time on the back of my door.

cross off the days every night before you go to bed. u gotta make it TACTILE. u gotta make it BIG and CLEAR and PHYSICAL.

put things on the walls. stop keeping everything in drawers. not only will you forget where it is but you will never put it away if it takes more than 1 step.

i have my meds hanging on a hook next to my bedroom door & my masks on hooks. i keep my graphics tablet on a hook by my computer when im not using it. i know it sounds insane but it works. decorate your walls with Items.

buy command hooks. yes the brand name ones. the no name ones don’t work, i’ve tried. splurge on this. they will last forever and they will not damage your paint if used correctly.

if ‘organizing,’ feels overwhelming, think about ‘subdividing’-- e.g. i used to have a very messy shelf full of all my medicine cabinet stuff. now i have two moderately messy shelves, one full of toiletries and one full of first aid stuff.

someday perhaps i will further subdivide them. for now, this is twice as tidy as it was before!

there is a voice in your head telling you to ‘just leave it on the table and tidy it up later.’ this voice is the devil! if you hear this voice often, consider getting a bin to keep on your desk for all the things the devil tells you to leave out.

i call this ‘localizing the mess.’ then instead of having a messy desk, you have a messy bin. less overwhelming. much better.

this also works on computers. i have a ‘localized mess’ folder on my desktop. inside of it is an older ‘localized mess’ folder. i do not judge myself for this even when i want to.

repurpose stuff for organization. i love little bins. if you need a bin for anything (i.e. the devil bin mentioned in the previous point) you can just use a small cardboard shipping box, or cut up a bigger box to make one.

use what you have lying around. when you have something in your mess that can be used to hold OTHER mess, then do that and you have saved yourself a cleaning-up step!

if buying pretty little bins or boxes or hooks etc motivates you to tidy up then go for it! the whole ‘ohhhh you don’t need MORE stuff to deal with your EXISTING stuff’ is like. whatever.

i have a couple plastic trays i bought at walmart and they are the only reason my medicine cabinet is not actively on fire right now. so.

set alarms on your phone. i’m not gonna tell you to use your phone calendar bc i would simply forget to check my phone calendar. so whenever you book an appointment, IMMEDIATELY open your phone calendar and set TWO alarms. one for the day before the appointment, and one for about half an hour before you will have to leave for said appointment.

you will grow to despise your alarm tone. this is okay and preferable to missing doctors appointments. if you become filled with rage every time your phone vibrates you are doing it right.

dishwashing scrubbies that you can fill with soap.

my roommate disagrees w me on the merits of this one but if i did not have this thing i would not do the dishes. perhaps this is Just A Me Thing but the title is things that work for ME so.

oooooooh im done now! there’s more but i’ve been drinking a big sippie of ginger ale and vodka this whole time and ive reached the point where it is time to go watch chicago fire instead. good night

#ryan rambles #tulry i cannot give a fuck anymore. sorry to anyone who doesnt wanna see this #but guess what. this is MY shitpost blog and i made for to post what IIIIIIIIIII think is funny and also whatever i want.#i'm kissing you ALLLLLLL straight on the mouth. goodn ight

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helpesslywriting · 6 months

Text

Penelope had cried herself out, day after day. A month and a half passed since the day Priest Ackerman had come to her door and offered her comfort. People had come by, and left meals or drinks at the back door, not wanting to draw attention by going to the front.

"The poor girls had enough negative attention as it is." Her friend Locke had scolded an onlooker who was staring blatantly at her darkened home. "She doesn't need you wraiths hanging out, eyeballing her like some sort of void monster." She waved them away with the towel she kept slung over her shoulder and glared at them until they left the street, glancing back at her with a more than displeased expression.

When Locke appraoched the door, she was shocked to find it slightly ajar and movement from isnide. She picked up the bottle of juice she had been meaning to bring over and hold it over her head like a club and pushed the door open to see Penelope storming across the room.

"Gods!" Locke snap as she jumped in fright at the sight of her friend when she whirled around and brandished a butcher knife at her. "It's just you, you scared me!" She stepped inside and closed the door behind her. "What in the world are you doing?"

"Packing." Penelope said simply and went back to storming across the room toward the table where a large bag laid open and several items lay organized and ready to be put inside.

A change of clothes, dried foods, paper, pencils, a water skin, a hat, a shawl. Then the butcher knife was laid down next to a pair of socks. "Packing for what?!" Locke demanded as she began piecing together the items on the table with what was going on. "Are you running away?"

"No." Penelope stopped, eyes darting along the items on the table. "Maybe, if I find a place I like living better than here."

"You're insane!" Locke hissed as she put the bottle down on the table and braced herself at the tables end, leaning on her palms. "You know whats out there!"

"Void monsters, I know." Penelope picked up the butcher knife again, as if this would explain everything. "I can't just keep staying here, staying cooped up, hoping everyone will forget what he did and staring at me like I've grown extra limbs I dont need. Or with pity like I'm a sick animal in need of help." The auburn haired girl huffed and shook her head. "I'm tired of it. I want to go somewhere, I want to be outside again!"

"Then come with me," Locke pleaded as her friend went to dig around in a drawer across the room in a chest of drawers. "We can go on a walk, somewhere safe away from everyone."

"No, I don't want to go somewhere I've been--" She trailed off before shaking her head again hard and pulling out a leather flap that contained flint and some steel to light fires with. "I want to go somewhere new." She whirled around and pointed at her friend, whose mouth was already open. "By myself."

"That's practically suicide!" Locke argued as Penelope made her way back to the kitchen area and started stuffing the bag with her bigger supplies. "Have you thought this through?" She saw her friends brow furrow as she kept stuffing her bag. "Who will protect you? You don't have any training in self defense? There wont be any iron protectors to keep you safe in the wild!"

"I know," She stomped away to the counters to grab a second, smaller bag that was stuffed with other dried foods and a second water skin. "But I'm too hurt and angry to just roll over and die, Locke. I've gotta do something. Being here, in this town, having to see everyones faces is just too much....Who knows. Maybe I'll find another village nearby and just do a vacation. Or, I could get out and see some things and then come home. I don't know what I'll do but I have to do something."

She hauled the other bag over to the kitchen table and sighed, "Being here, it's like a festering sore. I'm not an idiot. I know people are gossiping about me. I know his parents have come by and tried to talk to me. They want to apologize. But I just don't have it in me to forgive them and it's hurting me even more to know that I won't if I keep feeling like this." She looked up and locked eyes with her friend. "I want to get better and I think some time away to myself will help remind me that Tav truly isn't the world. That there's a whole world out there and no one has the ability to stop me from doing what I want." She gripped the bag tightly, an overly familiar pain in her throat. That's all she could manage anymore. Tears had stopped forming weeks ago.

"if you need something new, why not try learning at the Temple? Or blacksmithing or something that was interesting before?" Locke was the one crying now. Tears falling from her hazel eyes and wetting her brown dress. "I'm worried sick that once you leave the village I won't see you again."

"I wouldn't disappear completely, if I found a new village or a life for myself." Penelope put down the bag and walked around the table to embrace her friend warmly. "I would come back to let you know, how else would you get to come visit me?" She felt her friend hug her tightly and cry softly for a moment before she let go and wiped her eyes.

"I know there's no changing your mind, not now." She waved her hands in front of her face to help dry her cheeks. "You're already mostly packed....so..." She put her hands on her hips and sighed heavily. Just when Penelope thought Locke was going to argue, she nodded. "What else do you need?"

Penelope adjusted her bag on her back and the one on her hip before she looked back at Locke, her pairing Keaye and Ackerman. They had walked her to the edge of the village, where the fields and the dirt paths ended and the wilderness began. In the distance, Penelope would make out the forms of a few Iron Protectors moving slowly while on patrol. Glimpses between the trees at their long mechanical arms swaying with the slow hobble of a walk.

"You always have a home here." Ackerman said as he put his hands together in prayer and dipped his head.

"You better not die." Locke warned and gave her one last hug around the neck. "I mean it."

"I heard you the last ten times." Penelope laughed and hugged her friend back. A small cold tingle tickled the back of her neck, a prick of fear of leaving the well known area. The excitement made her stomach tremble in anticipation of the unknown.

She pulled back and turned on her heel, if she stood waiting around for them to leave first, she would never start. Her resolve would buckle. She couldn't allow herself the opportunity to back out. Not when doing this made so much sense.

She could hear them calling out well wishes, prayers and demands to come back. As she walked, she raised her clenched fist in response, a false facade that she was unafraid. In truth, once she was out of sight of the iron protectors, even though the plains rolled gently and nothing could be seen for miles, she was scared.

Daylight was safe. Relatively. Accidents sometimes happen, like with her parents. A fire at the library had trapped them, and they lost their lives when she was just a teenager. There were also wolves, spiders, other beings that wanted to do her harm.

She knew she could handle travel during the day. She was cautious, and knew to be wary of cliffs and random holes. But it was the night she was truly afraid of.

No one knew the true reason why, and who you asked got you a different answer. What was the source of the void monsters? An inky blackness that seemed to spawn monsters that took on the form of nightmares. Moving skeletons, zombies, and scaley four legged creatures known simply as "creepers".

At night, when the sun had dipped low enough behind distant mountains, the void would begin to produce its beasts and creatures. Iron protectors defended the village night and day from any sort of attacker, so the villagers could rest easy and enjoy their relatively peaceful lives.

Now she would not have their protection. Now, she truly was alone. And afraid. But she pushed on. She hasn't heard of anyone who had left the village and traveled as far as she wanted to and come back. Who knew how close the next village was? The town she grew up in was rather large, and was not interested in forming a trade route with anyone else.

Soon the plains gave way to a oak forest, and trees grew tall and proud, untouched by man in close clumps. She pressed on, dodging trees as she walked at a quickened pace. The trees at her back made her paranoid, it was too easy for something to sneak up on her without her knowing.

Birds were chirping, sticks we're breaking under her feet. In the distance she saw something move. She froze and reached for the sword at her hip that Keaye had given her for her protection at the demands of his pairing. As the town blacksmith, she knew his work was good, and that it wouldn't break easily. She brandished it as the white figure came around the side of a tree.

A sheep. It turned and baa'd at her, it's strange eyes boring into her as it lowered its head to eat some of the grass growing between the oaks roots.

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wwwmanifestmoneytips · 1 year

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<strong>13 Easy Ways On How To Store Necklaces In A Box!</strong>

New Post has been published on https://manifestmoneytips.com/how-to-store-necklaces-in-a-box/

13 Easy Ways On How To Store Necklaces In A Box!

Storing necklaces in a box is a great way to keep them clean, organized, and protected from other pesky items that like to hide inside your jewelry packaging.

There are a lot of ways to keep necklaces and other pieces of jewelry. The most popular way is using a jewelry box or any organizer where you can store your necklaces without messing them up!

Today, I’ll tell you in detail how to store necklaces in a box in different ways to keep you safe from tangling. So, let’s go!

The Best Ways On How To Store Necklaces In A Box

There are various options for storing necklaces in a box. Because storing necklaces in containers is an easy way to keep them organized. So they don’t get tangled and mixed up with other jewelry items.

Use Jewelry Box

You can use many different kinds of generic jewelry boxes to store necklaces. These boxes have sliding lids that keep your necklaces organized, pendant shanks keep them from getting tangled inside the box, and many others.

But the best part about these jewelry boxes is that they are cheap. So, you don’t need to go with cheap jewelry boxes; instead, go with solid wooden containers that will give your necklaces a high-quality look. So this is a good solution as well.

Organize Jewelry in your Roll Organizer

Some people love to kit their rolls with necklaces. Some people love to wear them around their necks. But these days, it’s much easier to store necklaces in a box today than in the old days.

However, even if you buy a roll of jewelry, stretching organizers are available beside you. It will be more cost-effective and keep your items organized and well-protected from other things that could harm them if they get mixed up with them.

Keep it In jewelry trays

You can keep your necklaces inside a jewelry tray by sliding the tray to open it. First, make sure you choose a cheese box that fits into your drawer. Then slip the necklaces inside and close the drawer for easy access.

Use Pill Case Organizer

If you love your pill case organizer too much, it can be a great way to store necklaces in a box without a problem. But you must be very careful when storing your items inside the cases. Because if you’re not careful and accidentally drop your necklaces on the ground, they could get damaged.

Use Straws for Organizing Necklaces

According to the experts, when you use straws to organize necklaces, it is important to remember that they are very delicate. So if you are going to do this, be sure that you do it carefully. At any rate, putting your jewelry items through a straw is one of the easy ways to store necklaces in a box.

Use Cardboard As a Jewelry organizer

If you do not know how to store necklaces in a box, cut two pieces of cardboard for the ends of your box. Your cardboard should be bigger than the width of your necklace. For example, if my necklace is 5 inches wide, I would use a 6-inch piece of cardboard for one side and an 8-inch piece for the other.

Tape one end to each end of your box using clear packing. Or you can use duct tape to ensure that your necklace stays. Place something heavy on top of the package before you tape it (hot water bottles work well). Place it somewhere out of sight, away from direct sunlight and heat sources like fires or furnaces.

Keep Plastic Wrap for Necklaces

You can keep a plastic wrap protector for necklaces in a box. If you already have a plastic wrap protector in your drawer, it is easy to store necklaces in a box. But you have to make sure that you wrap your necklaces around the cone of the plastic wrap. Otherwise, they will tangle together.

Use Bubble Wrap

You can store your jewelry inside bubble wrap. Using bubble wrap as jewelry packaging is a good way to keep your items safe and organized. Just make sure that you use different colors of bubble wrap, so you don’t mix up your jewelry.

Use Ziploc Bags

The Ziploc bags are very good for storing jewelry because they are moisture and gas-resistant. So it will be fine if you use them to store your necklaces. But when you do this, you should ensure that they are well sealed and placed in a box with other things to keep them safe and prevent them from mixing up with other items that were stored improperly.

Use Hangers for Necklaces Or Other Jewelry

Hanging your necklaces is a great option as well. There are many different types of hangers that you can use for this purpose. You need some wire hangers or plastic suede hangers, and you’re all set up for the necklace storage.

Use Decorative Hooks To Hang Necklaces

Still confused about how to store necklaces in a box? If you like to use decorative hooks, you can do that and then change them up every few weeks. Then, you can place your necklaces on any hooks and never worry about tangles or mixing them with other jewelry items.

Another thing you need to keep in mind is that your decorative hooks will be located in a different area than where the other jewelry items are stored. Make sure this is okay for you before moving forward with this option.

Use Designer Jewelry Organizer

You can use a designer jewelry organizer box to store necklaces. Make sure your necklaces will fit easily inside the box. So you don’t have any problems with tangling.

A good example is the locket jewelry box with a necklace, bracelet, and earring organizer. This jewelry organizer comes in various shades, sizes, and designs. So you can find one to match your personality.

Fold Toilet Paper Rolls

Last but not least, you can use toilet paper rolls to organize your necklaces. You can easily cut down the rolls and then fold them in half. Then slide your necklaces inside. This is a good way to store necklaces in a box if you’re going out camping or traveling and you don’t have any room for other jewelry boxes.

Overall, keeping your necklaces organized helps you in many ways. Like when it comes to finding the right necklace for the right occasion or ensuring that they stay intact while worn around your neck.

Final Words

So, there you have it! Now that you have all the information about how to store necklaces in a box from tangling or getting lost. All you have to do is follow the steps.

If you found this content useful, please take some time to share it on social media so more people can find out about it. Don’t forget to share because sharing is caring. I love to connect with you guys on different social platforms. So, stay in touch with us!

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 3 years

Text

Draw your swords, pt. 2

Summary: While marriage was the last thing he’d want, especially with his enemies’ daughter, the Darkling isn’t above playing dirty to get what he wants. But his wish for a wedding night turns sour once he realizes his bride is anything but a weak human.

Warnings: angst, swearing, sexual references

Part one

===========================

Walking down a hall, Y/N felt her heart drop as they neared a room meant for them. Glancing over her shoulder, she realized Darkling’s faithful Grisha followed them every step of the way.

Stopping moments before she walked into her now husband, Y/N turned on her heel. With a smile believable to anyone with an outsider’s perspective, she folded her hands before her abdomen.

“Did you guys enjoy the wedding?” Her voice is light, cheerful even. It felt odd, enough for Kirigan’s eyes to narrow at Ivan and Fedyor who replied simultaneously.

“Yes.” “No.”

Chuckling, she raised her eyebrows, “Well, did you both attend the same wedding?”

Swallowing thickly, Fedyor decided to speak for Ivan who was still disgruntled nearly as much as Kirigan.

“The wedding was perfect and you were a vision.”

Humming, she nods, “I’m glad it wasn’t a waste of time for you as it was for me. Good evening.” Turning her back on their flabbergasted faces, Y/N lifted her chin before entering the room on her own.

She could hear Kirigan’s annoyed sigh as he dismissed his Grisha, but the sound of the doors closing truly rattled her insides. Looking to him, she held her breath to stop a shuddered one from escaping her.

"I understand it's not what you expected", he smiled frostily. "I had plans that didn't include you either. But I suppose we'll both have to make do."

She scoffed, narrowing her eyes, "Make do?"

It was their wedding night, doors shut with no witnesses and the marriage arranged for the two of them felt like a noose tied around her neck. She swallows thickly, hyper aware of the bed dominating the room behind her and her hands, wrapped in each other behind her back have begun to tremble.

The general she married leaned back against the door, looking her up and down with a smile of slow appreciation. "Well, you are mine now."

"I may be tied to you by state laws, but I am not yours", she spat.

"No", he smirked, "Not yet." He peels away from the doors, stepping closer. He takes off his black kefta, draping it on a chair. Beginning to unbutton his black, silk shirt, the General looked at her as if she were a caged bird meant for his amusement.

"There are some traditions for tonight", he took one step toward her as he hummed.

"Are you familiar with the word defenestration?" She raised her voice ever so slightly, refusing to step back in fright. He does not get to challenge her and win. Not now, not ever. She does not draw back in a fight, her father taught her so.

"No", he raised an eyebrow, unsure what she means.

"If you come anywhere close to me", she growled out, "I will make sure you find out first hand."

"Don't be so quick to dismiss a good time", he purred, coming closer.

"Oh please, my heel is bigger than your dick."

Raising his eyebrows, the Darkling nearly scoffed at her confidence in this matter. "How can you be so sure when you've never even seen it?"

"No man with anger like yours could ever have something in his pants worth my time."

"You are my wife, are you not?" He narrowed his eyes at her and she rolled hers in contempt.

"Unfortunately."

"Glad you're aware of it", he licks his lips, "Means we're on the same page."

"Same page? We're not even in the same book!"

Those eyes of hers, as fierce and unperturbed by anything he did, could swallow stars and galaxies and universes. As far as he's concerned, she did for he could see them all mirrored in the defiance she locked her gaze onto his with.

"This", he whispers aggressively. "You", he presses closer until his lips are but a faint inhale away from hers, "Are mine. He gazes down at her, gauging her reaction, his eyes burning.

"You're a demon", she speaks through gritted teeth. "I don't trust demons, I don't lay with demons", she pushed against his chest with both her hands, "All you do is destroy."

"I’d say the same thing about you, human."

Rolling her eyes at him, she refuses to relent. Her body is tense, her neck aching from looking up at his dark presence she would not bend before. She isn’t a horse to be broken, she’s a soldier, her father’s daughter.

“Why are you glaring at me?” He grumbled, his lips nearly brushing against hers and she noticed.

Her heart skipped a beat once she realized just how close he is, “I’m hoping you’ll combust spontaneously.”

Raising an eyebrow, a cold smile forms on his lips, “Ah, how cute. But you’re no Inferni.”

“I’m better”, she brought her knee up so swiftly he didn’t see it coming. As her knee collided right between his legs, Kirigan bent over, bellowing in pain.

“Don’t you know who I am?!” He growled with fury, struggling to straighten up. Forced to look up at the smug smile upon her lush, rosy lips, Kirigan never felt more enraged by a woman before.

“I do.” Shrugging, she sat at the bottom of the bed. “I just don’t fucking care. You don’t scare me.”

His gaze felt like fire, setting every inch of her skin aflame and she couldn’t help but wonder if it was hate or lust that burned so bright within him….within her. Either way, she knew she’d be teasing him like this every day if it meant he’d look at her like that. She always did like playing with fire, Inferni or not, and Kirigan just made himself an easy target.

On one knee, he gripped the sheets in an attempt to pull himself up, yet all he could do is groan and clutch his groin.

Gripping his chin, she locked her gaze on him with an unforgivable disobedience. “I wasn’t born to be soft and quiet. I’m not a dutiful wife who desperately seeks your attention. I’m a general’s daughter. I was born to make the world shatter and shake at my fingertips.” Turning his head to the door, she leans in and whispers in his ear. “And now you can leave while your manhood is still relatively untouched.”

“I could kill you for this”, the Darkling threatens, wishing he could wrap his hands around her pretty little neck and squeeze the resistance out of her along with her life.

“I’d like to see you try”, she sneered. Standing abruptly, she turned her back on him.

Sitting with his back against the doorframe, Darkling glared at her with burning passion – for vengeance, of course. While he assumed she’d be difficult, he didn’t presume her to be as strong-willed. A part of him was certain she’d cave once he turned on his charm, but she never allowed him to.

Noticing her hand movement, he quickly realized she’s unbuttoning her kefta as well. In seconds, his eyes widen as she slips the kefta off her shoulders and it falls to the floor. Nothing but a sheer gown hugs her body so tightly, the Darkling felt his breath stop in his throat.

Glancing over her shoulder, her eyes fixed on him, “Do you have no manners?”

She kept her eyes locked on his as she turned, opened her gown and slipped it from her shoulders, exposing her body to him. In his eyes appeared a mix of hunger and desire in such intensity that she was both excited and frightened.

“I’m the only one allowed to look at you, that’s a right you can’t strip me of.”

In time it takes for a heartbeat to echo in her ears, the Darkling stood before her. She took a shuddering breath as he gathered her into his embrace.

“Are you planning on forcing yourself onto me?” Y/N’s jaw clenched as her nostrils flare.

Pressing his lips together, his dark eyes narrow in disbelief, “Do you honestly believe me to be so evil?”

Speaking through gritted teeth, she remarks, “Yes.”

Nodding, her purses his lips. Raising his hands in mock surrender, Kirigan moves away from her. He straightens his back, finishing unbuttoning his shirt until the end – just before he lets it fall to the ground.

She swallows thickly, refusing to look anywhere below his chin. For a moment, she could have sworn a flash of hurt crossed his eyes, but she blamed the candlelight for the deceit. There is nothing good, nothing human in general Kirigan. He cannot feel hurt and she refused to let him past her defenses. She will not feel for him, she will not fall for him. He’s a task she had to manage, nothing more.

Unzipping his pants, he took the rest of his clothes off.

Her eyes flicker to his middle as he heads to the bed, realizing he’s wearing undergarments.

Relieved, Y/N opened the drawers, finding herself a proper nightgown to cover herself with. Once her body was no longer open to his view, she looked to him with pursed lips.

“I will not touch you”, he rolls his eyes, “But we are married. Might as well make the rest of the world believe the arrangement is somewhat functional.”

Looking at the door, she contemplated leaving. Sharing a bed with someone, anyone, was intimate. It required trust, love, a sense of safety and loyalty she certainly didn’t share with Kirigan.

“If you choose to leave, it will be all they talk about it the morning”, Darkling warns her and she huffs.

“If you lay a hand on me, I’ll be seeing you at the end of the altar once more. But in a casket during your funeral”, she glares at him and he can’t help but chuckle at her words.

He watched her settle in the bed, beside him. Placing a pillow between them seemed rather odd, but he didn’t mind it. In fact, he half expected her to make an attempt on his life on their wedding night. He still wasn’t sure she wouldn’t. He wasn’t sure he wouldn’t do the same.

“Sweet dreams, wife”, he smiled as she blew out the candle and the darkness settled in. He always felt comfortable in the dark.

She never felt comfortable in darkness, but he’d never know. She would be brave from now on – she wouldn’t bend, break or bow to anyone.

“I hope your dreams are filled with Volcra”, she snapped before turning on her side, further away from him.

Eventually, despite her initial distrust for the man, Y/N fell into a deep, exhausted sleep. She shifted in her sleep, throwing her leg over Kirigan’s, her hair twisting round and round his arm.

But the Darkling did not fall asleep immediately. She moved against him and snuggled closer. Even though she wouldn’t come close to him awake, she reached for him in her sleep. She wanted him nearby and it drew a smile to his lips. Catching himself smiling, the Darkling sat up in distress.

She may be appealing, but he cannot get attached to her. Ever.

His heart beats loudly, deafening so, his mind unable to slow down even for a moment. How could he fall asleep when he knew this angel beside him was simply a devil in disguise?

She’s a human – daughter of his enemy. Once she serves her purpose, the Darkling knew what he had to do. Turning her back on her side, he fixes the pillow in the middle. She’s a human, fleeting, he’s eternal and he will not allow himself the weakness of caring for someone like her.

Just as his mind drifts, he feels an arm wrap around him and he tenses up, eyes opening wide. “Fuck.”

Tags: @kaqua @savannah-elliott @all-art-is-quite-useless

PART 3

#the darkling #the darkling x reader #aleksander morozova #general kirigan #shadow and bone #general kirigan x reader #aleksander morozova x reader

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kyovtani · 3 years

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Bodyguard!Kawa who teases you and flirts with you without realising how much it affects your cute little body. Until one day you go to him, begging for him to follow through with his teasing promises.

okay nonie this lit just had my corruption kink lights go OFF pls- this is so delicious I LOVE IT HERE–

— cw: corruption kink, teasing, kawa mocks your whimpers, light hard dom!kawa, clit play

when oikawa first starts working for your father, it's not his job to look after you. he's there for your mother and most of the time he's supposed to be with your dad but after a while, he finds himself at your door and by your side.

he doesn't question it, he just knows your father wants you to be safe and trusts him the most, which is why he chose him, of all guards. and to say that oikawa enjoys being (one of) your personal bodyguard(s) is an understatement.

in the beginning, he flirts with you every now and then, knowing that none of his fellow colleagues are going to rat him out to the boss because everyone knows what a big flirt he is.

as time goes by, his flirting turns more and more suggestive and oikawa begins to become a lot bolder the more confident he gets. the only reason for this being the fact that he found out about your lack of satisfaction from your most recent little boy-toy.

he knows you're not the most experienced, only having had a couple of boyfriends before and only a few of them actually getting to touch.

but oikawa is also very much aware of just how naughty you are. he's got a few glimpses of your little twitter account which is basically filled with rather hardcore porn. who can blame him, though? it's not like you're being subtle about it anyway.

you always leave your door room open a little, as if you wanted Oikawa to hear your little moans and whiny begs as you touched yourself in broad daylight, not giving two fucks about all the security guards in your house.

and as the weeks fly by, tooru finds himself growing more and more aroused by the mere sight of your face. you're just so sweet, so kind, you look so innocent and pure but it's because nobody knows about all those little toys in your drawer, the ones you like to stuff your tiny little cunt with almost every night of the week.

but Oikawa knows. he knows how badly you want- no, need someone to fuck you properly.

and after getting to know you for quite a while, Oikawa also knows exactly what to say to get you all riled up. and even though you like to act as if it doesn't affect you, both of you are very well aware of how badly you usually ruin your little lacy panties whenever he teases you.

his favorite thing to do is annoy you with the fact that none of your boyfriend has ever made you cum, something he heard you saying to your best friend on the phone and his absolute favorite fact to exist ever since.

he wants to get you all worked up to the point where you can't take one single breath without thinking of him and his fat cock.

and it doesn't take much for him to do, either. he's got you wrapped around his finger after all.

"been starring at my cock all day, angel baby", he hums, his pretty lips stretched into a shit-eating grin as he catches your gaze drop down to his clothed crotchf for the nth time, "is it because you know it's bigger than any of the little boy toy-cocks you've had or is it because you want it inside your little pussy, hm?"

you whimper at his words. not only those, but also his attitude, his cockiness, his confidence and that stupidly pretty face- all of these things make it so much harder for you to keep your composure.

but you remain strong. most of the time.

however, after weeks and weeks of ongoing teasing, you can't keep it together any longer.

tooru, who's basically always ready to tease and annoy you, can't help but look at you with big eyes and parted lips when you come to stand in front of his door at three in the morning. tear stained cheeks, pouty lips, soft sobs and thighs tightly pressed together– a sight tooru never knew he needed this badly until now.

"p-please, 'kawa", you cry softly, your voice a mere whisper as you look up at him, "please fuck me. take my pussy, make it yours, stuff it full of your cum- i don't care, just please make the pain go away."

"does it hurt, angel girl? does your cute little cunt hurt?", oikawa whispers, taking your soft face into his big hands, the cold metal of his rings burning against your heated skin.

you start nodding hastily, sobbing even heaver when he suddenly pushes his leg in between yours, pressing his strong thigh right against your barely covered cunt.

oikawa can't stop the loud moan from escaping his throat at the feeling of your throbbing pussy, the wet spot on your little panties slowly growing in its size and before he even gets to say anything, you start grinding against him.

"i need you, 'kawa", you whisper and bury your face in the crook of his neck, inhale his heavy scent, a mixture of mint and cigarette smoke, "i'm all yours."

"say it, again, pretty girl", oikawa grunts, pushing the leaking tip of his thick cock against your throbbing clit, watching your juices dribble out of your little hole with amusement gleaming in the brown of his eyes, "i want to hear yyou say it."

you gulp harshly, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as the arousal sets your body on fire, your head spinning with such fast pace, you struggle to breathe properly.

"i'm your d-desperate little cockslut, 'kawa", you whimper, nervously wrapping your fingers around his delicate wrist in hopes of getting him to slide his fat cock into your spasming hole, "want you to fuck me stupid, just like you promised."

at the sound of oikawa's deep chuckle filling the tension-filled space of his room, you can't help but let out a choked out moan, looking at you with heavy lidded eyes.

"y-y-y-yes you are, angel baby", he teases you, pushing his lips into a fake pout as he has you look into his eyes, lining himself up with your sopping wet entrance, "and now i'm going to show you how pretty little sluts like you deserve to be fucked."

and as he slowly pushes his cock into your tight cunt, stretching your poor little hole out and basically splitting you into half to the point where the first waves of your orgasm hit when he's only halfway in, oikawa sits back and watches the way you finally cum for him and him only.

#haikyuu smut #hq!! smut #hq smut #oikawa smut #oikawa tooru smut #haikyuu x reader #💌.anons

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claynine · 3 years

Text

Kitty boy

Kenma x F!reader

cw: crossdressing (male), fingering (male reciving), pegging, bdsm

Kenma didn't look up, his head between his arms as he held himself up on his elbows. His ass getting carassed and kissed by you, he blushed as you passed your tongue over his entrance again, his hips moving on his own.

"My sweet boy..." you cooed, licking his entrance again, this time your tongue being followed by your finger "You look so cute"

When you came home that day, the last thing you expected was to enter your bedroom and find your boyfriend wearing a maid outfit, cat ears and a tail. He said "Welcome home Master..." shyly, soon, you were found in this position.

The short black skirt with white ruffles at the end was pushed away, his skinny milk legs wrapped with a black silky thigh highs. His soft skin massaged by your hand.

"M-master..." he whimpered, your finger soon joined by a second one, both looking for his sweet spot "Ah!"

"Right here?" You asked as you kissed the small of his back from over the fabric.

He blushed, his arms giving out as his face met the white sheets. Your hand thrusting in and out as the tip of your fingers hit his prostate.

"Please..." he whispered, your legs shook a little, you could never get tired of his sweet tone "Please-"

"Please what? Hm?" You teased "Tell me sweetie"

He hesitated for a second, you knew he was shy, especially when it came to ask for something but the needy in him couldn't wait any longer. His hips pushing up against your hand.

"Y-your..." he started, you waited patiently "Your cock... I, want it..."

He whimpered as he hid his face on the pillow he grabbed, his cheeks red.

"Sure honey," you placed one last kiss as you pulled away your hand and got up from the bed leaving a needy Kenma "Just wait a second"

He nodded slightly. You went to the drawer, grabbed the lube, a big strap on and his favorite tie before coming back to the bed. He looked up and over his shoulder, his cat like eyes looking at what you brought, he whined at the size of the strap.

It wasn't the biggest one you owned, you had another thicker.

"B-but, master... bigger..." he pleaded.

"We will use this one, okay?" It wasn't a question or a option.

He buried his head back on the pillow as you added lube to the strap and placed it on his entrance. The tip made its way in, and you stopped.

"Go ahead baby," you placed your hands on your hips.

He got the message. He moved his hips back slowly, letting the strap go inside him, he moaned and whimpered all the way as you looked down, watching the strap dissapear inside him until he bottomed out.

"F-full..." he took a hand and placed it on his stomach, he felt the strap bulge "Master..."

"My sweet cat boy..." you giggled and started moving.

The view was wonderful for you. His plump ass jiggled slightly as it met with your hips. His legs shaking as you fasten the pace, the sharp slapping sound filling the room as well as his moans.

"I'm gonna- master!-" he whimpered "Close-"

He came, his moan broke as he opened and closed his mouth, the pleasure almost too much for his small body to consume.

"W-wait!" Your thrusts didn't stop, "Too... much-"

"Too bad sweetie,"

You pulled out, relief filling him as you flipped him over. He moaned again as you started pounding into him again. His legs hooked on your shoulder giving you full access to his sweet spot.

Tears started forming on his eyes, drool dripping from his mouth as his hands failed to stop you. His body was on fire, another orgasm building up.

"I wanna hear these cute noises a little longer," you cooed, not slowing down as he came again and soon another orgasm built up "Cum for me Kitty"

#haikyu x reader #haikyuu!!#smut #dom reader #kenma #kenma x reader

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chocolateheart · 3 years

Text

Door number 12

Title: Door Number 12

Word count: 7937 (I know, I'm sorry)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: A noisy neighbour is bringing you a lot of emotions. What if this bubbling tension and frustration will finally find their way out?

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex (please, wrap it before you tap it), creampie, fingering, handjob, pinning to the wall, clothes tearing, biting, scratching, a lot of kissing, strong eye contact, sex noises, tension, some swearing, noisy neighbour, arguing, stealing food, property damage, I don't know, porn?

Bingo Square Filled: Neighbour AU for @spnmixedbingo

A/N: Yes, another porn. Please, don't judge me, I couldn't help it. I won't say much, that fic just sorta happened. I hope you'll like it! Enjoy babes!

A/N: As always huge huge huge THANK YOU to my dear beta, angel and Queen @winchest09 for giving this piece a look. Love you Tabbs <3 Still, mistakes are mine!

A/N: The gorgeous divider designed by incredibly talented @talesmaniac89 <3

Throwing your bag on the counter along with your keys, a deep sigh left your chest. You numbly looked around your apartment as you began to take off your jewellery. Why did this place always look like a pigsty every time you got back home? Your necklace and bracelet joined your bag when you tossed them to one side as a yawn escaped you.

This day was exhausting, to say the least. Maybe your work wasn’t that demanding but sometimes it was just tiring to the point where you wanted to cry. After shrugging your jean jacket off, your feet took you to the couch and you just collapsed down on it with a pained grunt. Your body was stiff and aching, your head was pounding from pain and as soon as you felt a pillow under it, your will to stay awake had started to fade. You knew you shouldn’t take a nap now as there was still so much left to do today, but for god's sake, it was Friday evening and you had been working for the past 5 days at top speed. An hour of rest was something you definitely deserved.

Without standing up, you lifted your hips to take off your jeans and wrapped yourself in the blanket you always kept on the couch. Relaxing your body with a deep breath, you closed your eyes, already halfway to dreamland. But as soon as you felt yourself drifting completely, a loud sound of guitar suddenly sounded in your ears, making your eyes snap open.

No, not again!

Fisting the pillow, you felt the anger growing as you knew exactly where the loud rock music was coming from; recognising the band as AC/DC. When the volume increased, you hid your head underneath the pillow, desperate to cut off your aching skull from the noise. But it didn’t work, the sound still bleeding through the cushion. It didn’t take you a minute to shoot up on straight legs and pull on your sweats while marching towards the front door.

Mumbling inappropriate words, you entered the staircase for your building and immediately went down; hearing the power of the music increasing with every step you took. You found yourself on a floor below, with your jaw and hands clenched, eyes glued to door number 12 as you approached it. Once you stood in front of it, you lifted one of your fists and hit the hard on the wood a few times, ready to murder the person on the other side. Of course he made you wait till the song ended, causing you to repeat the punching a couple of times.

When the door finally opened, you were fuming with anger, eyes shooting lightnings towards the tall man on the opposite side of the doorstep.

"I swear to god, Winchester," you hissed through gritted teeth, a loud melody almost muffling your words. "If you won't turn that down, I will physically harm you." Your threatening pulled a laugh from him which only acted as another oil drop to the fire.

"Sweetheart you can't do anything to me," he said, leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed on this broad chest. "Besides, I don't understand what your problem is." Dean shrugged as if nothing had happened, making your brows shoot up.

"You don't understand?! This music is driving me crazy!" You took a deep breath and while not breaking the strong eye contact you had with him, you started to enlighten him on what exactly was wrong. "I’ve had a terrible day, no, week actually. Everything hurts, my head is pounding and this music is shaking my walls which in turn, is not letting me sleep. So if you could be so nice and turn that off because I swear on what's holy, if I lose my goddamn mind, your name will be the first one I'm gonna mention once they ask me how I ended up in mental hospital." Words just slipped out of you in one unbreakable line and you took shuddering breath after, composing yourself.

However, the smug smirk didn’t leave your neighbour's face; he didn’t give a damn about your monologue. After you finished, he only put a hand on your shoulder and delivered his response.

"It's a Friday evening and we live in a free country. There’s no rule saying I can't listen to loud music, unless it's lights out. What's more, you're the only one who can't stand this, I don't see anyone else coming here to complain, so maybe the problem lies in you, not in me," he simply said, as he flashed you a fake, sarcastic smile and closed the door. But not before saying, "have a nice evening."

You looked up to the ceiling, asking for patience but the frustration and anger were huge. You growled, kicked Winchester's door with your socked foot and cursed, feeling pain going from your toes to the tibial bone.

On your way back to your apartment, you were mumbling out every possible, offensive name that came to your mind when you thought about that green eyed man. Your relationship had been heated ever since he moved into the building. He made your blood boil. Loud music, meetings with his friends, watching movies on full volume on his surround speakers after dark in the middle of the week, noisily cooking at midnight; even his one night stands apparently had an unfulfilled opera career.

You were having a battle with Dean, on average, twice a week. Knowing you weren’t the only one who couldn’t stand his behavior, you asked others for help, but Dean’s charm was way bigger of an opponent than you had expected. He could just use a sweet smile, say a few, flirty words with this deep voice and Ann from the end of the hall would walk on wobbly legs with stupid smile on her face for the next four days.

You couldn’t really blame her, the man was ridiculously attractive but you were looking past it. Dean was an annoying asshole and the only reason you had not yet clawed out his eyes was the fact that visiting the jail wasn’t exactly a wooing thought.

Shutting your door behind you, you leaned against it and ‘Sweet Child O’ mine’ came on. You growled once again, hit your wooden barricade with your head and looked down, trying to find calmness in your floor. Once you stopped radiating fury, knowing that the person below won't let you rest for at least two more hours, you chose the second drawer in your kitchen, searching for painkillers. If you were being made to stay up, you were gonna be productive. Swallowing two aspirin, you decided to clean the place so you could focus on college work tomorrow.

If only you could actually focus on college work.

After waking up at 8 am the next day, you opened the window on your way to the kitchen, craving coffee. It wasn’t normal for you to get up at this hour on the weekend but your finals were coming and you had way more work than you expected.

Thankfully, the weather outside was pleasant; the sun was already shining, creating morning shadows and the soft wind streamed inside your apartment, tickling your ankles as you sat at the table, eating breakfast. The smell of spring made you smile, always bringing back good memories. After the meal, you didn’t bother to change your pajamas for the actual clothes and you just took the laptop to start working on your college sheets. You were sitting with one of your legs bent, heel leaning on the chair, messy bun on your head, sipping on the second coffee while listening to the birds singing happily outside. Words were flooding out of you, making you feel certain that it wouldn’t take you long to be done with your essays. But that blissful moment was cut short when a loud rumble of a car’s engine resonated under your building, causing you to jerk in your chair and almost spill your drink.

Recognizing it straight away, you looked up, trying your best to not get angry again but as the sound of his loud engine revving l continued, you smacked the table with your palm and stood up. As you leaned on your window sill and gazed out, you spotted black, slick Chevrolet with the driver's door, trunk and hood open. Tools were scattered around the vehicle, a jean clothed leg was sticking out from the inside and you greeted your teeth, knowing who that was.

“Hey!” you yelled out, not caring if probably half of the residents could hear you. “I’m trying to study here!”

Dean peeked out and up at you, smiled and got out of the car, leaning his elbow on the hood in a nonchalant way.

“Good morning to you too,” he said and flashed you the oh-so-charming smile.

“It would be good if you didn’t interrupt it with your loud junker,” you spat back, leaning on the window frame and smiled when his face fell; he hated it when someone insulted his Baby, and you were very much aware of that. “Now, could you please lower your generic volume because I have a lot to do and you’re the last thing I want to deal with today.”

“Nobody tells you to. I’m minding my business, you go mind yours, I ain’t stopping you.” He gestured towards you with his grease covered hand.

“No, but your car is making noise that shakes all the dishes in my cabinet.”

He just shrugged and you narrowed your eyes, seeing that he didn’t care about whatever your problem was. “Then I suggest closing the window.”

After saying that, he dived inside the vehicle and seconds later you heard the strong twang of a guitar. Again. This man was very successful in making you hate rock music. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, stopping yourself from throwing a flowerpot at him; only because it was a very nice pot and you were emotionally attached to it.

“I need fresh air! I’m not gonna close the window! Turn that off!” you screamed, but he only frowned and pointed to his ear.

“Sorry sweetheart, can’t hear you!” You could see the smile dancing on his lips and you really wanted to break something on his head. “The music is too loud!”

Clenching your jaw you gave up. Another defeat, but it wasn’t the war you lost; it was just a battle and he was yet to feel your comeback. Showing him your middle finger, you closed the window and went to the bathroom, not being able to hear the soft chuckle that left him.

Maybe to an outsider, Dean’s behavior wasn’t such a big deal, but the longer he acted like that, the more annoying and tiring it was becoming. You couldn’t focus on basic activities because he was giving you a headache in various ways and for some reason, you couldn’t just talk it through with him. Every attempt at trying to get to an understanding with him, ended up with a fight.

Winchester was just a pain in the ass.

Thankfully, he vanished before noon; his car was gone and there was a blissful silence that you made the most of, and finished the majority of what you had to do.

Surrounded by papers and books, you were sitting down on your fluffy carpet, leaning back on your couch, typing away on your laptop. Glancing at your clock again, you frowned. It’s been almost 85 minutes since you ordered pizza; your stomach was rumbling, unhappy with the fact of still being empty. Finding your phone, you dialed the pizza parlor’s number once again. Standing up, you stretched your muscles and looked outside, watching the sunset sky as you waited for someone to pick up. Finally, the lady’s voice spoke to you down the line, asking you how she could help.

“Hi, I made an order from you and I still haven’t received it? It’s been over an hour,” you explained politely, scratching the back of your head.

You didn’t like situations like that; delay was understandable, but it had been way too long. However, you hated to call someone out, you never wanted to make someone’s job harder than it already was. Giving your address to the lady so she could check where your food was, you spotted the black vehicle under the building and your brows shot up. He was home and it was still quiet; it wasn’t normal.

“Miss, the system says your order was delivered and we have a confirmation of receipt.” You frowned hearing her words as what she said was impossible.

“Are you sure? There was no delivery here.”

“Yes, I’m positive. It says someone picked up the order twenty minutes ago.” Pinching your nose, you took a deep breath.

“Could you check the address precisely, please? Maybe your driver made a mistake?” you suggested being already sure someone else got your food.

“Rosenhouse Street, building 4, apartment 12,” she read and the last number made you flinch.

“Apartment 20,” you corrected her, but she denied.

“No Miss, the order was picked up by apartment 12.” And just like that the level of your anger reached three digits in a second.

“Okay, thank you so much,” you murmured and disconnected the call without a goodbye, already storming halfway across your place, getting ready to leave.

Slamming the door, you took a very well known path downstairs and you banged on number 12 as soon as you stood in front of it. Feeling the urge to punch the person who was supposed to open, you inhaled deeply, clenching your teeth. Just... keep it cool, Y/N.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” you growled the second Dean came into your view in his domestic clothes, wearing sweatpants and a hoodie.

“Whoa, what?” he tilted his head with an uncomprehending look.

“Listen,” you pointed a finger at him. “Loud noises, annoying car, your mean behavior, fine, okay. Screw it. But stealing food? That is childish. Can you go any lower?!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he said with a smile dancing on his lips. “What food?”

“My pizza,” you muttered through your teeth.

“Oh, right!” He smacked his forehead, acting like he just now understood. “Yeah, pizza was great.”

“You stole it!” you exclaimed, a little too high pitched.

“No I didn’t,” Dean stated, giving you a small, I-know-better smile.

“Yes, you did. I ordered it and you just pocketed it!” You really wanted to stamp your foot like a little girl to tick your fury.

"No sweetheart, I didn’t," he said, crossing his arms and straightening his back so he could tower over you, making you look up. "The guy came in with pizza, said he's supposed to bring it here, so I paid for it and ate it."

"Oh! Because it's normal to pay for the food you didn’t order and keep it to yourself. And stop calling me sweetheart!" You puffed out irritated, making him smirk.

"You're cute when you're angry." Your face fell and you felt your palm itching. What would he do if you slapped him?

"Dean," you warned him but he chuckled.

"No, seriously." He reached to your forehead, wanting to brush it with his finger. "You have this cute, little wrinkle in the middle-"

"Don't touch me." You smacked his hand away and pointed a warning finger straight into his face. "One more action like this and you're gonna regret it," you growled out and walked away.

"So it's threatening now, huh?!" he called after you, coming out to stand in the hall.

Before you stepped on the stairs, you turned around with such a force, that your hair flipped over one of your shoulders and you showed him your middle finger. Hearing his low laugh bouncing on the wall, you scoffed annoyed as you stomped loudly going back upstairs. You swore that if you were supposed to become a murderer one day, that this man was gonna be victim number one. This whole 'lets annoy her' process would be great fuel for you to slice that slender throat of his.

Shutting the door again, you walked into the kitchen, dived in the fridge and decided to stuff yourself with pancakes. Screw Dean and his pizza, you were not going to give him satisfaction with ordering anything else tonight.

“So, he’s a confident man,” Jo stated after you told her about Winchester’s behavior.

You came to Harvelle's to grab something for Sunday dinner; they had the most delicious menu in the whole town and no one could change your mind. You were sitting with a blonde girl at the table, outside their restaurant, sipping on some light drinks Ellen had prepared for the two of you. Ash was already working on your meal in the kitchen while Jo was taking her break so she could sit with you and listen about your neighbour under the floor. It took you way longer to describe everything and you felt kind of bad for that. You weren’t the type who whined about such things and forced friends to hear about your bullshit, but now you were desperate to get it all off your chest.

“Confident asshole,” you corrected her, “I just wish he could finally get his ass kicked, you know? I can’t live with this man! He’s an arrogant, offensive, little, annoying dickhead!” you said, crossing your arms on your chest.

After a few seconds of silence, you looked up at Jo. She was watching you, clearly trying not to smile; her lips were twitching and small dimples had already appeared. You knew her long enough to know that she was all ready to tease you about this whole situation.

“What?” you barked at her and she lifted her hands in defense.

“Nothing!” She shrugged. “Just, your relationship with him seems to have been… rough since the very beginning.”

“It is! I really wanna punch him!” Jo lifted her brows, a smile breaking on her face.

“Just punch him?” The suggestion was shining in her eyes and your shoulders fell down at the subtext.

“Jo!” she started giggling when she heard your resigned tone. “Just because I’m having a heated exchange with a hot guy doesn’t mean that I wanna fuck him!”

“Oh, so you think he’s hot?” she asked innocently, taking a sip from her glass.

“Yes, but he’s an idiot and I would never let him in my panties, come on,” you scoffed as you rolled your eyes. The last thing you would ever do was having sex with this man.

“Sure.”

And you knew Jo didn’t believe you. To be honest, if you thought about it really, really hard, you weren’t sure if you believed yourself…

The door opened and Ash came out with a smile, your food packed in a thermal box.

“There you go, girl. We do not accept any complaints,” he said, winking at you and you chuckled, taking the meal from him.

“Thanks, Ash.” He saluted you and vanished as quickly as he appeared. You glanced at your phone laying on the table and sighed seeing the time. “Okay babe, I’m gonna go. School’s calling and I bothered you enough anyway.”

“Oh stop it, you’re not bothering me, don’t be stupid,” she said smiling, and hugged you tight. “Text me when you get home.”

“Sure thing.” You winked and walked backwards, watching her disappear inside the RoadHouse.

Smiling to yourself, you turned around and crossed the street. At first your thoughts were filled with Jo who could always put you in a good mood but then they gradually transitioned into someone else.

You didn’t know if it was your overworked system or what Jo had teased you about that caused Dean to stick inside your mind, but you wanted to scream; it was like he had nested in there. Not only was he disturbing your living space, but he was now invading your mental space as well. What’s more, it wasn’t exactly hard to not think about him in a nasty way, and you hated it. The truth was that he was attractive from his fluffy hair to his toes, and more than once you had caught yourself daydreaming about his hands and mouth on you.

You couldn’t help it. The way he looked was not fair and Jo made you realise that if not for his attitude, you would have slept with him a long time ago. Thankfully, in the moments you felt weakness for him, he was doing something that pissed you off to the point where you wanted to bite his head off.

You really wanted to get even with him, you had to bounce the ball. The need to bite back was so big that you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw the paint store. The bulb in your head flickered on and a devil smile angled your lips. Maybe it was a bad idea, maybe it was childish, maybe it was crossing the line, but you had suffered enough thanks to this jerk.

Buying one can of pink chalk paint, you were muting your common sense that was currently shouting at you. As the saying goes - you only live once. He wanted a fight? You were going to fight. He started to play a strong hand? You were going to do the same. He thought playing with you like that was fun? Well, you were gonna have some fun too. Besides, he wouldn’t realise immediately that the paint would easily wash off, but seeing him panic thinking that his car had been defaced was revenge enough.

With a few last strokes of a paintbrush, you were finished. Straightening your back, you looked down at your work and smiled, satisfied with pink flowers you had drawn on the black surface. They were a nice contrast and you really liked the shape. In all honesty, it kinda burned you to paint this four wheeled beauty, but it wasn’t your fault her owner was a douchebag who deserved a lesson.

The impala was parked in her usual spot, next to the building that was mostly asleep. There were no cameras and due to the late hour, the chance of someone spotting you was small. Besides, you were just a hooded figure, no one would recognise you anyway even with the dim light from a lonely lantern. It was risky, but you were too far gone in your revenge to care. It had been done and you wished you could see Dean’s face in the morning.

Gathering your things you looked around, checking to see if there was anyone you should avoid and you got back to your apartment. After closing the door, you took off your clothes, staying only in leggings and a t-shirt, and decided to make some tea. You had this weird energy bubbling inside of you and it would be a waste to not use it on college papers. Getting comfortable on your couch you started going through materials for one of your projects.

Not expecting any visitors, you jumped slightly while hearing a rapid knocking on your door an hour later. You frowned and stood up, finishing your tea on your way to the entry. What you saw on the other side almost made you smile like an idiot. Dean was boring into you with his eyes; if looks could kill, you would surely be a beautiful corpse by now. His chest was rising and falling heavily, jaw clenched to the point his cheek was twitching and you could see the slight blush coloring on his face. He was wearing his leather jacket but was also in sweats so you assumed he was about to make a quick grocery run or something.

“What the hell?!” he growled at you before you could say a word. Ohhh, he was angry.

“What?” You shrugged innocently, ignoring the weird chill that ran down your spine after hearing the vibrations of his tone.

Dean took a deep breath, doing his best to not shout out. “I wanted to go get some beer and burgers, but guess what. Someone screwed up my car. And you know what? I think it was you.”

He pointed a finger at you, holding keys in his hand. You laughed and leaned on your doorframe, ready to confront him. Satisfaction already tickled your insides, but there was one thing that you had to admit - he was hot when he was angry.

“You really think that I have nothing better to do than mess up your car?” you asked, amused by his flaring nostrils.

"Don't you fucking dare play with me like that," he said firmly, not wanting to yell. "Do you know it's property damage? You broke a law and I can easily get you in trouble."

He was fuming with anger and you were sure that if it was possible, there would be smoke coming out of his ears. You smiled and stood your ground, finding it adorable how he thought he had anything useful against you.

"You have nothing on me. No proof that I was the one who defaced your car," you started, taking two steps to stand inches away from him. "Call the cops and I'm gonna tell them all about the nuisance, the stealing, manipulation and manifestations of aggression all coming from you.”

You stared straight into his eyes, a smart smile not leaving you even for a second; feeling confident in your words. Maybe he had a point, but you weren’t empty handed. You could get punished for what you did and so could he.

“What is your problem, Y/N?!” he asked, pinching his nose, clearly irritated with you. “You keep whining, making problems out of nothing and now painting my damn car?”

“You’re not letting me live in peace!” you raised your voice. “Your loud music, loud car, loud tv, loud you in general! I can’t sleep, I can’t study, I can’t do anything because you’re always there to disturb me!”

“Then leave!” he suggested, raising his tone as well. You were taken aback; lifting your brows you blinked a few times. Was he joking?

“Leave?! Are you kidding me now?! This is my home and just a friendly reminder, I was in here first so maybe you should back off!”

“But you’re the only one having a problem with me!” he yelled, spreading his arms, highlighting the obviousness of his argument.

“Because you’re a manipulative ass! You use your charm, this fucking smile, your shining eyes, and nice language, and the whole building is yours! Even Ian from the 4th floor and he doesn't even like people!”

“Ian is a cool guy!”

“Good!”

You took a breath and opened your mouth to say something more but no words came out. Again, you were convinced that there was no way to come to an agreement with this guy. Further arguments were pointless. Looking at him you shook your head and brushed your hair to the back. The soft smile and look you gave him next, made him frown a little.

“You know what? Fuck you,” you said simply and went to close the door, but his retort didn’t let you.

“You wish.”

Freezing, you locked your eyes with his and in a split second, something shifted in the air. The atmosphere got thick and the tension you had been building for months, now came into play, kinda taking you both by surprise. Dean felt it too, you could see his expression changing. He was trying to read you, trying to understand what was buzzing between you. A part of you wanted to explain it, to show him that you already knew it was sexual tension saying ‘hi’, but as soon as you realised that, you swallowed and forced your rational mask back on.

Shaking off the urge to take steps towards him, you scoffed and sending him one last look, you shut the door without saying anything. Taking two deep breaths, you leaned your forehead on the wooden barricade and closed your eyes.

There was no way in hell you would give in and break. He had everyone else in his fist, but not you. The only person that didn’t fall under his spell, the only one that didn’t let your craving inside take better of you. Dean was still your enemy and a pain in the ass; it was a matter of honour and dignity to stay away.

However, soft knocking made your eyes snap open. No. Darting your head from the door you looked at it, knowing who was behind it but that didn’t even register when you pulled on the door-handle. Dean was supporting his body on his arms that he had placed on both sides of your door, blocking the way. He was looking at you intensely, his breathing quicker than moments ago.

You could see the exact second he made a decision. You knew he was going to do something he shouldn’t and yet, you let him close the gap between you and crush his mouth to yours, cupping your cheeks at the same time. The force he hit you with made you take steps backwards, encouraging him to come in and turn you around so you could unconsciously close the door. His grip was firm, long fingers digging in your neck as hot lips forced yours apart. But your stubbornness caused you to push him away, breaking the connection.

The look you exchanged was a mix of emotions; hate, passion, frustration, lust, confusion, hesitation. This was something completely new for you; needing him was unfamiliar, strange, but at the same time stronger than anything you had felt before when it came to Dean. There was this quiet voice telling you that it was already too late; you tasted it and you wanted it, obviously. The other voice was louder, trying to make you aware of how messed up it's gonna be after, but somehow you didn’t want to listen. Not this time.

"Fuck it."

Saying that, you approached Dean and gripping him by the back of his neck, you pulled him down for a kiss. It was sloppy and deep, all teeth and tongues. He inhaled through his nose, bending down when your nails clawed at his skin. Grabbing you by the waist, he used a little pressure so you walked backwards. You didn’t expect to be pushed against the wall and a surprised gasp escaped you when your back hit it. Looking up at Dean, you noticed how his hungry eyes flickered over your figure and a cocky smirk formed on his face. You mirrored his expression and lifted your chin, so you could suck in his lower lip, biting on it softly. His response was immediate and fierce; he pressed his body to yours, pinning you to the wall completely, kissing you even deeper than before. The heat flooded you, making your cheeks burn and a sweat break.

You moaned and that seemed to spur him on because his hands started travelling all over your body. Doing the same, you aimed for his jacket, pushing it off his broad shoulders so it could land on the floor. The thought of finally discovering what was under his clothes took over your brain and you started to pull on his t-shirt, hazed and eager. But Dean grabbed your wrist and pinned it next to your head, not letting you undress him. You twisted and tugged, trying to break free, but he slid his fingers between yours and you instinctively clenched your palm.

“Don’t fight,” he breathed out, leaving your lips as he dropped to your neck, letting you take a much needed breath.

Leaning your head back you gave him the access to your throat where he licked and sucked, french-kissing your flesh. Your knees buckled a little when his hot lips closed on your pulse point, sending shivers down your spine as his stubble prickled you. Feeling his second hand sneaking under your shirt, you held your breath and jerked on the skin to skin contact. He wasn’t delicate; his long fingers were squeezing and digging, a firm touch making it all the more intense. Using your free hand you fisted his hair, pulling on it. Dean purred, nibbling on your flesh, making your eyes roll. It was like playing tennis, back and forth; you had an answer to each other's movements.

The hunger inside you was growing fast; you were getting more and more impatient and being caged by Dean only made you feel limited. So, naturally, you rebelled, trying to take control; with Dean it was always a competition. But your attempt only caused him to press his body more, his knee coming between your legs, making it harder for you to move. The thin material of your leggings was a weak protection to his touch and you whined when your sensitive area met his thigh. Fidgeting even more, you made him chuckle.

“Stop fighting,” he whispered into your ear as he pulled your earlobe between his teeth.

Growling, you turned your head and sunk your teeth into his neck, tasting sweet and salty. Dean hissed and backed away, looking down at you with a surprise in his eyes, brows slightly furrowed. You smiled and angled yourself to speak against his lips.

“Don’t act like you don’t like a fight, Winchester.”

The suggestion was clear and he seemed to understand. Your relationship was already a ticking bomb so why not have a little fun?

The challenging look you gave him was a last jolt and his mode switched. Before you could do anything, he kissed you firmly, letting go of you just to grab on the front of your shirt. Pulling with two hands Dean ripped the fabric in half, revealing your torso, making you smile a devil’s smile. He shook his head in disbelief that you were actually going along with it and grinning, he attacked your jaw. Scraping it with his teeth first, then kissing and going down passed your neck, to your collarbone. Bending his knees so he could reach lower and lower, he proceeded to shrug the destroyed clothing off you and focus on your breasts. Placing sloppy kisses on the curves, Dean moved his hands on your back and unclasped your bra. As soon as it was gone, he sucked in one of your nipples, causing you to arch your chest. Pulling his hair, you grabbed the back of his head, letting him know you enjoyed his work.

Every time his lips touched you, they left burning spots and you could feel yourself getting wetter. Not holding back anymore, you started to roll your hips, seeking the friction his leg could give you. Still playing with your boobs, he caught your hips and added the power to your moves, dragging a moan from you. Glancing down, you spotted the bulge in his sweatpants and realised he was still wearing too much clothes.

“Take that fucking shirt off,” you panted out, grabbing on the piece of clothing on his back.

This time he allowed you to do what you needed, lifting his arms to make your task easier and the second his chest was bare, you used your nails to leave red lines, making him grimace from pain before he kissed you. Caressing his newly exposed body, you felt firm muscles of his strong arms flexing. He wasn’t a gym type of guy, he was soft in some places but firm and strong in general, and that turned you on to the point your stomach flipped.

Suddenly, he pushed on your hips until your butt touched the wall behind you and pulled away from you, straightening himself. You looked at each other, panting and flinching in anticipation. Keeping the eye contact, Dean cupped your face, brushing his thumb over your swollen lips and slowly slid his hands down your body. You swallowed hard when he hooked his fingers behind your waistband and pulled your leggings down, crouching in front of you.

With a thumping heart you looked down at him, meeting his dark eyes watching you as he kissed your knee, your thigh, your inner thigh; his hands travelling up your legs, leaving goosebumps. You shivered when his hot breath hit your still clothed core. He placed a kiss on your damp panties, making your pussy clench and stopped. Leaning his forehead on your lower stomach, he tried to remain self-control, breathing strongly to calm himself down... and he failed. This whole situation was too much and he had wanted it for way too long to stop now.

Shooting up, he claimed your lips, driving his fingers inside your briefs at the same time. His digits went through your folds, gathering slick and found your clit, making you gasp into his mouth.

“Yeah? Right here?” he whispered and you sucked the air in through your mouth when he drew a circle, pressing harshly on your little nub.

Feeling him smiling, you clung to his neck, keeping him close when he started to make circles on your button. Moaning laughs escaped you, mixed with short breaths as you felt fire filling your veins, tickling sparks running from your clit to every nook of your system. For a moment you lost yourself in the feeling, but your brain woke up when he nudged you, rubbing his dick on your leg.

Opening your eyes, you locked them with his, tracing your palm down his chest and stomach. Somehow, you managed to turn you both around so he was by the wall. You didn’t care about teasing him through his pants so you pushed your hand inside and grabbed his hard shaft. Dean jerked and choked on his breath; the whole foreplay made him ridiculously sensitive.

You smiled satisfied and began to pump him, making his head fall back on the wall. His exposed neck was shining with sweat, throat moving as he swallowed hard. Your biting kink was begging for you to bite him, but the view was too good to not watch. His breathing quickened along with your strokes, his jaw flexing when he opened his mouth to chug. A thick vein popped out on the side of his neck, a guttural whine coming from him when you rubbed your thumb on his tip. Finally, you gave in and closed your lips on his jaw, light stubble pricking your lips. Dean turned his head and palming yours he brought you in for a kiss but you broke it fast, having enough.

"Come on," you said, taking his hand and leading him to your bedroom.

Not being able to stay away from each other, you stumbled towards the room, kissing and laughing, getting rid of the rest of the clothes on your way. Hitting the bed you let yourself fall on it, pulling Dean behind you. He hovered above you, using his tongue to play with your nipples as you both climbed up to the headboard. Adjusting the pillows beneath you, you felt his body pressing down, arms sneaking under yours as he kissed you deeply. Rolling his hips, he drove his cock between your folds, poking your clit and you automatically lifted your lower body up on your heels, feeling the electricity running through you. Dean bit down on your lip and pulled on it hard with his teeth, smiling when you hissed.

Without thinking much you just reached between your bodies and guided his cock to your entrance, making him freeze. The look he gave you was a mashup of a question and disbelief, and all it took was your evil smirk. You felt him fisting the sheets under you and with one, mild thrust he slid inside of you. Arching your back you inhaled, digging your fingers into his shoulders. He was stretching you; your walls fluttered around him when he bottomed out, making the two of you give silent moans, your voices stuck in your throats from intensity.

Watching you, he began to move, making you both more and more comfortable with the feeling. Gradually, his pace increased and so did the noises. Your breathy moans and growls filled the room, mixing with the sound of skin slapping on skin as Dean's hips waved between your thighs, faster and faster. New layers of sweat covered your bodies as the temperature increased; you felt the omnipresent, pleasurable burning.

Dean kept the rhythm, only stopping for just for a moment to kiss you. Not letting the opportunity pass, you pushed on him and flipped over so you were on top. Looking at you with a smirk, he palmed your asscheeks as you sinked down on him, continuing the activity.

The passion and sensuality made your head spin; Dean’s lustful eyes devouring you alive weren’t helping. You dragged your nails on his flesh again, making him hiss between the sounds. It wasn’t easy to breathe, to think or control yourself; your body started working by itself, speeding up, making you bounce on him while leaning your hands on his chest for support. Dean couldn’t decide where to touch, what part of you he should grab next; his hands were everywhere. Wrapping his fingers around the back of your neck he sat up, changing the angle and gave you this eye-rolling kiss. This asshole knew what he was doing.

A new position allowed you to only roll your hips and you laid back, grabbing Dean’s ankle to make your moves more fluent. He took a handful of your ass, helping you, watching himself sliding in and out of you, growling in pleasure. Tangled together you moved in sync, matching the other’s moves, grinding to empower the sensation. Feeling the coil tightening in your stomach, your head hung back and you exhaled, wailing quietly. A hand flattened on your back and Dean violently pulled you up, pressing your forehead to his. With closed eyes, panting against each other's mouth you chased both of your deliriums. Your pussy fluttered, your nails dug into his neck as you clasped it; the feeling started to overwhelm. The way Dean was moaning and clinging to you made it clear that he felt the same.

Your strength was fading and you found yourself slowing down. Dean’s attempts to continue were in vain as he was becoming weak too, exhaustion and his upcoming release taking over him.

“Y/N,” he warned you and you opened your eyes, looking at him when he reached between you. “I’m gonna-” you kissed him, cutting him off, tugging on his lip with your teeth.

“Stay inside,” you whispered, watching the surprise flash through his features.

The serious, assuring look on your face made his eyes roll back and the noise he made, clamped your stomach. Using your last strands of your power, you sped up, Dean joining you by hitting the right spot inside you. His fingers found your clit again, rubbing on it fast and you moaned loudly, feeling your muscles tightening.

A few more strokes, a few more moves and the crushing wave of pleasure hit you; your inner walls pulsated, squeezing Dean’s cock as you grabbed firmly on his neck, holding on for dear life. His thrusts went more erratic but also were more powerful; he was pounding inside you slow but hard, putting his forehead between your breasts. You were shaking and his breath fanning over your tummy only added more goosebumps.

Then you felt his arms wrapping around you and he hugged you tight. Pulling you close, Dean thrusted for the last time and with a low, throaty groan he stilled; his cock throbbing inside you, allowing you to milk him as you were still coming. The two of you were shivering, entwined in each other, panting and sweaty. Your heart was hammering and you could feel Dean’s galloping as well.

After calming down a bit, he let go of you and fell back on the bed, hitting the pillows with a sigh. Licking your lips, you looked down at him and smiled, seeing his eyes sparkling with joy and bliss. He laughed, caressing your thighs and then pulled you down for a kiss. It was sweet and soft, without tongue, just lips brushing yours; completely different then those earlier.

Oh, so he could be gentle too.

Cupping his face, you pecked his mouth a few times and then rolled off of him, standing up to make a quick run to your bathroom to clean yourself, leaving the door open.

"Hey!" you heard him yelling not even two minutes later, after you splashed your face with cold water. "Is it weird that I wanna cuddle?!"

You smiled on his words, shaking your head. Asshole also appeared to be a softie cuddler. Can this evening be any weirder?

"Yes!" you yelled back, laughing as you put down the cloth you were using to dry yourself.

"Cool!" he announced and then changed his tone, "I don't care."

Chuckling, you turned the light off on your way out and grabbed a random, oversized t-shirt from your drawer to put it on, letting it slip from one of your shoulders. Dean was making himself comfy in your bed, watching you carefully with his arm under his head and a stupid grin on his face.

"What?" you asked as you climbed on the bed, joining him under the covers.

"Nothing," he shrugged and shifted so you could fit in, resting your head on his chest.

Throwing your arm over his middle, you hugged him as his fingers came to trace the skin on your shoulder. A comfortable silence fell over you as you cuddled, enjoying the warmth, but you knew his mind was running, just like yours.

You didn’t like this tendency of yours to overthink, but the current situation was not only unexpected but also confusing. What now? Lovers? Relationship? Friends with benefits? Enemies with benefits? Because, you had to stay honest, if he did something that would piss you off, no matter how good he was in bed, you would still punch his perfect nose.

"I'm sorry." His words surprised you, detaching you from your thoughts. "For being a noisy neighbour."

You could hear the genuine guilt in his voice and that immediately made you feel like a bitch, so you said the first thing that came to your mind.

"I'm sorry for screwing up your car," you mumbled and quickly regretted it.

"Ha! So it was you!" His victory voice made your eyes roll and you poked his side, annoyed by the fact he dragged a confession from you so easily.

"But if it makes you feel any better, the paint is made of chalk so it’ll easily wash off," you said, unable to help the silly smile that spread across your face when you saw the relieved but shocked expression that he wore.

“Well played,” he chuckled, the sound rumbling under your ear which you found oddly comforting. So you snuggled more, melting into the intimacy.

You had to look the truth straight into the eye; maybe he did infuriate you like no other but there was something else. A pull, an urge to blow off the constant steam forming between you. You wanted him and something was telling you that from now on you won't be knocking on door number 12 just to fuss about loud music.

And once Jo finds out, you wouldn’t hear the end of it.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it :) Feel free to leave some feedback. ASKs and DMs are open, don’t be afraid to message me. Every word from you is gold <3

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tootiredmotel · 3 years

Text

Electricity

Inspired by @ledzeppelinmixtape 's emoji prompt: ⛈

Read on ao3 or below / 2.3k words

It's 11pm and storming biblically when Dean and Cas's apartment goes dark.

"Great," Dean mutters under his breath. "Fan-freaking-tastic."

From somewhere else in the apartment, his roommate asks "did the power go out?"

"What do you think, sunshine?" Dean replies sarcastically.

He has a half-written essay in front of him, but he knows his old-ass computer won't last long unplugged, so he saves the document before shutting it off. He leans back in his chair, stretching for the first time in an hour and running a hand down his face. He actually needed a break from the screen, he realizes, feeling his eyes relax as he rubs them.

The steady rain and strong winds outside make an overwhelming white noise track, interrupted only by thunder that goes from faint and distant to deafening in volume. If Dean wasn't stressed out of his mind and completely exhausted right now, he might actually find this kind of nice.

"It's raining cats and mice out there," he hears Cas say, his voice now in the room.

Dean smiles, still rubbing his eyes with the backs of both his hands. "Cats and dogs, Cas."

"Right. Cats and dogs."

It’s really no use correcting him; the entire animal kingdom could be falling from the sky right now and there wouldn't be much of a difference. The winds are definitely knocking things over, and the streets will certainly be flooded come morning. Dean wonders for how long the university will cancel classes after this (if at all, the heartless bloodsuckers).

A particularly loud clap of thunder startles Dean. He drops his hands from his face and opens his eyes, expecting to see pitch black nothingness, but the room is faintly lit by the flashlight Cas is holding as he rummages through their kitchen drawers. He approaches a minute later and sets a candle down on the small table.

"Smart."

"Thank you, Dean," Cas says, sitting down opposite him. Dean smiles again, this time shaking his head.

If anyone ever asked him to mention one thing he likes about Cas, just one, he'd probably say how genuine Cas is, how he takes everything to heart and speaks from it as well. Dean said just one word, smart, a simple comment on the fact that it occurred to Cas to light a candle instead of wasting the battery of their one flashlight, and Cas genuinely thanked him for the compliment. He's just ridiculously cute in his earnestness.

Cas is trying to light the candle now, but their lighter is tricky. Despite living together in that apartment for a year and a half now Cas has never really gotten the hang of it.

"Here, let me."

Dean means to take the lighter from Cas and do it himself, he really does. That is 100% his intention as he reaches across the table. Except he sees an opportunity, and Dean Michael Winchester is nothing if not smooth.

He wraps his hand around Cas's, gently guiding his fingers until they’re placed just right, and the lighter clicks on with ease. Cas meets his eyes, smiling, and Dean can feel the slightest brush of Cas’s thumb against his hand. It’s a small gesture, but clearly deliberate, and it sends Dean’s heart into overdrive. Cas leans away, puts the lighter aside, and starts leafing through a book he brought. Dean’s heart is still racing as he watches him.

Scratch that first thing. If anyone ever asked him what’s one thing he likes about Cas? His hands. God. Neat nails, slightly calloused palms, and overall larger hands than you’d expect. Cas is an environmental science major and he wants to get a Ph.D. in botany, so of course, there’s a small garden on their fire escape. He tends to those plants every day with more gentleness and care than Dean has ever seen, and Dean loves to watch him, even though he has no idea what Cas is doing with them half the time. He just knows that not a single one of their plants have died under Cas’s care. He names them too.

His attentiveness. That’s another thing Dean might say if anyone ever asked. Cas left to visit his sister Anna last winter break. He left Dean in charge of the plants, three of which died inside the week. (For Dean’s birthday a couple of months later, Cas got him a book. How Not to Kill Your Houseplant. Dean keeps it on his nightstand.) Dean went out and bought new ones, but he knew Cas would notice the difference, and he did. He wasn’t mad at Dean though, and he appreciated the effort, and as Dean apologized profusely over and over again, Cas looked at him in the eyes oh-so-softly and told him he was forgiven.

How could Dean possibly forget? If anyone ever asked, he’d say that Cas’s eyes are one of his favorite things about him. One of his favorite things, period. Dean is absolutely mesmerized whenever Cas looks him in the eye, and the guy loves making eye contact, which means that Dean lives in a perpetual smitten daze. He has never seen that shade of blue anywhere else on this earth. Or maybe he just hasn’t been looking, content to get his fill of that blue by staring into Cas’s eyes as much as he gets to on a daily basis.

“Are you alright, Dean?”

Dean blinks himself back to reality. “Hm?”

“You seem… spaced.”

Dean is staring. He’s been staring this whole time. Shit. Crap.

“Yeah, um. Just tired.”

Mr. Smooth, everybody.

“Maybe you should go get some rest. I doubt the power will be back anytime soon.”

Castiel Milton, always looking out for you. It makes Dean melt.

“Yeah, maybe.” I wanna stay here with you, though, he thinks. Instead, because he’s pathetic, he asks “what’re you reading?”

Cas shows him the cover. How Not to Kill Your Houseplant. Dean breaks out in laughter.

“So you’re going into my room and stealing my shit now?”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t touch your Vonneguts.” Cas puts the book aside, an easy smile on his face. “Just wanted something light to pass the time.”

“You done with your homework?”

A soft yawn escapes Cas. “For now.”

“Dude, why not just go to sleep? You look exhausted.”

“Look who’s talking.”

Dean tries to deadpan him. He fails, because around Cas, it’s near impossible for him to not smile.

“Besides, I might be done but you weren’t.”

“And you wanted to keep me company.”

Cas shrugs as if to say I guess, but he does it with a knowing smile. The smile doesn’t falter as he meets Dean’s eyes, and he doesn’t look away when silence settles between them, the only sound being the stormy white noise.

Dean is sure he could drown in that blue and die happy.

Before that train of thought gets away from him again, Dean tears his gaze away and stretches. “We should really go to bed though, I’m not getting any more done tonight,” he says as he stands.

“Of course,” Cas says, but he grabs the book again.

“You not going?”

“I want to finish this chapter.”

The seriousness in his tone makes Dean smile. Again.

“Well, g’night, Cas.”

“Good night, Dean.”

Dean thinks he detects a bit of shakiness in Cas’s voice but decides that he’s probably just tired.

He gets to his room and changes into something comfortable, the first t-shirt and sweatpants he finds as he rummages in the dark. He goes to set his phone on his nightstand and crawl into bed, but in place of the book he keeps there and puts his phone on top of– the book Cas has at the moment– he finds something else.

It’s paper. It’s folded into the form of a book, like one of those youtube craft tutorials with bad music, and it's no bigger than his own palm. The cover is handwritten, and Dean immediately recognizes it as Cas's. He smiles, expecting a prank or joke of some sort, Cas knows how stressed Dean can get with the start of the semester. However, his smile falters as he reads the cover:

How to tell your best friend you’re in love with him.

With a shaky hand, Dean opens the small book. The first page is the only one with any more writing on it, and it reads:

You leave him a note and hope it’s enough.

Dean is storming out of his bedroom (no pun intended) before he knows it. He barely even feels his feet moving, too focused on the pounding in his ears and the dryness in his mouth. He doesn’t go into the living room, not yet; his feet stop at the end of the short hallway and he braces himself against the wall. The room is spinning and he can barely breathe.

“Cas?” He chokes out.

Cas puts the book back down on the table in front of him and interlocks his fingers in front of him. He doesn’t look at Dean– Cas, who makes too much eye contact – and takes a deep breath before saying “yes?”

He’s nervous.

Dean takes a step forward, still keeping one hand on the wall just in case, and holds up the note. “What is this?” he asks, because his brain is just not there with him yet.

Cas stands, still not facing Dean. “Dean, do you know what day it is?”

He’s asking this now???

“September firs–”

Oh. Oh shit.

“Cas isn’t today the–”

“The night we met. Two years ago.”

Dean feels his brain catching up now as the memory starts coming back to him. Cas helps, starting to recount that night.

“Two years ago tonight, I was leaving my night course at the university, and it was raining. Not as bad as this,” –Cas looks out the window and lightning strikes, as if on cue– “but pretty badly, and I was an inexperienced freshman without an umbrella.”

Dean remembers. He was walking Charlie to her dorm when it started drizzling, and it was pouring by the time he made it back to his car. Dean had a night shift at the gas station and was about to head there.

“Two years ago tonight,” Cas continues, “you invited me into your car to shelter me from the rain.”

Dean saw this guy running in the direction of the men’s dorms, which were on the other side of campus. He felt bad, and he had a car, so he opened the passenger door and let him in.

Turned out to be the most gorgeous guy he’d ever laid eyes on. He was a bit awkward, but he had no filter, which made him weirdly funny. He asked about the music playing in the car and listened intently to Dean's rambling. He laughed at his jokes too.

At the end of the five-minute drive, he said his name was Castiel, and Dean asked for his number and saved it as Cas with a thunderstorm emoji. Because even if he didn’t know it yet, Dean was already whipped.

“Two years ago,” Cas says, finally looking up at Dean. His eyes are wide and vulnerable and he looks terrified and Dean can barely stand it. “Two years ago tonight, I started to fall in love with you.”

Dean can’t breathe. His ears are hot and he can’t stop fidgeting with the note in his hand and he can’t breathe.

But his feet start moving again, out of their own volition. They move toward Cas.

“If you don’t feel–” Cas starts, but Dean swallows his words.

Again, Dean’s brain isn’t all there yet, and he doesn’t realize what he’s doing until he’s already in it. He’s grabbing Cas’s face, digging his fingertips into the back of his hair, and the note is forgotten on the table, and thunder rumbles not that far away. He’s darting out his tongue, begging to explore Cas’s mouth as he’s wanted to do since forever, and Cas lets him. He tastes like toothpaste and coffee and honey and Dean never wants to taste anyone else ever again.

Cas is wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist and pressing his entire body against him. It’s making Dean weak in the knees but it’s okay because Cas is almost holding him upright at this point. There’s another clap of thunder, much closer this time, and the lightning probably illuminated the apartment, but it wasn’t enough to make them part. They’re moving and grasping and exploring frantically, and Dean is afraid Cas is going to disappear, or that he’s going to wake up and this will all have been another dream. But no, it’s real, and they’re playing catchup on two years worth of desire and longing and love.

They eventually pull away, breathless and giddy. The only sounds are the rain and the wind. Dean opens his eyes first, needing to see Cas and make sure this is completely, definitely, unequivocally real. Cas is smiling and taking deep breaths, and a weight seems to be lifted off his shoulders. He opens his eyes a second later, and even in the darkness, even with just the faint candlelight, the blue in them seems to shine. And even though there's no power, it feels as if there's electricity crackling in the air around them. It might be the storm.

No. It's the moment. This moment with Cas is what feels electric.

“Come to bed?” Dean asks, feeling brave and going out on a limb. The only way Cas responds is by interlocking his hand into Dean’s and kissing him again.

And after tonight, for the rest of his life, if anyone ever asks him “what’s one thing you love about Cas?” Dean won’t be able to narrow down an answer.

He’ll just say: “Everything.”

#gen.fics #spncreatorsdaily #creativecaviar #userjennmish #userdorksinlove #userstarry #tuserari #plantdadcas #offbeattraxx #slipper007 #thisisapaige #lyntracks #deancas #destiel #college au #fic #spn #gen creates

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