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taetaespeaches · 5 years

Note

I really want read some scenario that y/n is a doctor or student at a medicine college :(( pleaaase can be with anyone

Moodboard by @la-vie-en-tae

“So that’s the part of your brain that makes your heart race when you see me?”

Jimin x MedStudent!Reader

Word count: 2.7K

a/n: Here you go sweets! Sorry it took me ages, but I hope you enjoy. Medical stuff is way over my head so I did as simple as I could think, and that one day you said you were studying the brain sooooo yeah. The brain is complicated though, damn. Oh and I chose Jimin just because.

Gibberish. A textbook full of nonsense. At least that’s how it appeared to you after hours of your day were spent reading, highlighting, scribbling notes, and trying to hold back from screaming, or crying, or both, your well-being teetering on the edge of a mental breakdown. The words on the page were no longer forming coherent sentences, but were rather just random letters pulled from a hat, stuck together, pretending to hold actual meaning.

Flicking your pen back and forth as you held it between your pointer finger and thumb, rereading the supposed sentence for the fifth time in a row, still with zero consciousness of what the fuck it said, the writing utensil suddenly soared out of your grip, slamming against the window across the room, falling somewhere behind the loveseat that sat in front of the window.

With a deep breath in, you clenched your jaw, exhaling in a loud groan.

At the sound of your vocalized stress, Jimin raised his eyebrows, looking towards the living room from where he stood in the kitchen, his fingers gripping the end of a teabag, dunking it in and out of the scolding water. Craning his head to get a better view, he just barely caught a glimpse of you, bending over the back of the loveseat, ass up in the air as your arm fished around behind the furniture.

Jimin’s lips quirked upwards into a small smirk as he discarded the tea bags, lifting both mugs, carrying them to the living room. Setting the mugs onto the coffee table, he bit his bottom lip, his eyes glued to you. “You’re such a tease,” he flirted, breaking the silence in the room, pushing his hair back as he sported a stunning smile.

Snapping your head up, you shot a glare at him, warning him you were not in the mood. Your boyfriend quickly took notice of your current mood, and with the pieces of paper scattered across the coffee table, pens and highlighters strewn across open text books, he easily gathered that the studying must have crashed and burned in the few minutes he was out of the room preparing tea. “Dear,” he pouted. “What are you doing?”

“I lost my pen,” you said plainly, no explanation. Jimin had to hold back a chuckle that threatened to surface at your cute mad expression, eyes squinted, eyebrows pulled together.

Looking past you, Jimin pointed to the loveseat. “Behind there?” He asked, confusion setting into his features. You nodded, turning back to continue looking. “How did it get back there?” Jimin curiously approached you, standing at your side, peering over the back of the sofa.

With a huff, you sat back, crossing your arms over your chest. “I threw it.” Jimin raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Not on purpose,” you clarified.

“Dear,” he held his hand out to you, waiting expectantly for you to take it. “Come on,” he gestured to his hand with a nod of his hand. Staring at him stubbornly, he sighed. “You have about five more pens over there,” he gestured to your messy study area with a nod of his head, though he kept his eyes on you. With a huff, you placed your hand in his, allowing him to gently lead you off the loveseat, only to plant himself right in the very spot you just stood. “Here, sit down,” he tugged on you, gesturing to the floor with a nod of his head.

Cocking your head at him, he smiled brightly. “Trust me, calm on,” he told you with a small giggle. Swiping your tongue along the inside of your cheek, you held back a smile, though the corners of your lips did curve upwards just the slightest bit, which did not go unnoticed by your boyfriend.

“What are you doing?” You asked suspiciously. “I don’t have time for any funny business.” The feigned scold in your voice had Jimin fake scoffing.

“Yeah you wish,” he teased, and you could hear the smile in his voice, which in turn made you smile just for a brief moment before you remembered your studies and how little you were understanding them. Sitting down, you scooted towards Jimin until your back hit the sofa, your biceps cradled by your boyfriend’s toned thighs. “So, the brain,” Jimin started, his hands soothing over your upper back and shoulders. “Tell me about it.”

You attempted to look up at your boyfriend, however, his hands positioned themselves on the sides of your head, keeping it in place. “What are you talking about?” You let out a confused giggle.

“We’re studying,” he told you. “What part of the brain is this?” As Jimin’s fingers dug into your strands and massaged your head just behind your temples, you couldn’t help the small moan of relief that left your lips.

“What do you mean?” You asked, your eyes fluttering shut at his touch.

“What part of the brain is this? What is it called?” He asked again, a small smile on his lips, his tone gentle and soothing.

You hummed at the sensation. “That’s my skull though,” you teased, leaning into the pressure his fingers were applying to the spot.

“Ok, Smartie, you know what I mean,” he giggled. “I’m trying to help, play along.”

A small breathy laugh left your lips, Jimin’s thigh nudging against your arm in protest of your defiance to humor him. “It’s the temporal lobe,” you informed him, leaning your head back against his lap.

Your boyfriend hummed in thought. “What does the temporal lobe do?” His fingers continued working in that spot for a moment as you responded.

“Auditory perception,” you groaned out.

“So sounds?” He inquired, seemingly genuinely interested as his palms flattened against your head, touching a much bigger expanse of your head.

“Perceiving sounds, where our brains detect vibrations and receive and interpret information,” you explained in a light voice, your tone showing your distraction. “But yeah, sounds.”

“See you’re so smart, you know this stuff,” Jimin said cheerily, leaning down to kiss the top of your head sweetly. Leaning back so the back of your head sat fully in his lap, your eyelids flickered open, your eyes meeting Jimin’s sparkling ones.

“Honey, it’s not that simple,” you frowned at him, “It’s not just simply anatomy, the brain is so complicated.”

Jimin’s lips spread into a smile as he spoke the words, “Believe in yourself,” in an amazingly assuring tone that had your heart skipping a beat. It wasn’t just any smile. It was the kind of smile that stunned you, opened up your heart and filled it with love and confidence. You could see the confidence he had in you, making you feel the belief in yourself that he had for you.

Believe in yourself. You could take that as simply naivety. A lack of understanding of the complexity of the material you were studying. But you knew it wasn’t Jimin being naive. He truly believed in your capabilities and your mind. Those three words were strung together in such a way to comfort you. To assure you. And the way he spoke them and continued to look at you with that smile, holding all the warmth that existed in his big heart.

You smiled up at him, not because your stress was gone, but because of him. You had him. Jimin’s smile grew even more, his eyes disappearing into crescents, shaking his head as he bent over, leaning down to place his lips on yours in a happy, toothy meeting. The kiss didn’t last long before you both couldn’t hold back your expressions of happiness, grins and laughs taking over, leaving you both to look at each other fondly before Jimin straightened his back, looking down at you. He placed his hands at the sides of your head to shift it forward, his hands traveling down the sides of your neck.

“What part of the brain is this?” He asked with a stupid grin, his finger massaging the back of your neck.

“That’s my neck,” you giggled, “It’s not part of the brain.”

“Isn’t it related to the brain?” He asked curiously.

Giggling, you nodded. “The spinal cord and the brain make up the central nervous system, yes. The spinal cord attaches to the brain stem. But it’s not part of the brain,” you giggled as Jimin shushed you.

“You knew what I meant,” he whined out with a smile that you could hear. “What does the brain stem do?”

You let out a small groan at his hands massaging along your neck. “It connects the cerebrum and the cerebellum to the spinal cord. It performs a lot of our automatics functions like breathing, wake and sleep cycles, heart rate,” you spoke as Jimin hummed along.

“Your heart rate? So that’s the part of your brain that makes your heart race when you see me?” He teased, an adorable proud giggle leaving his lips.

“Jesus Christ,” you giggled. “You’re the worst,” you told him with a fond smile.

Jimin laughed more as his hands traveled to your shoulders, gently massaging the area, trying to work out the tension. “And what part of the brain is this?” He stupidly asked as he worked your shoulders and upper back muscles.

Giggling, you shrugged him off, however he didn’t budge, his hands still working at the tension. “The shoulders aren’t part of the brain,” you grinned at his silliness.

“See,” he leaned down to your ear, leaving a kiss to the shell of it. “You know your anatomy,” he whispered, his hands traveling down to your sides, his fingers ghosting over the material of your t-shirt. “I think you can afford a little break.” You immediately shook your head in protest, however, Jimin quickly leaned over, attaching his lips to your forehead in a sweet kiss. “What part of the brain is the forehead?” He giggled against your skin as you tried to pull your head out of his grasp, only for him to leave his spot on the sofa to crawl onto you, tackling you to the floor, peppering kisses all across your face. He continued his actions even as you squealed and pushed against his chest, uncontrollable laughter rolling out of your mouth.

Caging your body between his arms, he hovered slightly above you, his breath fanning your face. Jimin’s eyes flickered to your lips just in time to catch you in a big yawn. “Sleepy, Dear?”

You widened your eyes at his question, responding with, “Who? Me? Nuh uh,” as you shook your head in protest.

“Hmm, your brain stem is telling me otherwise,” he grinned at you as you burst into laughter at his silly remark. Threading your fingers into his hair at the back of his head, you pulled him into a kiss. Breaking away for a moment, he mumbled, “Did I get that right?” against your lips.

“Shut up, you dork,” you laughed against his mouth before working your lips against his again.

Pulling away again with a stunning grin on his face, he said, “you know, because the brain stem controls sleep cyc–” you pulled him to you again, whispering a shush against his mouth. As you kissed, Jimin’s hands started traveling down your body, sneaking under the material of your baggy t-shirt, gripping onto the flesh of your newly exposed hip. “Wait, wait,” Jimin pulled away again, causing you to groan in frustration. “Are you sure you don’t want to take a nap?” Your facial expression morphed into one of disbelief at his comment.

“Jimin, you’re on top of me, and I’m making out with your face. You really want me to take a fucking nap right now?” Jimin’s eyes widened in sudden realization.

“No-no-no-no-no,” he quickly spoke, leaning down to peck your lips a few times. “I was just being considerate, I’m good with this. Actually, I even read somewhere that breaks are good for your brain. Fifteen minutes are ideal, unless of course, you feel you need longer,” he pecked your bottom lip as it curved into a smile at his lesson about breaks. “And I’m pretty sure this is all legit,” he assured you, his eyes wide and serious.

Letting out a breathy laugh at your boyfriend’s expression, you nodded. “I believe you.” Smiling, he leaned down, biting his bottom lip as his eyes scanned your face.

“You’re mine for 15 minutes,” he murmured as he attached his mouth to yours, his actions carrying more intention and heat than before. You both got carried away, Jimin’s hands moving up your abdomen, his fingers grazing across your top rib, sending shivers all along your skin. One of your hands found Jimin’s lower back while the other was connected to the side of his neck, occasionally tugging on strands of soft hair. Your opposite hand traveled from the small of his back to the waist of his lounge shorts, your fingers slipping underneath the elastic, your fingers brushing along the top curve of his ass.

Jimin placed a hand on your chin, turning it to the side as he trailed wet kisses along your neck. With your eyes shut, you dug your fingers into the strands at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to your skin. Your mouth parted in response to the sensation on your sensitive neck, eyes flickering open only to take notice of the couch that was a mere six inches from your face. Just as you let out a small moan, encouraging your boyfriend’s actions, your orbs starting to flutter shut in pleasure until something caught your eye underneath the sofa.

Squinting at the object curiously, Jimin moved towards your jaw, trailing back to your lips. Just as his mouth found yours again, you gasped in surprise. “My pen,” you said, almost in disbelief, reaching your arm underneath the loveseat as Jimin’s weight on top of yours restricted your range of motion. Jimin’s face contorted into an expression of confusion as he watched you try to reach further under the furniture.

With a groan as you stretched your arm out, a mumbled “what are you doing?” rolled off your boyfriend’s tongue, a slight annoyance in his tone.

“Ah,” you exclaimed happily. Pulling your arm out, you held your hand in front of Jimin’s face, showing him the pen. “My pen,” you smiled widely.

With his eyebrows scrunched, Jimin looked from the pen to your face, back to the pen, and back to your face. “Fifteen minutes!” He complained in frustration. “I get you for fifteen minutes, it’s been like five.”

“Ok,” you giggled, “I know, but Baby I have so much to–”

“No,” he quickly kissed you to stop you from finishing your sentence. His hand found yours as he took the pen out of your grasp. “Fuck your pen,” he said against your mouth as he threw it somewhere across the room, the sound of it smacking against the wall and dropping to the ground echoing throughout the space.

“Jimin,” you squealed as his lips attached to yours again.

“Ten more minutes,” he mumbled against your lips. Pulling away just the slightest so his face hovered just above your own, he kissed the tip of your nose sweetly. “I’m doing this for you and your brain, Dear. All because I love you. Appreciate me,” he pouted as his voice took on a whiny tone at the end of his sentence.

Rolling your eyes, you fought back a smile. “All for me and my brain huh?” You asked, raising your eyebrows in scrutiny, only for him to nod as he sported an innocent expression. “You’re not getting any enjoyment out of this at all?”

Jimin’s lips spread into an amused grin as he softly placed kisses on your lips. “None at all.”

“Mmm, you’re so selfless,” you teased between his actions.

Giggling against your lips as he deepened the kiss, he breathed out, “I know,” he confirmed as he rolled over, pulling you on top of him, making you squeal and laugh against him. “You’re so lucky to have me,” he teased.

“Ugh,” you groaned into the kiss as Jimin laughed at himself.

Taking your face between his hands, he squished your face. “I’m the best,” he cooed with a stunning, cocky grin.

“You’re the worst,” you mumbled through your squished cheeks and forced puckered lips.

“Yeah,” he kissed you. “You’ve said that,” he giggled as you both deepened the kiss, taking full advantage of the eight remaining minutes of your 15 minute break.

#jimin #jimin scenario #jimin imagine #jimin scenarios #jimin imagines #jimin drabble #jimin drabbles #jimin fluff #bts #bts imagine #bts imagines #bts scenario #bts scenarios #bts fluff #bts drabble #bts drabbles #newodds #requested

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elo-kodon · 5 years

Text

Untitled Iwaoi Short Story #1

(Part 1 here)

PART 2

“That was such a great dinner, Auntie! I’m completely stuffed, right Iwa-chan?” Oikawa exclaims happily, his voice carrying through the small house in bright, musical tones.

Iwaizumi receives a short but painful jab to his side with Oikawa’s elbow. The movement almost makes him drop the dinner plate he’s scrubbing into the soapy water. He gives Oikawa a short, annoyed look before responding. “Yes, thanks so much!” he calls out hurriedly.

“Ohh it was no trouble at all boys,” Oikawa’s aunt says, gracefully gliding down the stairs in her long, summery-red pleated skirt.

Once Iwaizumi had met Oikawa’s aunt, her sophisticated and bubbly personality was one of the first things he noticed about her. She gave the boys a warm hug, welcomed them in, and immediately turned to Iwaizumi. “Now Iwaizumi dear, let’s do away with the formalities for now. Why don’t you just call me Hisako? Goodness knows all my colleagues already do.” Hisako waved her left hand air in a quick flourish and lead the boys into her house. She showed Oikawa and Iwaizumi to their room upstairs. “I’ll leave you two to unpack for a while. I’ve got to head back downstairs to finish up dinner. Feel free to join me whenever you boys are ready to eat!”

“She’s great, isn’t she?” Oikawa threw his duffel bag onto the ground, turning back to Iwaizumi proudly, “Mom says she’s a spitfire, but I like her a lot! She’s always been there for me, ya know?”

Iwaizumi considers Oikawa’s past words as he continues to work on the last of the dinner plates. It’s no surprise that Oikawa would like her. Hisako had a lot of qualities that reminded him of his best friend. Their determined attitudes and boundless energy were practically the same. No wonder Oikawa was so excited to make the trip up here.

Hisako calls out from the other room. “If you two are about done with the dishes, would you mind meeting me in the living room in a bit? I’d love to show you a few of my designs for the show on Sunday. Tooru, you also need to hear the rundown of the itinerary so you know what to expect.”

Once the boys get done cleaning up, they join Hisako on her pink and blue floral patterned couch. It’s a cozy fit with all three of them, Hisako on the far left, Iwaizumi on the far right, and Oikawa snugly in the middle.

Tucking a loose strand her wavy black hair behind her ear, Hisako reaches down to the side of the couch, picks up a thick shiny black binder and hands it to Oikawa to open. He carefully takes the huge binder from her and opens to one of the first tabbed pages.

“So for this particular show, since it’s still only my second one, I really wanted to focus on kids’ streetwear. I’ve noticed that a lot of students like to have clothing that’s still modern and practical, but also wear things that fit to their own unique sense of style…”

They spend the next half hour pouring through the thick and colorful pages of Hisako’s designs. Oikawa listens with keen interest as his aunt talks to them about her ideas and underlying concepts with model’s outfit. It seems like with each particular outfit and pattern, Hisako has a wonderful remark or funny story to recount on each model.

“You see now why I wanted you to join me on this project Oikawa? I really need students with strong personalities, since the show’s main concept is based around stories of youth. So, this is where you come in…”

Oikawa lounges back while he listens to his aunt talk about what she has planned for his design. He loves hearing about Hisako’s stories and inspiration behind everything, but he can’t help but wonder if Iwaizumi is starting to feel a little left out. Carefully, out of the corner of his eye, he slowly and surreptitiously directs his gaze to Iwaizumi. With Hisako’s voice still in the background, he puts his hearing on autopilot for a few moments while he stares at his best friend.

Iwaizumi has his knees brought up to his chest, his hands wrapped around them as he gazes down at the sketch of Oikawa’s proposed design for the show. Oikawa’s breath hitches softly as he scans Iwaizumi’s face. There’s a fondness to the boy’s dark eyes, his lips are slightly pursed. It reminds Oikawa of how Iwaizumi used to look at him when they were children. But there’s also something else to it… With a confused realization, it dawns on him. Iwaizumi looks like he’s concentrating on something. Like he’s drinking in the design on Hisako’s drawing, trying to memorize the curve of each pencil marking, of each splotch of color on the roughly sketched pattern. Iwaizumi’s left hand reaches down to feel the small piece of fabric stapled onto the bottom right corner of the page. Oikawa catches his eye once Iwaizumi turns to pretend to look at Hisako.

Iwaizumi locks the back of his jaw once he realizes Oikawa’s caught him staring. The pair lock eyes for a second. The light brown irises of Oikawa fixate on his own, like a curious tiger pup. Iwaizumi ducks his head down towards his lap, knowing that the heat traveling up his neck and onto his cheeks are definitely noticeable. “Stupid idiot…” he thinks.

Goosebumps appear on Oikawa arms as he slowly averts his eyes. “Weird…Why did Hajime blush just now?”

Guess he’d have to tackle that question later.

———————————————————————————————————

*Saturday*

“Here you go!” Hisako sings out, beaming down at Iwaizumi and Oikawa, setting down a plate of pancakes and two tall glasses of strawberry-and-kewi smoothies in front of them. “Now, Tooru, dear, just so you know, I’m gonna be out at the office in town for the majority of this afternoon and the evening, so you’ll have to be in charge of making sure this young man,” she gestures to Iwaizumi, “gets fed a good dinner, okay? There’s a nice little market about a few miles still outside of town that you two can drive over to pick up whatever you’d like. I’d make dinner for you both but I need to stay late at the studio tonight so we can finish paperwork and make any last minute adjustments before the show tomorrow.”

Oikawa nods eagerly and salutes his aunt, “Of course Auntie, you can count on me! Can’t wait to see my outfit in person tomorrow, I bet it’ll make all the girls swoon!”

Hisako lets out a sparkling laugh, “Oh, I’m sure, Tooru.” She puts her breakfast dish in the sink, walking over to the front door to grab her sweater and her large canvas bag. “Hope you two have fun hanging out today! There’s a great beach nearby that you boys should go to if you have the time. I’ve got to run, take care now!” Iwaizumi and Oikawa hear the final few clacks of her shoes as she shuts the screen door behind her and walks down the steps of the front porch towards her car. They hear her engine start and then she’s off.

“God, you really are a putz” mutters Iwaizumi, lightly smacking the back of Tooru’s head.

“Not my fault you don’t know how to talk to women, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says as he attempts to dodge Iwazumi, but ultimately failing.

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes and gets up from his chair. He didn’t feel like bickering with Oikawa today. He was in too good of a mood, plus he really wanted to go somewhere with Oikawa to play volleyball anyways.

“Sooooo Iwa-channn what’s on the agenda for today?” Oikawa asks. He stands up from his chair and stretches out his tall torso, his arms almost touching the bottom of the fan in the kitchen.

“Wanna do a practice match somewhere?”

“Hmmm. Yes, but I also wanted to check out that beach Auntie mentioned. Not like we really have a beach back home.”

“Why don’t we do both? We can set up a court once we find a good spot.” Iwaizumi suggested.

“Ohhh a beach match? You’re on, mothman.”

Iwaizumi lets out a small, soft “Dumbass” under his breath, then quickly runs up the stairs to grab their duffels, Oikawa slowly following up after him.

———————————————————————————————————-

Oikawa’s high-pitched falsetto voice pierces Iwaizumi’s ears while he tries to keep concentrating on the winding road in front of him. He sings out another lyric of the weird country song that they happened to discover on the local radio a few minutes ago.

“Joooooooooooleeeenne, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Puh-LEASE don’t take my maaannn. Even though you totally caaannn-“ Oikawa drawls out in a feminine, old-lady voice, intentionally fucking up the lyrics.

Iwaizumi lets out another round of loud barking laughter. He forgot how genuinely funny Oikawa can be once he lets his guard down. But that usually only happens when it’s just the two of them together. He scrunches up his eyes, tears of laughter pricking at the outer edges of his eyelids. He’s laughing and smiling so much that his jaw is starting to get sore. “S-stop it you bastard, you’re gonna make me crash this damn car.”

Oikawa grins over at Iwaizumi, his eyes crinkling at the edges. He turns back forward and smiles quickly to himself. He absolutely loves Iwaizumi’s laugh. The sound never gets old. “Damn, what a stupid song. Who the fuck is Jolene??”

“I don’t-“ Iwaizumi tries to respond but is stopped by another round of laughter. “I don’t know man, but she’s got some issues apparently. I feel kind of bad for her, honestly.”

“Eh, not bad enough,” Oikawa grins. “Since when does Japan have American country stations? Is this a new fad or some shit?”

“I have no idea.”

“Oh, Iwa-chan, there’s the turn up ahead!” Oikawa says hurriedly, leaning forward in his seat.

Iwaizumi turns off the main route onto another small, dusty dirt road. As they make a couple more turns, the truck spits up dust.

“Oh wow, is this sand?” Oikawa tries to squint through the yellowish haze.

“I guess so. We must be close.”

They head around a row of trees and then make one final turn. Iwaizumi parks in one of the faded parking spots, then kills the engine. It doesn’t take too long to unpack the bed of the truck. With both duffel bags slung around Iwaizumi and Oikawa carrying the net bag, they walk down a sandy path to the beach below.

They find a good, flat area of sand and throw down their bags. Iwaizumi sets up the volleyball net while Oikawa takes off his flip flops. He unpacks the volleyballs, water bottles, and snacks.

“Hey, ‘kawa, the net’s done.”

“Lit.”

Iwaizumi throws the net bag down near the duffels and Oikawa takes a couple minutes to mark the edges of each side of the court using a stick. He squints at the line on each side, then runs over to the other side to check the dimensions.

“It’s fine, Oikawa. Let’s play already.” Iwaizumi drawls.

“Fine, fine.” Oikawa takes his sunglasses off and perches them neatly in his hair. He picks a light blue volleyball up from the ground and walks onto his side of the court. Iwaizumi’s already on his side, hands on his knees, ready for Oikawa to start. Using only one hand, Oikawa swiftly throws the ball high up in the air. “You know I’m totally gonna win this match, right?”

Iwaizumi snorts and smirks at Oikawa through the holes of the net. “Not on your life, pretty boy.”

———————————————————————————————————-

Soaring through the air over the net, the small blue volleyball heads toward Iwaizumi’s side of the court. With the quickness of a puma and the grace of a warrior, the spiky-haired male crouches down and receives the ball. The volleyball bounces back upwards, over Iwaizumi’s head and the boy looks up. He ends up timing the comedown of the ball perfectly, executing a three step approach. Calf muscles tensing, Iwaizumi swings his arms back and jumps up in the air. With a look of fierceness set in his face, eyes gleaming, his right arm whips forward and sends the ball flying straight down towards Oikawa’s side.

Oikawa dives forward and manages to keep the ball up, but only enough to the point where it flys forward underneath the net. His sunglasses fall down crookedly onto the bridge of his nose. He groans. He almost got a mouthful of sand from this last one.

Iwaizumi lets out a snicker, “What was that about beating me again?” He grins, watching Oikawa pick his lanky frame up off the sand.

Dammit. Oikawa was sure his past spike wouldn’t turn into a chance ball, but somehow Iwaizumi managed to receive and turn it into a downward attack. He watches Iwaizumi take off his shirt through the lenses of his sunglasses. Iwaizumi grabs his water bottle and takes a long drink of water, his other hand resting on his hip.

What a cocky bastard. Oikawa mentally convinces himself that he’s not taking this moment to run his eyes down the frame of Iwaizumi’s body. Nope. Definitely not taking in his wonderful, tan shoulders, and his stocky biceps, and of course that stupid lovely six pack- Wait what the hell? When did Iwa-chan get so buff?? Has he been doing extra strength training on the side or something?

“Ready to get your ass whooped again, Shittykawa?” calls out Iwaizumi.

Oikawa dusts the sand off his knees, sweat dripping down his bangs into his face. He takes a few ragged breaths. “You fuckin wish, biiiitttcchh.”

Iwaizumi is about to make a retort when he notices Oikawa’s fast panting, his chest heaving in and out to try and steady his breathing back to normal. His hair is drenched, his shirt covered in sweat. Oikawa glances down worriedly at the wrap on his knee, reminding Iwaizumi of his past injury. He hastily looks at his watch.

“On second thought, you look pretty tired, Tooru. It’s getting close to dinnertime anyways. Let’s call it a match and pack up, yeah?”

Oikawa lets out an annoyed huff but then concedes.

———————————————————————————————————–

They arrive back home, laughing about another funny joke Oikawa said when they were on the road. Iwaizumi and Oikawa tramp up the porch steps and through the screen door, both letting out relaxed sighs when the air conditioning hits them. They head towards the kitchen counter. Iwaizumi turns around and tosses his water bottle quickly to Oikawa, Oikawa wordlessly catching it in his hand.

“Take this back up to the room, then we can go to the market and get some food. I’ll make dinner tonight if you want.”

“Uh…sure Iwa-chan.” He replies, hurrying up the stairs in a daze.

He sets both he and Iwaizumi’s water bottles on top of the dresser in their room. He takes a minute for himself, grabbing a towel and running it through his locks of hair to get the sweat out. He’s about to head out of the room when his eyes naturally find their gaze to the mirror hanging on the opposite wall. He walks closer to his reflection, placing the towel around his neck.

Oikawa inspects his appearance in the mirror. Eyebrows knitted together, he turns his face to either side, looking at his cheekbones. His wide, almond shaped brown eyes. His thin lips, still nicely rounded out for a guy’s mouth. He had okay teeth, straight and not too big.

“Iwa-chan’s still prettier though,” he thought.

He shakes his head, trying to regain focus. Bounding down the stairs to meet Iwaizumi, he realizes he left his flips flops somewhere in the living room.

“Almost done Oikawa? I’m starving, we should head out now.” Iwaizumi calls from the kitchen.

“One second!” Oikawa answers. He’s slipping his toes through his sandals he found underneath the coffee table when something black and shiny catches his eye. “Auntie’s binder?”

He reaches over and slowly slides the binder towards him. He opens to a random tab and somehow manages to get to the exact design that’s supposed to be what he’s wearing for the show tomorrow. Running his fingertips over the drawing of his figure, it finally dawns on him. His eyes widen and snap up from the book. “I’ve figured it out! I know what I need to do!”

“Seriously Shittykawa let’s-,” Iwaizumi walks over and stops to see Oikawa staring at the designs, “go…”

Oikawa quickly looks up at him from his sitting position on the floor. “Oh Iwa-chan, uh-“ Iwaizumi notices his eyes flit away from him for a couple of seconds. It looks like he’s trying to come up with something to say. “Right, about dinner…uh, could you go on without me? I uh, have a stomach ache. I’ll just stay here. Pick out whatever, okay?”

His wide orbs stare up at him nervously and Iwaizumi knows he made that last part up. “Sure….if that’s what you want…” he narrows his eyes at Oikawa. He just knows the little shit’s up to something.

“It is, now please goooo Iwa-chaaann. Out, out, out!” Oikawa pushes him happily out the door, tossing his truck keys to him.

When Iwaizumi’s finally gone, Oikawa sighs heavily and looks up at the clock on the kitchen wall. It was already 5pm. He does some quick math in his head, trying to see if he has enough time to leave and come back before Iwaizumi gets back home. It would probably take Iwaizumi about 20 minutes or so to get to the market Hisako had told them about.

“There’s no way I can make it all the way into town and back without the chance of Iwa-chan knowing I was gone. Hm. Unless….yes of course! I’ll use that shortcut!”

He grabs the house keys, changes into his running shoes, and sprints out the door. Instead of running alongside the road all the way into town like he usually would, he hops a small fence and takes a shortcut through the neighbor’s small forest. He ends up running through a wide barley field, the sun beating down on him in waves and his body starting to get sweaty all over again. The leaves of the plants in the field scrape against his calves but Tooru pays it no mind. He makes his way down to a large road on the corner of town. Once he crosses one of the main roads, he’s able to slip behind the main buildings and into a suburb which he knows will lead him to where he needs to be.

He passes the last house in the long, narrow neighborhood street and makes another turn, leading to a small set of offices. He runs through the bronze double doors and takes the elevator up to the fifth floor, leaning back against the wall of the elevator to finally catch his breath. The door opens to a bright white hallway, giant black and white photos of models striking dramatic poses in different outfits line the walls. He gets to the end of the hallway and fast-walks into his aunt’s studio space. He scans the area and spots Hisako standing near her desk with two colleagues, leaning down and pointing to a areas on a printed photo with her pen.

“Oh, Oikawa dear, I’m quite surprised to see you here. Where’s your friend, Hajime?” she asks curiously.

Oikawa takes a deep breath, wringing his hands in front of him. “Yeah, about Iwa-chan… Auntie, I need you to help me out with a huge favor.”

———————————————————————————————————-

A/N: wooww wonder what happens next?? Yeah I meant to post this way earlier today since I was hella excited about it and I had already typed out the outline for this part but it ended up being pretty long lol. Anyways, thanks for reading, if you like the story so far let me know by liking and commenting on it! I’d love to hear what you think! Also stay tuned for Part 3 where we finally get to the day of the fashion show!

Also if anyone knows how to get a quick AO3 invite/account set up, let me know. I’d love to be able to post this to that site as well. Thanks so much for all your likes and support for my first ever haikyuu fic!

-Elo

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#elo speaks #my fics #iwaoi #iwaizumi #oikawa #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi hajime #short story #fanfic #fic #elotheweeb

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jandjsalmon · 6 years

Photo

American Horror Story is starting THIS WEEK! And it’s the Murder House/Coven Crossover. I’m more excited than I should be - but I’ve been gathering nostalgic fanfiction recs to share with everyone and came up with nearly 100 fic recs… in case you have nothing to do until Wednesday.

The absolutely lovely @lgbt-representation-is-beautiful made me this wonderful gif of one of my favourite scenes in Season 1. Thank you, Aries. You rock.

To start - my most favourite is Sucker Love by @tjoek-blog (7/?) which is probably forever a WIP - but it’s PERFECT and delicious and if you haven’t read it you have to.

Okay so now I have to talk about my lunchtable girls. They are quite literally some of the most talented writers in any fandom anywhere. Gorgeous human beings whom I love and pretty much everything they write is amazing and worth reading. I’m going to give you a short list of fics written by each of them - pretty much fics that I would call “Required Reading” if you are an AHS fan.

Firstly - let’s talk Lola. @bleuwrites wrote I Think You Should Know I’m Damaged (12/12 - M) which was the fic that started our friendship. She wrote Lemonworld (4/4 - M) - a canon fic where Violate ends up essentially parents to a little girl. Beat The Devil’s Tattoo (9/9 - M) which featured a grown-up Violet who comes back to the house. All I Want Is Everything (1/1 - M) - featuring Tate and a grand gesture. Rara Avis (1/1 - M) - an AU that was set before Tate shot up the school. The Ghost who Walks (7/7 - M) and Policy of Truth (1/1 - M) - both of which are amazing. And then of course Waiting Here (1/1 - M) which messed me up in the best way possible and to this day might be the saddest AHS fic I’ve ever read. Lola is a goddess. You should read her work.

My PaigeyWagey. @feelavalanche or ScarlettWoman710 (as she is also known as) is and always will be a beautiful mermaid of awesomeness. She nearly killed me with The House always Wins (1/1 - M) and Serve the Servants (1/1 - M). I think my forever favourite by her is I Will Follow You Into the Dark (1/1 - M) - and I still think of it often. Paige is also SO freaking good with post-canon fics like All We Are is All We Are (1/1 - M) and Miss The Misery (1/1 - M) and Drain Me (1/1 - MM) and the ever so dark Milk It (1/1 - M). She’s written award winning fics like Tatemae, Honne (1/1 - M) and Dive in Me (1/1 - M) - which has some of the best writing in the whole fandom - I was literally overly emotional. And of course we’d never forget the fic she co-wrote with Linds. The Curve of Her Lips (12/12 - M)

Speaking of Linds. Oh my dear @ohhyellowbird - whom I love. Talented and sharp and utterly amazing. She wrote Tabula Rasa (1/1 - M) and Something To Talk About (1/1 - M) and Monster (1/1 - M) and Color Theory (1/1 - M) and Blue Lips (1/1 - M) and my most fave Make War (1/1 - M) which was gorgeous.

And of course Gracie. @whatwouldflorencedo or GrayGlube. Gracie is gonna be famous one day. She is the angst queen. Dark and amazing. Moral Dust (1/1 - M) was my first GG fic - but all of them that followed were equally as amazing. The Antique Children Series (2 fics), The Grieving Process Series (2 AMAZING fics), Druxy (1/1 - M), Ophistographs (2/2 - M), Don’t Look Back You’re Not Going That Way (1/1 - M), Limerence (2/2 - M), Jungianism (1/1 - M), and Eleven, twelve, thirteen (1/1 - T) and of course Toska (1/1 - M). Seriously… every thing this woman writes is gold. She is going to buy and sell all of us someday. Read it all. This is just a handful of her amazing work.

And lastly dear Stella. Shootingstella wrote a TON of super fun stories but decided to leave the fandom and remove most of her work. Thankfully, I saved it all so I can read it any time I want. BUT you unlucky people can only read what she submitted for the Fic Exchanges - so you should read them just to get a taste of how talented and lovely she was. My most favourite was You Have Been Weighed (1/1 - M) but she also wrote Neptune Oyster (1/1 - M) and The Burning Man (2/2 - M). You are truly missing out on Wake and Copy Cat and Hoarders and Latex I Love Yous. It was a really wonderful time to be a fangirl.

And of course there are other stories by other amazing authors that you may have forgotten about - but you should take the opportunity to read them and enjoy them before the new season starts.

Oh, How It Burns by applythepressure (16/16 - M) Summary: Oh, how it burns. Oh, how he burns her.

Limp by pheromones (5/5 - M) Summary: “Romeo couldn’t live without his Juliet, Sid couldn’t live without his Nancy, and Tate Langdon certainly couldn’t live without his Violet Harmon.”

Mine Is Forever by aaronlisa (1/1 - M) Summary: Tate learns the hard way that promises made to ghosts and houses don’t really amount to much in the end.

About a Girl by paceyourself (10/?) Summary: Every heart has a pain. Fools hide it in their eyes while the brilliant hide it in their smile and someday you’ll realize the damage that you’ve caused. Violet/Tate, AU, 1993.

Spirit Desire by GinHermi (1/1 - M) Summary: She wants him, no questions asked. He was her desire, and the house seemed to agree. She watched him and drove him mad. But are her intentions out of pure need or are they of something outside of herself? Violet haunts Tate and he haunts her right back.

As The World Falls Down by applythepressure (3/3 - M) Summary: Are you still sad, Violet, after all this time?

Lick the Flame by Gwen Brunye (1/1 - M) Summary: Violet’s fantasy involves a blonde boy in shiny black boots…

The Darkness Claims by A Dirty Little Secret (1/1 - M) Summary: Sitting at the dining room table with her chin in her hand, Violet laments everything her mother has become. She contemplates briefly the idea of being alone once again, and the summons slips from her lips before she has a chance to reconsider.

Truth or Dare by Cheers My Dears (9/9 - M) Summary: Reading his patient file left Violet feeling confused and a little scared. Maybe playing a game will help her sort through her feelings

i think i made you up inside my head by howlsatthemoon (3/3 - M) Summary: This house is filled to the brim with ghosts, but you are the only monster. / AU. If Tate was alive and Violet was dead. Set in 2011. Three-shot.

For the Sake of the Community by Chinesebakery (1/1 - M) Summary: American Horror Story with a touch of Heathers. A sociopathic Violet story.

Skittish Figs by EvangelineG (1/1 - M) Summary: Tate and Violet contemplate her parents decision to sell the house and discuss.

Tate’s Conscience by TheDevotchka (17/17 - M) Summary: Tate hates high school. He hates his girlfriend, fake friends and his ‘promising track career’. It’s not what he wants. He wants her… the pretty, peculiar new girl. Only problem is? She can’t stand him and he can’t seem to change her mind.

We’ll find strength in pain by ChrysX (17/17 - M) Summary: 1963. Dr. Ben Harmon, after the loss of his wife, Vivien, decides to take a psychiatrist’s position in Briar Cliff. He and his daughter Violet arrive at the Asylum with the hope of a new beginning.

An Illustrated Book About Birds by Nokomis (1/1 - T) Summary: Violet adjusts to the house while coming to terms with her new knowledge about Tate. Post-1x06.

Never Let Me Go by GinHermi (11/11 - M) Summary: 1960’s AU. Choosing between duty and love is never easy. She had a choice to make no matter the scandal that would befall her. If it came between separating from him forever and breaking her duty, she would choose wisely. Heart or mind?

Coming Dead Last by Rune-Spirit (1/1 - M) Summary: When the house moves Travis to set his sights on cozying up with Violet, Tate doesn’t take too kindly to it and has to rescue her from his overzealous advances.

Free like the Birds by aaronlisa (1/1 - M) Summary: In the end, Tate will do anything to have Violet’s love.

sharpen up those dragging hooks by littlelindentree (1/1 - M) Summary: After they scare the first family out of the house, Violet begins to punish Tate.

The Box Under the Bed by emergencycaptivation (1/1 - M) Summary: Tate and Violet were childhood friends, and after years apart, they are reunited for a few memorable Valentine’s Days.

Coming Home by TheDevotchka (2/2 - M) Summary: Tate Langdon shot up his high school in 1994 and walked away from it. Now, he’s back to finish what he started.

The Finish Line by howlsatthemoon (1/1 - M) Summary: She catches him in the backyard, dozing off in the gazebo, the sunlight reflecting off his golden hair and the hint of a smile on the pink of his lips. A worn copy of a collection of Byron’s poems and plays lies forgotten across his lap, the page folded where he’d been before he drifted off. This is when she likes him best. / Moments with Violet and Tate that we missed.

And then of course there was the @ahs-exchange. I ran a fic exchange for four rounds and some of the best fic in the fandom (some mentioned above and some not mentioned) were shared there. Here are the links to the Master Lists:

Round 1 - Round 2 - Round 3 - Round 4

SOoooo the new season is upon us. I hope you get through all these stories and celebrate with me! YAY for AHS Apocalypse.

#american horror story #ahs: murder house #ahs fanfiction #tate langdon #violet harmon #violate fanfiction #violate

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fandomimangines · 6 years

Text

•Make a move•

Request: Would love a DeanxPlusSize reader!!! I'm feeling very fluffy! Maybe something along the lines of Y/N living at the bunker and tensions arise

A/N: I tweaked a couple of things. But don’t worry you’ll find some tension 👀. This is my first time posting a oneshot on the blog. I'm excited 👐🏽 and nervous 😂

Warnings: Smut ( nothing happening just some dirty talking, well it's alot 18+ talking )

One more thing thank you @sooooo-thats-a-thing for beta and giving me feedback on this beforehand I appreciated it so much! 😭4

WC: 1.5K

It wasn't that you didn't know Dean had a "thing for you." His not so subtle staring at you backside and chest gave it away.

What completely surprised.you was that it was more than a "thing". One to many drinks at a random bar one night in some small watered down town in Indiana let you know.

He had drank entirely too much. He even bought a round of beers for every in the small bar. ( courtesy of James Moore of course. The credit card he had swiftly swindled along the way.) You weren't paying any attention to him. You sat down at the other end of the bar nursing a rum and coke you ordered earlier.

You and Sam both shared a side glance at Dean. Both of you decideding with just a look at each other than it was time to get Dean back to the motel before he broke out in a bar brawl over shooting darts with some random townie.

"I'll go grab baby if you'll go grab Dean." Sam was out the door before you could protest. The last thing you wanted to do was deal with Dean, especially when he was wasted. The man had zero filter when he was like this.

You rounded the bar, fully preparing yourself to hear his drunken cries and protests of not being ready to leave the bar.

"Dean come on, Sammie went to grab baby. It's time to get you to bed." You grabbed Dean's jacket, trying to weasel his arms in the sleeves.

"Ohh I'll go to bed as long as you're coming with me." Dean smirked. Dean's drunken words had your stomach doing flips. Of course you had developed feelings for him. But watching him and his random hookups leave for his motel room every night was enough to help keep your feelings at Bay.

“You don't mean that. You won't remember half of what you just said in the morning Dean.” Navagting yourself and a very drunk Dean thru the bar you made it outside, the cool night air doing wonders for you. Your tried to not let his statement fluster you. But your mind ran raid with the idea of what it would be like to be in bed with him.

“Thank God Sammie I don't think I could keep him up a minute longer.” Dean's legs began to buckle as you walked towards the Impala. He began shouting the lyrics to “Stairway to heaven.” Causing everyone who was hanging out outside the bar to snap their head in your direction.

“Dean would you stop.” You hissed at him. You've seen him hammered before but never this lose.

“Come on sweetheart have a little fun.” Dean's voice slurred like a sailor.

“I'll have fun when your ass gets in the backseat Dean. “

“Are you going to get back there with me Sweetheart.” Dean smirked. All your gathered resolved flew off into the night air.

“God I love it when you call me by my first name… it's hot.” you couldn't take anymore of Dean's comments. Sam had a front row seat to your heated skin.

“You know how he gets Y/N instead of confronting his problems straight on. He drinks his way thru them.” Sam and you managed to wrestle Dean into the back seat. Heading back towards the motel. It was moments like these where you we're glad you had your own room on this hunt.

Dean was out cold. You could hear his snores, even with Led Zeppelin playing on the stereo.

“You know he likes you right. He would kill me if he knew I was saying this. But he's out cold.” Dean's snores grew louder as you headed back to the motel.

“Yeah Sam I know it. His eyes are always glued to my backside or my chest.” Even know in the darkness you could see Sam's face turn red at your current remark. But you didn't care if it made Sam uncomfortable. The whole situation was irritating.

“Uhh yeah.. it's uh. It's more than that Y/N. He wants to be with you. He just won't let himself find happiness.” Sam scoffed at himself. He especially knew how stubborn and plain stupid Dean could be. Especially when it came to taking care of himself.

“And in a life like this, you better grab happiness any chance you can get.”

“I'm not playing games with him Sam. I won't be another hookup or another piece of ass. If he wants me he needs to man up and tell me. Not get shit faced hammered than mutter off about my ass and how he would wants my thick thighs around his head.”

You were fuming. Why couldn't he just man up and tell you he liked you? Without having liquid courage behind his words.

“I understand your frustration Y/N. Just give him time. He'll come around and spill his guts.”

___________________________________________

Sam and you got him into the bed. Dean's snores filled the room.

“Alright Sammie you'll know where I'll be if you need me, goodnight.”

“Night Y/N.” You walked back to your room. You wanted nothing more than to take a shower and forget about the whole night.

__________________________________________

“Alright get up I know you're not that drunk.” Sam hit Dean on his legs waiting for him to roll over. He knew Dean was just acting. He saw the way his eyes were glued to your face while you worked him to the Impala earlier.

“Damn Sammy can't a guy get some sleep.”

Dean rolled over throwing a pillow at Sam's head. He dogged the pillow, picking it off the ground throwing it to the side.

“I know you heard everything she said. She's not going to wait around for to man up for ever.” Sam walked over towards the door grabbing the keys to baby.

“I'm heading back in town to get something to eat. It's now or never. Tell.her how you feel so this whole thing could be over would ya? “

Sam walked out the motel room with the door slamming shut behind him.

Dean sat there on the bed feeling foolish. He had no clue that he had caused you to feel that way. He wanted more than a hookup. He wanted to be with you, and he was going to tell you tonight.

________

You hopped out the shower, tying the towel around your body when you heard a loud knock on the door.

“Damn Dean you can't just sleep it off for one night. Now me and Sammie have to figure out where you ran off to. You thought to yourself .

You walked towards the door securing your towel around your body.

You flung the door open without even paying attention to who was there.

“Alright let me find my shoes. We'll find him in a hour tops this town isn't that big.”

You turned around when you didn't hear Sam's footsteps in the room. You snapped your neck back towards the door only to find a very sober Dean.

“Sorry about that sweetheart… uhh I'm good now. I sobered up a bit.” Dean said while he scratched the back of his neck.

He didn't know what to say. So he figured he would start with the truth.

“I got something to tell ya Y/N… I uhh… I wasn't completely wasted tonight. I only acted that way so I could find out if you had feelings for me.” The room was silent, you could probably hear a pin drop.

You've seen Dean do some wacked out shit before, but this was taking it to a new level. You had to step back and understand Dean had never been in a serious relationship aside for the one night stand that lasted two days. But this was uncharted territory for him.

He wanted to make sure you reciprocated the same feelings for him that he had for you.

“I must say Winchester you wasted a lot of time… but I get it. I wish you had just come to me and told me how you felt. But I understand when you didn't.” You grabbed Dean's hand stroking his palm.

In his own way Dean was putting his heart out on the line for you. Who were you to throw away this act at the wayside.

“I'm just glad you did now Dean.” you smiled at him. Watching him as he took a shaky breath of relief.

“So your not mad at me? I did not see this going in this direction at all. I expect you to tell me to go to hell or cuss me out. But I must say I'm pretty glad with the outcome.”

You quickly in remembered you answered the door in nothing but a towel. Dean's eyes raked over your curves as he stood in the doorway.

You had already caught him off guard once tonight, and you certainly had no problem doing it again.

“Your a lot of talk and no show Dean Winchester.” You walked past him adding a little sway to your hips. Dropping your towel looking over your shoulder. You had him exactly where you wanted him and you were loving it.

“Why don't you come in here and put some action behind your words.” You didn't have to say anymore after that. You saw a lot of action all night long.

__________________________________________

A/N: I hope y'all enjoyed this. I'm just getting started on this page and I hope to post more.

Feedback is gold but if you don't want to leave any that's cool 👐🏽! I just appreciate you reading this! 😌

___________________________________________

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this! @allykat2108

#dean x plus size reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #plus size reader #supernatural fanfiction

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fatestemptress · 6 years

Text

Paramount Remembrances - Chapter 7 - Part 1

Summary: Dean Winchester has reached a point in his life where he doesn’t have many firsts left to fulfill. Except maybe falling in love. This is the story of how he got there.

Warnings: Smut. Lots and lots of smut. Oral (male & female receiving). Dry humping. Backseat sex. Teaching/Guiding. Some Angsty Feels. 18 Plus ONLY!

Pairings: Young Dean x OFC, Dean x OFC, Dean x Reader (We finally made it! Woohoo!)

Word Count On this Chapter: 5,180

A/N: Sooooo, the Dean x Reader part kinda got away from me and I realized that I was over 8,000 words in, rambling my way to the conclusion. So, I decided to break it up. Good new is, the second part is almost finished. :) Again, thank you so much for all the likes and re-blogs. I’ve had a blast writing this and I’m glad there are those out there enjoying it. I’ve strayed away from exact canon time periods as I’m not following it as closely as some awesome writers do, however, for purposes in this chapter, this portion is set sometime in Season 7. Lisa is in Dean’s past and Sam has his soul back with no memories of his experience in Hell.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dean was thirty-one when he fell in love. And it scared him shitless.

Over the years, he’d had more sexual partners than he could count, his job never affording him the opportunity to stay in one place for any extended period of time. He never led any of them on, always left them satisfied, always making sure they both were on the same page as far as the non-status of their relationship would be.

Dean didn’t want to be labeled as a fuck ‘em and leave ‘em type but apparently those rules of the road his father had spewed out to him so long ago held some substance.

Too much tragedy followed him everywhere he went, and he found he’d rather leave ‘em than have any of the women in his life physically hurt in any way shape or form.

Cassie had been the closest he had come to the word ‘love’, and while he had been hurt so badly by her rejection, he realized when revisiting her years later, it had been too easy for him to walk away from her when she finally knew who he really was for him to believe it had been anything more than maybe a puppy love in its most pure form.

Lisa was his most recent and the last mistake he would make in believing that he could have ‘normal.’ That whole relationship had quickly gone to shit and while he had cared for her and Ben deeply, love was never a word that he uttered out loud because he had never truly felt that he could love a woman the way they deserved. Especially, when he spent his days and nights in constant fear that something could happen to her and Ben, coupled with being restless living an ‘apple pie life’. It didn’t help that he had eventually realized that she had been a poor substitute for the aching hole the temporary loss of his brother had left behind.

So, Dean had resigned himself and made himself believe that one night stands were the way to go.

Unless of course there was a woman that came along that could, surprisingly, kick his ass.

And when that happened, well, the world seemed to tilt on its axis a little bit.

Dean never thought of himself as a true masochist. A dominant? Yes. A submissive? At times. But one day when a long leg shot out and kicked him in the stomach before bending down into a sweep that dropped him onto his back with a groan….

Well…he was reminded why.

The reason people and, yes, sometimes even he, embraced pain and put it hand in hand with pleasure.

He’d gladly take another kick to his solar plexus if it meant he could look up at her and see her for the first time over and over again.

Long straight dark hair and light brown eyes looked down at him as one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen stood above him with a gun pointing at his face.

And his gut twisted in more than just pain from that well-placed kick.

“You move, you die. Now, who the fuck are you?” She said between clenched teeth.

Dean lifted up his hands in surrender, “Dean. Dean Winchester. And you might be?”

Instead of answering, she cocked the gun, “None of your damn business. Get up. Slowly.”

Dean complied, his eyes unable to stop drinking in her form. Black leather jacket over a black tank top and skin tight black jeans tucked into calf high combat boots, rolling over toned curves, her hands and eyes steady as she followed his movements with the precision of a well-practiced fighter.

She was gorgeous.

She was also still pointing the gun at his chest.

“The Winchesters have an anti-possession tattoo. Show it to me.”

He considered trying to be funny, but the way she held her gun let him know she knew how to use it, so instead he raised an eyebrow, pulled down his t-shirt from his collar and waited as her eyes roamed over the pentagram.

It was only then that she put up the gun and slipped it back into its holster at the small of her back, “Well, Winchester, looks like your reputation precedes you. Unfortunately, you swaggered your ass into what was supposed to be a trap for the werewolf in town. So, if you don’t mind, if you could just mosey your way back to wherever you came from, that’d be awesome.”

Dean pursed his lips at her blatant dismissal, “Apology accepted.” He said sarcastically.

“What the hell do I have to apologize for? Kickin’ your ass? Ain’t nobody told you to come here.”

He stepped forward, his eyebrows scrunched together in annoyance, “I’m here for the same reason you are, lady. To kill a werewolf that’s eating people’s hearts.”

“Well, I got this. So, you can go.”

And that’s how Sam found them, engaged in a screaming match over who had the biggest balls.

They had known each other for exactly fifteen minutes and already Dean hated her.

Well, he actually kind of liked her too.

When she got really angry, her eyes lightened dangerously, her voice got lower instead of higher and she poked him in the chest with her finger.

Dean wanted to break that finger so bad. He also wanted to put it in his mouth and suck at the tip until she melted underneath him.

Needless to say, the first six months of their friendship had been frustrating at best and downright tumultuous at worst.

Mostly because Dean couldn’t figure out if he wanted to smother her in her sleep or kiss her until she made that low moan in her throat that came out when she tasted something delicious.

He also had a hell of a time trying to just figure her out. The layers of who she was hidden deep underneath a gruff exterior and smart mouth leaving him dumbstruck when she gave a soft smile and kind eyes to a grieving family or when she turned into a protective mama bear and practically growled when a child was involved in any of their cases.

It didn’t help that her and Sam got along like two peas in an annoying pod from the moment they met. It had taken Sam six seconds of puppy dog eyes to get her name that day.

Y/N.

Beautiful, breathtaking, annoying Y/N.

And now?

Whenever the three of them joined up on a case, Sam and Y/N spent hours researching the shit out of them and wallowed in long silences where neither of them needed to speak to one another but they still seemed to know what the other was looking for.

Meanwhile, whenever Dean and Y/N were in the same room it was as if a fire was lit under their asses and instead of putting it out they spent their time trying to find as many leaves and dried kindling they could to keep it at its hottest temperature.

Their constant arguments could be as serious as who was going to save the world tonight or as ridiculous as what was better than sex.

Pie or Y/N’s weakness: Chocolate.

The correct answer was neither.

But they were both so stubborn they refused to come to an agreement on the subject.

And while he would fight anyone who tried to convince him that his pie obsession was uncalled for, he still managed to pick up her favorite candy bars at various rest stops, making sure to always keep a secret stash in his duffel bag if only to torture her with them as he waved the chocolaty goodness at her from the farthest corner of whatever room they happened to be in.

And when she shrugged as if she could care less before distracting him with a well thrown book, pillow or elbow and tackled him on the ground, wrenching the chocolate triumphantly out of his hands, Dean tried not to think too hard on the way his body buzzed the minute her curves made contact with him.

Or the way he stared at her as she gave him a middle finger and bit into her prize.

She was so ridiculously annoying.

And then, there was the……moments.

Moments of something palatable that rolled its way over the two of them and made Dean feel like there was almost something tethering them together, tightening with each deep breath, each sigh of frustration and each smile that he managed to get out of her.

In fact, if Dean really wanted to be honest, there was one moment that stood out more than the rest.

The three of them had been searching for a Wendigo in a forest outside of North Dakota and they had set up camp around the perimeter of where multiple attacks happened, hoping to draw it out instead of traipsing through unknown forest and getting their asses lost.

It had been unseasonably cold that night. Sam was up keeping watch wandering around the base of their camp jumping up and down to keep warm. Meanwhile, Dean and Y/N were in separate sleeping bags laying by a fire that hadn’t been enough to keep Y/N from shivering in her sleep. Dean had stayed in his sleeping bag for twenty minutes contemplating how hard she would hit him in the nuts if he decided to lie down next to her and try to help her stop shivering. The decision was made for him when she rolled onto her side and her teeth started audibly clattering and he couldn’t take it anymore.

Grabbing up his blanket and sleeping bag, he laid his sleeping bag next to hers and wrapped her body under the plaid wool of his blanket. He lay on his side against her back and after hovering his arm over her this way and that he finally said fuck it and wrapped his arm around her waist, bringing her body flush against his.

She woke up immediately and tensed and he swore he could feel her reach for her gun that she had kept next to her. But before he could say anything, he heard her take a deep breath through her nose as if sniffing the air, then she visibly relaxed into him, saying nothing.

It was ten minutes later, as his nose was in her hair and he was trying to not make it obvious that he was trying to figure out the scent of her shampoo, (Oranges? Mangos?), when she finally spoke up.

“What are you doing, Winchester?”

Dean tensed against her and tried to surreptitiously move his face out of her hair, “Trying to make sure you don’t freeze to death, what else?”

She hesitated before answering him and to his surprise moved her body even closer to his, moving until her ass was right up against his now very interested cock and burrowed even deeper under the blanket he had thrown over them. Dean let out a silent curse as he felt himself swell even more when her delectable backside rubbed against him and he tried his best to picture and name the ugliest monsters he had seen to date in an effort to get his dick to stop being an asshole.

He had finally gotten himself to relax some when he heard her clear her throat, “Thank you.” She whispered, “This…this is a lot better.”

Dean closed his eyes against the warmth that amplified in his lower belly and took a deep breath, “Yeah, well, the Wendigo aint gonna want no frozen meat, so, gotta keep his dinner warm somehow.”

Y/N let out a harrumph but didn’t move from her position against him, “Moron.”

A half smile graced his features as he felt his body settle into something he hadn’t felt in so long, if ever. Despite their current circumstances, despite the fact that they were on a hunt and could very well be dinner, he felt….safe. Warm. Content.

And before he could talk himself out of the feeling, he felt his heavy eyes finally drift closed and he fell asleep.

The next morning, found him still alive.

And hard.

Sometime during the night, he had rolled onto his back and Y/N had rolled into his chest with her arm wrapped tightly around him and her face buried in his neck. Her leg was bent and thrown over his waist, and either Y/N was deliberately trying to get him off or she was having a very good fucking dream because her hips were undulating against him slightly causing her calf to move against his very interested, throbbing cock.

Dean blinked a few times and desperately tried to hold back a groan but he was unsuccessful. Y/N’s head sleepily popped up and she looked up into his eyes. He watched as unnamable emotions flickered through the light brown depths as she stared at him, her hair adorably sticking up haphazardly, and he would have bet money she was going to kiss him. Except his asshole dick chose that moment to twitch in interest and her eyes clouded before she reared back, sat up and hit him in the chest.

“Really, Dean! We’re being hunted by a monster and yet you still can’t control yourself?”

He hid his disappointment by bringing his arms behind his head as he grinned up at her, seemingly unrepentant, “It wasn’t me rubbing all up on you, Sweetheart. If you’re gonna offer it, he’s gonna take it.”

Y/N gave him a disgusted look even as she blushed, “What the fuck ever, Dean. Aint nobody offering nothin’.”

He winked at her, “Sure, Darlin’. Keep telling yourself that.”

“UGH!”

And with that, Y/N threw the covers back and quickly made her way to Sam where he was standing at the edge of camp giving them extreme side eye.

While Dean was sure they had killed the Wendigo, the who, what and when’s of it was a blur.

Because the only thing he could focus on from that moment in time was that split second when her eyes were clear and the guards were down and he saw….something in their depths.

Something that made him both exhilarated and fucking terrified.

From that trip on, the fire that burned was slowly turning into an inferno and the tension was at an all-time high.

But they still had each other’s back. Still steadfastly protected one another in dangerous situations, taking hits when it meant they could distract would be bad guys from hitting the others; from hurting the team they had built on a precarious platform constructed from frustration, sarcasm, smirks….and that something else.

He would be damned if admitted how much he missed her when she was gone, on her own, hunting the bad guys on her terms.

But he did.

And it made him even angrier when he felt it. That something missing, gnawing at his belly and deep inside his chest.

He wouldn’t even touch the emotion he felt when he saw her name pop up on his or Sammy’s phone or the rush of elation when he saw her truck pull up beside them on whatever no name highway they agreed to meet on.

However, it was during a particularly stressful case, where they couldn’t agree if it was a God or a Djinn causing havoc that apparently Sam had finally had enough.

Enough of them and their unnecessary arguments.

Enough of the yearning dance they had perfected as they circled around one another.

“I’m soooo glad Dicky Dean is coming out to play today.” Y/N growled as she threw a pillow at his head, the movement of her arm making her breasts jiggle slightly in her tight red tank top.

Not that he noticed.

Dean ducked just in time before casually sitting back in the motel chair and taking a drink of his beer as if he didn’t have a care in the world, “Why am I a dick? ‘Cause I don’t agree with you?”

“It’s not that you don’t agree with me. It’s the way you don’t agree with me. All high and mighty with that cocky grin.”

Said grin slid across his lips and he shrugged, “I’ve been told I have a big reason to be cocky.”

“Yeah, well, people lie to spare our feelings all the time, Dean.”

“Facts don’t lie, Sweetheart.”

“For the four millionth time, don’t call me Sweetheart, you ass.”

“Sorry, Baby. I’ll try not to.”

“Dick.”

Sam stood up, “All right! Enough! You two are driving me to drink. As a matter of fact, that’s what I’m gonna go do. Go to a bar and get a drink and maybe it’ll muffle the sound of this nonsense and we can go back to actually solving this case.”

“Wait, Sam,” Y/N said as she stood up next to him and grabbed a jacket, “I’m gonna go with you. I need a drink too.”

Sam threw his hands up in the air and walked to the door, “Whatever. Let’s just go.”

Dean blew a kiss at Y/N as she gave him one more glare before sticking her tongue out him and the door closed behind them.

Childish? Yes.

But that tongue? He could imagine it doing any number of things to his body and the thought made him groan deep in his chest.

Pretty soon the silence of the room started to grate on his nerves and when he noticed himself pacing over the same space over and over he finally gave in, grabbed his jacket and headed to the bar down the block from the motel.

The music was loud but not too loud and it was fairly crowded for a weekday. There was any number of available conquests waiting for the kill but his eyes automatically gravitated to the one person who made his blood boil for so many different reasons.

She had discarded her jacket somewhere and was swaying to the current song, standing in front of the digital juke box, vodka club in hand, as she perused the other music selections. Her round ass encased in her skinny jeans had the attention of most of the bar and if she continued to shimmy it for much longer, she’d have a line of eager suitors ready to roll.

Dean’s feet started making their way over to her before he had to physically stop himself.

What was he doing? Let her annoy someone else for the night.

He made his way over to where Sam was keeping an eye on Y/N from the bar, beer in hand.

“Was wondering how long it would take you to make your way over here.” Sam said in greeting.

“I got bored.”

Sam smirked at him, “Uh huh. And I’m sure it had nothing to do with Y/N.”

Dean gave him a look of disbelief, his eyes following Sam’s stare to where Y/N was laughing with some random male stranger over who knew what, “Why would it have anything to do with that pain in the ass?”

“You guys fight like cat and dog. And the tension keeps building and building…”

Dean raised a hand at the bartender and deliberately turned his back on Y/N’s form across the room, “There’s no sexual tension, Sammy. She just makes me want to choke her out. And not in the good way.”

A sly smile slid across Sam’s face as he leaned against the bar on one elbow, “Who said anything about sexual tension, Sigmund?”

“Shut up.”

Holding his hands up in surrender, Sam shrugged, “Okay. Okay, Dean. So, then, uh, I want to ask you something.” Sam shoved his free hand in his pocket, a sheepish expression sliding over his face, “Ummm, if you’re really not interested, then, uh, you wouldn’t mind me going for it, right?”

Dean stilled as he stared at his brother’s face in shock, “You’re not serious….are you?”

Sam shrugged, “She’s hot. And she’s smart and brave and can tell your ass off as fast as she can sew you up after getting hurt.” Sam’s eyes flicked over to her, watching as she picked up a cue stick and started playing pool with the random guys she had been speaking to earlier, “And she has the nicest ass I’ve seen in a long time.”

“Sam!”

“Oh, please. Don’t start. I’ve seen you checking it out plenty of times.”

“Yeah! Cause I have eyes!”

The bartender finally made his way over to them, “What can I get ya?”

Thanking the bartender silently for the interruption so that he could gather his thoughts, Dean replied, “Whiskey. Neat. Thanks.”

The bartender nodded and made his way back to the other end of the bar as Dean took a deep breath and raised his gaze to Sam’s, “Look, things like this can get complicated, Sammy. She’s independent as hell and prefers to work alone. Making a relationship like that work would be hard.”

Sam scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, “Who said anything about a relationship?”

Dean shot Sam a confused look his own, “Huh?”

“We’re both adults, Dean. Sex doesn’t have to equate to a relationship.”

An anger that Dean wasn’t sure he understood shot through his body and he felt his jaw involuntarily clench as he turned his body toward his brothers’, “You sayin’ you just wanna bang her and act like nothing happened after?”

Sam’s eyes scrunched further, “Dean…I’m not sure what part you’re not understanding. If there’s anyone who could comprehend something like this, it’s you.”

Dean threw his hands up in frustration, “Yeah, Sam! With random chicks that know the deal and are okay with having a one night stand that’s not gonna amount to nothin’.”

Sam bit down on the inside of his mouth, his lips quirking slightly before he turned it into a frown, “And if I tell Y/N what the deal is and she’s okay with it, what’s the problem?”

With a growl, Dean tossed back the whiskey that had appeared in front of him and wiped the side of his mouth before pointing at Sam, “The problem is that she’s not just some random chick, Sam. It’s Y/N! She’s our friend and she deserves more than just some random fuck and a ‘See you around sometime.’.”

“So you do care about her?”

“Of course I fucking care about her. It’s…she’s….SHE DESERVES MORE DAMMIT!”

Sam finally let that quirk at the side of his mouth slide into a full-fledged grin as he drank the last of the beer in hand, “Then why don’t you stop being a dick and tell her how you feel already.”

Dean blinked at Sam, momentarily thrown at his change in demeanor and his mouth opened and closed like a fish as he realized just how telling his words were, “Wha-?”

Slamming the empty bottle on the bar, Sam rolled his eyes, “Get out of your perpetual hole of denial and go get the girl you’ve been in love with for months already.”

Dean stubbornly ignored Sam’s last statement, “Soooo, you don’t want to bang her?”

Letting out a scoff of disbelief, Sam rubbed at his eyes in frustration, “God, please give me strength. No, Dean. I don’t want to bang her. I would never, ever get in the way of what I’ve seen between you two.” He grabbed at Dean’s shoulder and tightened his grip forcing his brother’s eyes to his, “It’s okay to love someone, Dean. It’s okay to love her.”

Dean stilled and stared at his brother as he bit the inside of his lip, a million thoughts racing in his mind. The most prominent one being the nonononononononono that was echoing in his brain bouncing around like a pinball against the memories of all he had endured. Every moment in his too short/too long life that had changed who he was before to who he was now.

He didn’t love her.

He couldn’t love her.

He still had so much darkness in him. Guilt. Pain. And he struggled every day to put those feelings of inadequacy into a small corner of his mind until they reared their ugly head at night when it was too quiet to drown out the memories.

Everything in his world ended in tragedy and tears and so many had been hurt or died because of him.

He couldn’t risk it.

His eyes flicked over to where he saw Y/N raising her hands in victory before holding her hand out to the poor schlep in front of her. She playfully curtsied in thank you as the money was slapped into her palm with a grumble. As she smiled, she turned her gaze towards the bar and met Dean’s eyes with her own and waved the money at him with a smirk and a wink, before letting the smirk drop into a frown as the intensity of his stare seemed to burn her from across the room.

He couldn’t risk her.

Dean swallowed thickly as she gave him a concerned face. Y/N brushed off the guy currently trying his best to earn his money back and pushed her way through the crowd to them.

He could feel Sam watching him from his perch “Moment of truth, Dean. She’s making her way over here and since she’s seen you go pale as a ghost, she’s gonna wanna know why.”

Flicking his eyes everywhere but at her, he felt his heart start to pound even faster and panic quickly set in. He reached into his pocket and flung some money on the bar before making his way to the door.

“Shit! Dean! Dean, wait!”

Ignoring Sam’s calls, he opened the door to the bar and disappeared into the night.

He wouldn’t risk her.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Oh my, God! It’s a Wednesday. Why is it so fucking crowded in here?” Y/N muttered as she finally made her way to the bar where she saw Sam standing by himself, his mouth set in contemplation.

Grabbing his arm none too gently, Y/N pulled his attention to her, “Hey! Where’d Dean go?”

Sam let out a soft sigh and shrugged, “Not sure.”

Ignoring the disappointment in her chest, she pulled up the empty stool next to him and sat down, “What do you mean? He was just here and he looked like he was gonna puke. Is he okay?”

Sam let out another sigh and motioned to the bartender, “I, uh, may have said something that he wasn’t ready to hear yet.” He lowered his head to the bartender when he appeared, “Another beer and a vodka club, please.”

Y/N stared at Sam’s profile and took note of the hard clench of his jaw, “Sam, he looked physically ill. What could you have possibly said to make him react that way?”

The ridiculously tall hunter’s eyes flicked over to hers before looking away. He rubbed his hand over his face and then he suddenly shrugged and threw his hands up, “You know what? I’ll tell you because I honestly can’t take much more of this.”

“Sam?”

He placed his hands on Y/N’s shoulders and lowered his head to look into her eyes, “My brother is head over heels, madly, insanely, in love with you,” Sam squeezed her shoulders tight, “And at this point I’m convinced, he will never tell you.”

Y/N blinked up at Sam as her mouth dropped open. She let out small sounds of disbelief before she swallowed hard, shook her head and let out a loud laugh, brushing his hands off of her, “Get the fuck outta here! No, he isn’t. Sam, you’re outta your mind.” She plucked the vodka soda out of the bewildered bartenders hand before he could place it on the bar and quickly swallowed two large gulps before turning her attention back to him, her hands trembling slightly, “Did he…did he tell you that?”

Sam gave her an indulgent, gentle smile, “He didn’t have to. There’s no one in this world I know better than my brother. So that means I also know he’s drowning in a denial pool and with each day that passes, he keeps going deeper and deeper and he’s gonna drive both you and I crazy until he either drowns or runs away.”

“Soooo, he didn’t tell you this himself?”

Sam groaned and slapped himself on the forehead, “Do you two ever listen to anything other than what you want to hear?”

“This isn’t what I want to hear, Sam! Do you know how stubborn, how controlling, how much of a pain in the ass that man is?!” Y/N let out a growl, “H-he is constantly trying to tell me what to do. He’s always challenging every thought I have,” She threw back the rest of her drink; “He’s always nagging me about every move I make. Make sure to check your six, Y/N. Make sure you don’t hesitate, Y/N. Make sure you watch Sammy’s back, Y/N. Why didn’t you say you were cold, Y/N? Like, what the fuck?! When we’re in the same room it’s hard to breath as is and he just makes it so that I feel like I’m suffocating when he…when he…”

Sam let out a small laugh as he watched her struggle, “When he what?”

Y/N wiped at the side of mouth, catching a stray droplet of liquor before whispering, “When he teases me and then nudges me trying to get me to smile at him. When he waves coffee under my nose trying to get me to wake up in the mornings. When he steals the bacon on my plate because he already finished his and then he fucking winks at me and….and…” Y/N closed her eyes and swallowed deep, “When he looks at me….with those eyes of his…..”

Oh, God.

In the months that she had known him, Y/N had pushed whatever she might be feeling deep into the caverns of her heart because she knew, she fucking knew, Dean was never going to address the proverbial elephant in the room. She would watch him, watch her out of the corner of her eye and would see…she would feel this utter sense of loss coming from him.

At first, it confused her. But then the nights she was forced to share a room with them, she would hear him struggling in his sleep, whimpering as memories of pain assaulted his senses and she understood.

Dean Winchester couldn’t afford to feel anything.

Because everything that mattered was eventually taken away from him.

And Y/N understood.

So, she left it alone. And she ached. But she left it alone.

She was a proud, stubborn woman and she wasn’t going to force herself on anyone.

No matter how much she loved him.

Fuck!

Now what?

A whimper left her mouth and she banged her head on the bar top in front of her and groaned, “Why did you have to tell me that, Sam? I was just fine doggy paddling in my own damn pool.”

His large hand rested on the top of her head as he affectionately ran his hands through the strands of her hair, “No you weren’t.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Chapter 7 - Part 2

@akshi8278 @curly-haired-disaster @chook007 @scorpiongirl1 @pisces-cutie @winchesterbroys

#young dean winchester #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #dean x ofc #thesex #first time #first love #spn #supernatural #supernatural smut #smut #sam winchester #denial #angst

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toonqueen · 7 years

Text

Duckvember 10: Flirty Duck

“Ugggggh, it always makes the feathers stand on the back of my neck when he’s around,” Poe stated as he paced back and forth in the farmhouse living room. His sister and niece sat in the armchair across from where he was in quite the opposite state.

Magica sat relaxed in the chair while silently reading some form of magical history book. Her fingers didn’t even touch the pages as she used some simple magic to turn the pages as she read. Meanwhile her daughter played on the floor with blocks and a few scattered dolls. Magica didn’t even look up from the book as she spoke.

“Gladstone will let us know if he needs help,” Magica replied as she turned another page. With one of her free hands she sipped at a drink, “supposedly /the other/ is just here to talk.”

Poe made a soft grumble noise, probably his third in the last few minutes as he want to check the window again.

“Can I get a snack?” asked the bushy haired child as she paused from her playing. Magica looked up from her book at the clock to see how long it was till dinner.

“Yes but don’t make a mess. If you need help let me know,” Magica replied as she went back to her reading

Poe stayed by the window and still spied Gladstone and the lucky duck’s Negaverse version just chatting on the lawn like it was normal. Poe could tell from Gladstone’s body language that he had the same uncomfortable feeling as him, but instead just seemed to roll with it.

This time Poe did notice something new when he spied out the window. There was another person approaching the two.

The new duck didn’t seem like a threat at all. Quite the opposite of Negaverse ‘Grimstone’ in a lot of ways. While Nega-Gladstone worn a black suit like goth was going out of style, this new duck was wearing brightly colored clothes. The outfit included a way oversized baggy tie dyed sweatshirt with bright blue leggings. The shirt was so baggy it sagged down on one shoulder.

Poe watched from the window, at first skeptical. The duck had blonde wavy locks pulled back in a bun with some scattered strands as bangs framing the face. Poe’s cheeks warmed a bit embarrassed he was gawking at a stranger from afar. He looked back at the living room, glancing at his sister a moment before leaving the window.

“Uh, Gladstone might be in trouble- Ah- but not big trouble. I’ll just go and check it out. You don’t need to,” he terrible explained as he stumbled out the door.

“Poe! Augh,” Magica shifted in her seat like she was going to get up. However, didn’t move to go after him. If anything more people out there may agitate the situation more and it was best to stay put.

Poe reached the porch before he double checked his appearance in a window’s reflection. He tried to straighten out his black bangs with his hat still on before giving up on that. He tried to nonchalantly toss his hat aside to retrieve later on the porch. However the toss almost frisbee’d the hat around the corner of the house, followed by a barn cat screech and a crash noise. The dark haired duck let out a soft, “Merda.”

The sound gained the attention of the two visitors and Gladstone had to hold back facepalming. Without looking behind him he just knew it was Poe up to something.

With the most innocent face he could muster, Poe headed over towards Gladstone and the other two that were there. Grimstone stopped mid sentence in what he was saying to tilt his head curiously at the intruder. Gladstone let out a long sigh. Luckily his Negaverse version didn’t take Poe as a threat and went back to talking.

“As I was saying. My Magica sent me here to make a peace offering of sorts,” Grimstone started to explain. Even though he was trying to be peaceful his voice still had his irritated gravely tone. He gestured to a crate of jars the blonde duck was holding. They appeared to be a homemade concoction inside that had an olive green hue. Gladstone was about to open his bill to say something but was interrupted by Poe resting his elbow on his shoulder.

Poe seemed obvious to what was going on as he gave a smile to the blonde now across from him. He followed it with a wink and was about to tip his hat before he remembered he left it behind.

“So hey, you’re pretty. I mean. I’m not shallow I just noticed,” Poe stated. Gladstone tried not to groan audibly. He always tried to handle his Negaverse version very stoically so he didn’t seem intimidated by him. However that was hard to pull off with Poe seeming goofy beside him.

“Thanks dude?” the blonde replied genuinely confused by the sudden compliment. Grimstone raised and irritated eyebrow at both Poe and the companion at his side before turning his attention back to Gladstone. He began to open his bill to speak again before Poe interrupted again.

“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. Go on with what you were saying,” Poe couldn’t help but beam a smile. He did take his elbow off Gladstone’s shoulder and gave the blonde across from him another smile. Grimstone grinded his back teeth a moment before opening his bill to speak once again.

“These are elixirs for emergencies. Their main function is-“ Brimstone was once again cut off by Poe talking to the new duck with them.

“Oh hey neat. Did you make those? They look like healing elixirs. I mean potions isn’t my thing but they’re the right color and hey I mean I do know enough to tell if they are poison so uh. If you want me to double check on that later Gladdy. Right?” Poe let out at a mile a minute to the new duck. Gladstone was about to reply but Poe kept on going, “I mean, no insult to you. I don’t even know you but you don’t look like the type to poison people. Ha. Ha. It’s just old Grimy here has tried to kill us a few times so you know. Gotta be careful. My name is Poe by the way. So you make elixirs then?”

“Yeah, I’m technically a master potion maker. Until some really gnarly dudes kicked me out of training for being too good. Cuz you know how the pharmaceutical companies are now a days. Make one simple cure for the common cure and they make a hit out on you. Totally not cool.”

“Poe… remember that conversation about finesse?” Gladstone tried to get a word in edgewise as Grimstone stayed silent giving his counterpart a death glare like he blamed this all on him.

“Nope!” he responded back before addressing the blonde again, “So you’re master potion maker? That’s really neat. I couldn’t make a potion or even cook to save my life. I mean, what I do is find magical artifacts and figure out how they work OH and I can make amulets and stuff too. I just got a new dremel to help with making finer edges so you know the angle on curves can be the difference between a curse or a cure on an amulet. Ha. I can carry that for you. The crate. I can easily lift forty five pounds and I don’t even work out. Yep.”

The blonde returned a smile which Poe took as a good sign. He handed over the crate that with a few grunts Poe was able to take hold of with only a moment of struggle.

“Any. Ne. Ways. They are very strong healing potions. They’re not for scraps and cuts but for life threatening damage,” Grimstone explained all through grinding teeth, “all very hard to make. This much takes about a year to cultivate.”

“Got it. Thank you,” Gladstone replied as calmly as I could.

“Sooooo… seen any good movies lately? I could go for a good movie if you wanted to see one,” Poe said as he adjusted his hold on the crate. The sound of clinking jars was heard inside for a moment, “With me. If that’s cool. I’m Poe by the way. Sorry I didn’t catch your name. Rude of me, Sorry, and you are?”

“Well, It is Poe was well, man. It seems I’m your ‘Negaverse’ counterpart,” the blonde replied while doing the finger motions for air quotes when he said Negaverse, “I don’t like calling it a Negaverse though. It’s kinda a negative outlook. Shit sucks there man but gotta be more positive about it.”

“Ach-aheh,” the black haired Poe first started out with a choking sound in the back of his throat to hold back all the options of wrong things he could say, “So.. Ah… that’s cool. WELL I BETTER PUT THESE IN THE FRIDGE… and set myself on fire…..UMM BYE.”

Poe backed up towards the farmhouse a few steps before turning around and quickly going towards it. Magica heard the front door slam and some sliding footsteps across the kitchen floor. She assumed it was Poe coming back and still did not have any bad vibes about the meeting on the lawn.

After a moment Felicity came out of the kitchen with a messily made jelly sandwich in hand. Magica looked up from her book.

“Darling, please eat in the kitchen. We are guests here,” Magica corrected her daughter.

“I would Mamma but Uncle Poe is laying on the table. He says he’s having an unextical crisis?” Felicity answered mispronouncing what she had been told.

Magica snapped her fingers so that her book closed. She took hold of it and put it on the stand beside her seat before getting up.

“Poe! Get off the table!” she shouted into the kitchen like it was a common occurrence.

“No. Please set it on fire and let me go out like our ancestors,” Poe responded while outstretched laying his stomach on the kitchen table. While Poe had replied there was the sound of the front door opening and closing. Magica recognized Gladstone’s footfalls and was not alarmed. He came over to the kitchen doorway with Poe’s hat in hand.

“Do you know what this is about?” Magica said as she crossed her arms and leaned in the kitchen doorway. Gladstone had a rather amused look on his face despite him being annoyed at Poe’s earlier antics. He didn’t answer Magica’s question but instead spoke to Poe.

“Hey Poe! He says he’s free Thursday,” Gladstone said with a mischievous grin. There was no verbal response from Poe that he heard. However, Magica covered the sides of her head with her hands as if she was hearing something loud.

“Poe! Stop screaming internally!”

#duckvember #ducktales #poe de spell #magica de spell #gladstone gander #magicstone #duckverse

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twistedtwisty1 · 7 years

Text

Carlos x Jane - First Kiss

Sooooo I’ve seen a lot of hate against this ship and pretty much nothing in the tag. I’ve had this idea in my head since I’ve watched the movie and I decided to write a one shot. Enjoy!

Was it sad that after only a month of “dating” all Carlos could think about was kissing Jane?

It didn’t matter what they were doing, everything she did brought his attention to her lips. It sounded so childish and dumb and it confused him. Why was he thinking this way like all the time? Was it that hard for him to keep his hormones in check? Maybe it was because she was his first girlfriend ever.

He desperately wanted to talk to someone about it, to maybe get some advice or something. But who? The only people he would consider telling was Jay, Evie or Mal. But he felt like they would probably laugh and tell him to grow up… or to kiss her already; god he wanted to.

If you couldn’t already tell.

He just couldn’t muster up the courage to do so. He figured that when she was ready, she would make the first move and that hadn’t happened yet. So maybe she still wasn’t ready? Or… Was he supposed to make the first move? He’d never done this before and neither had she, so he had no fucking clue how this worked.

So here he was, staring at her from across the room as she lay on her bed with a book in her hands. This was their usual after school routine. He would come to her dorm and they would hang out for a while. They studied, talked, watched movies, took Dude for walks, played video games. It was almost like they weren’t dating. Like a platonic relationship?

But he always knew there was more than friendship between them. They would always cuddle on the bed, while watching a movie. He would start to feel his face heat up whenever her beautiful blue eyes pierced his. They held hands wherever they went (it just felt… right.)

She must have felt his gaze, because her eyes left the pages and caught his. For a second there was nothing else but her.

Nothing.

She slowly smiled. “What?”

He cleared his throat. “Nothing… You’re just-”

She arched an eyebrow. “Hmm?”

“Beautiful.” He sighed.

Her gaze softened and focused back on her book. “Thank you.”

Again, all he wanted to do was go over there and kiss her. Maybe he should? If she wasn’t ready he wouldn’t do anything. But if she was… Well, that might finally clear his head a little bit.

In that moment, his confidence boosted and his heart started to pound.

He was gonna do it.

He stood up before he could really think about it and lay on the bed beside her, on his stomach. She either hadn’t noticed (he knew how lost she could get in the books she read) or chose not to acknowledge it.

He was gonna have to improvise.

“Jane?”

She didn’t respond for a few seconds (she must have been finishing off the sentence.) She closed the book between one finger and turned her attention back to him.

“Hi.” She smiled softly and every time she did he fell even more in love with her.

She had the most beautiful smile.

He smiled back and lost his train of thought for a second. “Can… Can I try something?”

He could see the curiosity etched all over her face and she placed her book beside her; that was a sure sign he had her full attention.

How was he supposed to, you know, start it?

He moved closer until his hands brushed her shoulder. His head was above hers now and her eyes were glued to his, completely puzzled as to what he was doing.

His eyes dropped down to her lips as he moved closer; those lips he’s been wanting to taste for weeks now. She seemed to realise what he was doing, because he felt her tense up under him.

He instantly paused and brought his eyes back to hers.

All he saw was fear.

But she didn’t move away or try to stop him. She didn’t even say a word, she just stared at him, completely frozen. He waited a few more seconds to see if she would give him any indication of what she wanted.

“Is this OK?” He whispered, only a few inches away from her.

He needed to know. She was confusing and scaring him at the same time. He didn’t want to force her into anything she didn’t want to do. He would never do such a thing.

She quickly nodded, but the look of fear never left her face.

Maybe she was just nervous?

But his heart started to pound again as he realised she was OK with this.

He slowly moved forward again. He kept himself slow so – if she wanted to – she could pull away if she changed her mind.

But she never did.

His lips pressed softly against hers for a second or two and then he pulled back. He opened his eyes, wanting to see her reaction. He braced himself for the worst. But she looked nothing like she did before.

Her eyes were still closed and she now looked almost… peaceful.

He was glad to say the least.

He wanted to do it again, but even more than that, he wanted her to say something; anything.

Did she like it? Did she want him to do it again? (He secretly hoped she’d say yes to both.)

“Jane?”

She opened her eyes as soon as he spoke and offered him a shy smile.

Before he could say anything else she cautiously brought her fingers up to his face and lightly traced his jaw line.

He couldn’t put a valid reason on why that took his breath away, but it did. She was so gentle; light. After his whole life being a rough, loud, violent mess all he wanted was softness. He was sick of being pushed, hit and yelled at. There was something so refreshing and beautiful about her being so… so quiet and gentle and kind. Maybe that’s what attracted him to start with?

“Carlos?” She murmured pulling him from his thoughts.

She startled him (sometimes he got a little too deep inside his own head.) He looked down at her and he’s never felt so attracted to someone in his whole life.

How could these other douche bags not see how damn beautiful she is?

Lucky for him though.

She cupped his face and brought his lips back down to hers.

He really wasn’t expecting that.

He melted into it as she moved her lips against his, obviously experimenting what it was like. It took his breath away; everything did. Nothing was wrong in his world right now, everything was perfect. His hands came up to tangle through her hair and she kept her fingers lightly pressed against the curve of his jaw.

He had never been this close to her; not really. Cuddling was different in a way. They both would always keep their hands in relatively “safe zones” on one another. But now he was touching places that he had been scared to even go near. He now completely understood why couples did this.

He pressed his lips against hers once more and pulled back.

Her cheeks were now bright pink, he noticed

They were still only inches apart and Carlos wanted to keep it that way. After her eyes fluttered open again, they just seemed to study each other for a few seconds; really taking in what had just happened.

“That was my first kiss.” She said, biting her bottom lip.

“Mine too.” He said quietly.

He collapsed down beside her, on his back this time.

Nothing was going to be the same between them after this, he thought to himself and he looked over at Jane. He reached for her hand and entwined their fingers together.

But – he smiled to himself – that was nowhere near a bad thing.

#carlos x jane #janelos #descendants 2

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angstmongertina · 7 years

Text

25. Friend (Inktober 2017)

Not gonna lie, I’ve been waiting all week to write this one. And now that I have, I want to write more for Baehee and Minjeong. They’re sooooo cute.

Slowburn is all good and well, but they’ve gotta kiss SOMETIME, right? :D

I know that technically, Jaehee appears taller than MC in the after ending but shhhhhhh.

Obligatory disclaimer: I have never before worked in a local coffeeshop/bakery so I'm just writing what I think would be cute. Sorry if it's horribly inaccurate lol.

AO3 Link || Masterpost

Before meeting Jaehee, she’s never thought about working in a little cafe.

Honestly, before meeting Jaehee, she’s never thought about a lot of things. Never thought about how the gentle curve of a soft smile can make her pulse race, about how the warmth from an accidental brush of fingers can persist, leaving her skin tingling minutes and sometimes even hours later.

Never thought about how much having a friend, having a partner, like this can feel like both a cherished privilege and an agonizing curse.

Some days, when their eyes meet and hands linger just a little bit longer, she can’t help but wonder whether Jaehee might feel the same way, might sense the same push and pull, the same almost magnetic connection.

Jaehee calls her “pretty” sometimes now and even more often, “her partner,” offers hug and late nights in her apartment watching Zen’s musicals until they both fall asleep on the couch, but she’s not quite clear whether she’s reading too much into every passing glance, every brush of their shoulders. For so long, Jaehee had seemed lonely, working tirelessly for Jumin, but then and even now, Minjeong’s still not sure for what kind of companionship.

She wonders sometimes whether Jaehee herself knows.

The sun barely crests over the horizon when she arrives at work, but like every morning, Jaehee has already started, a cup of coffee beside her as she plans the day’s line of treats.

“Good morning.” The words leaving her mouth are more of a yawn than anything else, but Jaehee only looks up with a laugh, brushing long chestnut curls out of her face as she replies in kind.

By the time she has put her purse down and donned an apron, a fresh cup of coffee is pressed into her hand, cool, slender fingers brushing against her own, setting off sparks against her skin. “Maybe this will help?”

“Always.” She looks down into the warm eyes that smile at her and wonders whether she’s only imagining the flicker of… something that makes her heart flutter.

The next second, Jaehee’s stepped away and she draws a deep breath as she remembers to breathe. Almost mechanically, she raises the mug to her lips, hoping that the rich aroma will clear her mind.

It only partially works.

Still, she clears her throat. “What do we need to make today?”

Jaehee turns, checking the carefully maintained inventory sheets before looking back down at the papers in front of her. “There seems to be enough of the most popular pastries today. I thought we could experiment with some fall themed foods instead?”

She shrugs. “What are you looking at?”

“I have a few printed out, if you want to see…”

Before Jaehee can move, she shifts to stand behind her and read over her shoulder. “Apple bars… Pecan pie… Pumpkin cannoli?” The page bears a picture, warm golden brown crust with soft creamy filling, and that alone is almost enough to make her mouth water.

“It does look good, doesn’t it? And it doesn’t look too complicated either. I think we already have everything we need.” Jaehee turns so that they’re facing each other, eyes glinting with excitement. “Shall we?”

“Yes, let’s.” The words come out easily enough, but it takes her a few moments longer to tear herself away from where she’s standing, directly before Jaehee, not staring at the way she worries her bottom lip when she’s thinking, the pale, beautiful flush of her cheeks in the warm cafe that deepens as the seconds stretch on.

“Minjeong?”

She jerks away, nearly tripping over herself in her haste, and she suspects her face is almost as red as Jaehee’s is now. “Sorry, sorry. What do you want me to do first?”

For a moment, something inscrutable flickers across Jaehee’s face before it’s smoothed under a look of concern. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” The half-truth escapes her lips easily, dancing through the air as lightly as her fingertips do when, in spite of herself, she reaches out, brushing them lightly over Jaehee’s under the guise of reaching for the recipe. “Should I get to work on the filling?”

The only response she receives is a stunned nod and she has never been more thankful that the ricotta and puree are stored in the back room. Leaving Jaehee still frozen in place, she walks into the back before she finally allows herself to take a deep breath, pressing still-tingling fingers to her mouth. It was a foolish thing to do, an impulsive gesture that she’s beginning to fear went too far for friends. For business partners.

But then again, the sharp definition of their relationship has long been blurred, even before this endeavor ever started. Even back before the RFA party, several months earlier, there was always a spark, a hint at something more.

A sign that there is no reason to give up hope.

Squaring her shoulders, she nods at herself before gathering the relevant ingredients and returning to the front room.

Jaehee has already set to work, preparing the shells with quick elegance. Slender fingers fly over the crusts, carefully molding them into shape on a baking sheet, though she pauses to look up and smile.

“These will have to bake and cool before we can add the filling, so take your time.”

She pauses, putting down her supplies. “Do you need a hand?”

“I…” Jaehee pauses, swiping a strand of hair off of her cheek with one hand, leaving a faint streak of flour, before looking ruefully back down. “That… might be helpful, actually, if you don’t mind. At least so they can be baking before the morning rush.”

“Not at all.” She sets to work, though she has to admit that hers take considerably longer and don’t nearly have the same level of grace. Then again, she’s not entirely sure whether it’s simply lack of skill or the way she keeps finding herself captivated by the woman working beside her. It’s a wonder how Jaehee can focus so diligently on whatever task is at hand, a small smile gently curving her lips, and Minjeong finds herself distracted far more than she has any reason to be.

Still, between the two of them, they finish just in time for the trays to be put in the oven before it’s time to open the doors for breakfast, and the usual steady trickle of customers make their way through. She juggles between completing orders and preparing the filling, watching as Jaehee somehow manages to work both the coffee machine and the register without faltering and with the same, pleasant smile on her face that softens every time their hands brush and eyes meet.

She’s incredible.

Other than removing the shells from the oven, they don’t have a chance to return to their cannoli until the morning workforce dissipates, leaving the cafe almost strangely empty in its wake. She scoops the filling into a large piping bag before squirting a small amount onto her finger and licking it, ignoring the amusement and disapproval that cross Jaehee’s face in quick succession.

“Tastes good!”

“Must you?” She receives an eyeroll for her shenanigans, and shrugs before offering her the bag.

“It should be good to go, if you want to do the honors.”

Her declaration earns her a quiet laugh that somehow makes her chest squeeze before warm hands slide over and replace hers, expertly filling the first shell.

Before Jaehee can move on to the next, she’s reaching for the first, holding it out in front of Jaehee’s mouth. “Don’t you want to try it?”

For a moment, brown eyes widen in unadulterated shock and her name is so quiet she can barely hear it. “Minjeong…?”

“Come on. Take a bite.”

She briefly wonders if she’s ever seen Jaehee as red as when she takes a bite, but her eyes widen immediately in surprise. “It’s good!”

“Is it?” She pops the rest into her mouth, impressed in spite of herself. “You’re right.”

“We should finish making these and serve them—”

“Hang on.” She waits until Jaehee turns back to her, a questioning look on her face, and then laughs softly to herself. “You have some cream on your face. Here…” Keenly aware of Jaehee’s eyes on her, she reaches out, slowly brushing her thumb against her upper lip and wiping it clean, pretending she isn’t noticing how soft her lips are, or the way Jaehee’s breath hitches.

But instead of pulling away, Jaehee leans into the touch and suddenly, there’s longing in her eyes, and she can’t resist the urge to lean down.

Jaehee tastes of pumpkin and coffee and perfection.

#Jaehee Kang #Jaehee Kang/MC #Mystic Messenger #MysMes #Tina writes stuff.#Tina plays MysMes.#JAEHEE YOU MEAN BAEHEE #otp: will you be my partner?#Tina's Writer Inktober #Minjeong Park

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