#whenever im hurt my first instinct is to promise not to love anyone ever again. to close myself off.

[wormtiddies]

despite all the pain and heartbreak ive been through, i dont think i could ever stop loving. love is so engrained inside of me, i have too much. i cant not love, thats not who i am. even if im hurt again and again, i cant stop loving. and maybe theres some sort of unfortunate ironic flaw with that, that loving will cause me the most pain in life. and even when it causes me more pain than i deserve, i still have love to give. to strangers, to my dear friends and family, to my future partner. i wont stop trying, i wont stop loving.

[twicepinkmeup-imagines]

Myoui Mina ; all too well pt. 2

writer’s note : ok i wasn’t expecting to have a continuation of this but i already have a whole plot which will prolly go up to a few parts. so MINA STANS, REJOICE!!! ALSO, Jisoo from Blackpink will be making her debut in this fic bc i felt like she fit the character i had in mind the most so in this fic, Jisoo is a non-idol 😌

warning : angst (im sorry ill make it up to u soon)

tips : put on a song that you feel like would set the mood - trust me, nothing beats reading sad ass imagines with songs in the background

words : 3,318 words

PART 1

xoxo

“Are you ever going to tell me what happened with that girl you met at the coffee shop?”

Surprised by the sudden question, Y/N looked at the girl with wide eyes as she confusedly asked, “What do you mean?”

Jisoo found it cute that Y/N was trying to pretend that she didn’t know what she was talking about, but Jisoo knew that it needed to be talked about. Because the moment Y/N came back during their date after disappearing for half an hour, Jisoo just knew something big had happened and that her swollen eyes were as apparent as ever.

Chuckling amusedly, Jisoo leaned on her palm and asked, “During our date last week, you met someone who seemed like an old friend? Why’d she run out so fast?”

Now it was Y/N’s turn to chuckle awkwardly as she scratched the back of her neck before shrugging and saying, “Oh, she’s just somebody that I know a while back... And she probably ran out because she’s just naturally a shy person so..”

Jisoo gazed at Y/N, and simply just observed the girl’s facial expression before a memory hit her and she quietly pointed out, “... I heard you call her Mina,” Jisoo revealed, Y/N’s eyes saddening slightly as silence took over them before she added, “It was her, wasn’t it? The ex you always wrote about?”

With that information, Y/N furrowed her brows before quietly asking, “How’d you know? I never showed anyone-“

“You left it in your messy pile by the dining table one day,” Jisoo revealed before she quickly added, “I know I shouldn’t have... but I thought it was just one of your random writings and you know how much I love to read your stories.”

Y/N’s winced, her eyebrows down and closed together as her lips frown at the sudden revelation. She remembered every word she wrote in those stories and how intimate it was to her, let alone to another reader.

She wrote those stories in a place of pain, longing and love. Something she still has, since the day she left.

“I always envied how you wrote about her in your stories,” Jisoo chuckled sadly as she continued, “How the moles on her face was like precious stars and how whenever she danced, she was a swan who you couldn’t look away from. I saw it in your eyes whenever you wrote about her; .... I’ve never seen that side of you before.”

Looking away, Y/N simply sighed and ran her fingers through her hair before softly adding, “I wrote that a very long time ago, Jisoo-ya; I wrote that when I was still very much in love with her.”

“Can you really tell me with a 100% confidence that you’re not in love with her anymore?” Jisoo rasped out, her voice weak as she continued with, “Can you really tell me that? Because the moment she ran, you went after her without even looking back.”

Y/N instinctively shut her eyes as she took a deep breath and released a shaky one. Out of the blue, she felt a pair of hands on her thighs and when she fluttered her eyes open, she saw Jisoo kneeling in front of her with glassy eyes before she whispered, “It’s okay - I understand,” She reassured gently before continuing, “If anyone read your stories, they too would see the amount of love you have for Mina and I can’t stop that.”

“Jisoo-ya, I-“

“It’s okay, I promise,” Jisoo softly reassured before she grabbed Y/N’s hands and held them tightly before whispering, “You deserve to be happy the way you want to be, Y/N and I can’t provide that for you because deep inside, you already know who’s the only one who can.”

Jisoo then stood up before placing a kiss on Y/N’s forehead then grabbing her bag and phone right after. As she was about to walk away, Y/N grabbed her hand and stood up before she quietly said, “I’m sorry I can’t give you the same love that you gave me.”

Jisoo cupped Y/N’s face with her free hand as she smiled sadly while saying, “I’m just glad I could make you forget even for a moment... but I think we both know that it’s never going to be enough.”

“I’m sorry, Jisoo. It should never have come to this.” Y/N whispered, the feeling of guilt overwhelming her slowly, “I should’ve been honest with you from the start.”

“Don’t be sorry, it’s no one’s fault; I can’t keep lying to myself that I can make you happier than she did. I mean, sure, I can keep pretending but you’ll just never be as happy and I - I can’t do that to you.”

Placing a chaste kiss on Y/N’s cheek, Jisoo caressed her face momentarily before she whispered, “You loved her and - ... and that’s not a weakness, Y/N; that’s a virtue.”

Soon after, Jisoo gave one last sad smile before she turned around and made her way out, her last words scarring Y/N’s thoughts. Standing still, Y/N was at lost for words. Everything was changing around her and she didn’t know what to do next.

At the same time, Y/N’s phone had vibrated at the couch and that caused her to instinctively turn around. Grabbing her phone, she opened a text message.

From : Jihyo TWICE [8:33pm]

Hey, are you free to meet up?

Surprised at the sudden text, Y/N raised her brows as she typed a quick reply.

To : Jihyo TWICE [8:33pm]

Sure unnie, where do you want to meet?

Around half an hour later with the time at 5 minutes past 9pm, Y/N was now sitting at a park near Gangnam.

Her mind was a mess and she couldn’t think properly anymore. Shivering slightly at the cold temperature, Y/N felt a sudden warmth right next to her and when she looked to the side, she was greeted with Jihyo who offered a small and polite smile.

“Long time no see, Y/N - I hope you’re doing well.”

Y/N could only chuckle sadly as she greeted, “And the same goes to you, unnie.”

“I think you and I both know why I wanted to see you tonight, right?” Jihyo asked, her gaze never wavering and that was something Y/N has always known about the Twice leader. Jihyo was intimidating but it was only because the other girls were her family - her sisters.

Y/N nodded with pursued lips before suggesting, “How about we talk about this over a cup of hot chocolate?”

xoxo

Silence.

That was the only thing that was obvious as Y/N and Jihyo sat opposite of one another, eyes away from each other, at an isolated coffee shop nearby.

Y/N had spent time with the other members before but never after the break up. They were all very protective over each other so after the break up, Y/N was quick to assume that the girls wouldn’t want to talk to her ever again.

“I heard you’re dating again.”

Y/N quickly shifted her gaze to Jihyo, who was already looking directly right at her, before she chuckled awkwardly, looked away once again and revealed, “Kind of.”

“Kind of?”

“We broke up right before you texted me.”

“May I ask why?”

Y/N sighed audibly before she looked down at her hands and fiddled with her fingers while whispering, “I think you know why, unnie.”

Jihyo tilted her head slightly as she kept her gaze on the girl in front of her before saying, “Because of Mina?”

“Unnie-“

“If you loved her that much, why did you break up in the first place?” The Twice leader question, her piercing gaze never wavering as she added, “And you knew how much she loved you, and she saw you as her safe haven; so, tell me why Y/N - why’d you leave?”

Y/N looked up, connected her eyes with the Twice leader and she revealed joylessly, “Did you know how much it hurt me to see Mina being harassed, bullied and requested to be removed from Twice because she was with me?”

Jihyo couldn’t say anything, her heart feeling the pain in Y/N’s words as she simply listened because she knew that sometimes listening is the best medicine.

“She was called a ‘dyke’, a ‘rug licker’ and that wasn’t even close to the worse ones I’ve seen,” Y/N revealed, her eyes getting glassy as she continued saying, “The haters actually emailed JYP and requested Mina to be removed from the group because she brought shame to the Nation’s girl group; so, tell me unnie - was I supposed to just let that happen?”

The Twice leader felt sorry for the girl in front of her, her heart slightly aching in response before Y/N continued, “Mina’s anxiety was getting worse by the day and even though she kept telling me that she was ‘fine’, her cries in the middle of the night in the kitchen, told me a different story.” The girl revealed, a tear finally going down her cheek as the painful memory flooded her emotions.

As tears began to fall even more, Y/N released a shaky breath as she tilted her head facing upwards, trying her best to stop her tears while she quietly sobbed out, “I thought that maybe - maybe if I had just left and give her life a break from all the haters, then maybe she can finally stop crying alone at night.” Y/N then wiped her tears as she looked at Jihyo with red and teary eyes before she admitted, “I’m tired of pretending, unnie; I’m tired of pretending that I’m not hurting because... I miss her so much and that’s slowly killing me.”

Jihyo couldn’t stop the tears from falling from her own eyes and looked away from Y/N as she herself tried to wipe her own tears. She released a shaky breath and she couldn’t help but feel sorry for the girl in front of her.

Taking a deep breath, Jihyo made herself face Y/N and connected their teary eyes before pointing out, “When they forced you to leave, that’s when you should’ve stayed, Y/N-ya,” She croaked, letting tears fall as she added, “But I also understand where you’re coming from because that’s the same trouble I went through when my relationship went public.”

This caught Y/N’s attention as Jihyo sighed out, “The haters always said I was never good enough for someone like Kang Daniel and how was I just with him because I was someone who would never get someone better looking than him,” She recounted, her emotions getting the best of her as she added, “Every single day, I wanted to leave him because I wanted to do it before he did it to me.”

“I always wondered, ‘what if he falls for another girl who’s prettier?’ or ‘what if he falls for another girl who isn’t as insecure?’ because I never felt good enough for him,” Jihyo explained before she continued saying, “Yes, I am the leader of the Nation’s girl group but there are eight other girls who everyone said was prettier than me and yet, I was the first one to be officially dating someone; I was called a ‘slut’, a ‘whore’ and there’s more on that list than I’d like to admit.”

“Unnie-“

“But even when Daniel could’ve left me and trust me, I’ve pushed him a few times saying that maybe we shouldn’t be together anymore then he looked directly into my eyes and said that if he leaves, he’s giving them exactly what they wanted,” The Twice leader recalled, as she released a shaky breath and concluded, “I wanted to see you today because I know enough about you that you’re doing exactly what I would’ve done; the only reason why it took me this long to approach you is because Mina needed me first and I wanted to be there for her.”

“Then tell me what to do, unnie because I don’t know anymore,” She sniffled, her eyes red and both of her hands on the table top as she pleaded, “There hasn’t been a day where I haven’t thought of her and it’s starting to hurt - so, if you were in my position, what can I do to stop hurting this much?”

Jihyo felt for the girl, she really did. In fact, she was just lost for words at how relatable Y/N’s situation was for her. She knew how tough it is to date an idol, being an idol herself, so she can’t imagine the burden of a non-idol having to carry when the public finds out something so intimate.

Wiping her tears once again, Jihyo grabbed one of Y/N’s hand and used her free hand to grab something from her bag. Placing the item on Y/N’s hand, Jihyo wrapped the girl’s hand around it before saying, “December 24th, 6pm at JYP building; text me when you get there and I’ll pick you up myself.”

Y/N was about to inspect the item but before she could, Jihyo leaned forward and whispered, “This is your one chance to redeem yourself, Y/N-ya; don’t screw this up. I’m doing this because I like you for Mina. You’re a good person and sometimes, even the best break so now, I’m helping you - like how Daniel helped me.”

The Twice leader then gave a kind smile before she squeezed the girl’s hand and released her grip as she took her belongings and left.

As Y/N could only stare at the retreating back of Jihyo, she slowly looked down at her hand and saw an employee pass for the JYP building, feeling something she hasn’t felt in a long time.

Hope.

xoxo

“I’m home!”

Sounds of loud footsteps surround the apartment, 7 girls making their appearance as Jihyo took of her shoes before making her way into the apartment.

“Unnie, how did it go??” Chaeyoung asked, her eyebrows raised in interest.

“Did it work?? Is she going to be there??” Sana asked, grabbing onto Jihyo’s arm.

However, Nayeon then scoffed and cautioned, “I’m telling you guys - this whole thing is pointless! She has a new girlfriend, for heaven’s sake!”

“They broke up, actually,” Jihyo revealed, earning gasps of surprise from the girls in exception of Nayeon as the leader announced, “They broke up right before I texted her.”

“And that’s good news, how??” Nayeon questioned with furrowed brows as she huffed, “She couldn’t handle the pressure and left Mina to suffer alone - alone, guys! Why would you guys want her back with someone like that??”

“Unnie...” Dahyun perplexed, not believing her ears as she knew Nayeon was one of the closer members to Mina’s ex.

“Ya, Im Nayeon, don’t you think you’re being too unfair?” Jeongyeon protested, crossing her arms in defiance.

Nayeon then faced her best friend and rebuked, “Have you forgotten the nights where we had to calm her down from her anxiety attack after the break up?” She jabbed before she quickled added, “You were there with me, Jeongyeon-ah!”

“Does that mean she doesn’t deserve a second chance??” Jeongyeon spat, “There’s two sides to every story! Two sides!

Jihyo sighed and massaged her temple as she sighed, “Guys, that’s enough, Mina will hear us-“

“You’re unbelievable, Yoo Jeongyeon; after all the nights she cried to us, asked us why Y/N left and you dare say all of this??” Nayeon hissed, crossing her arms as she added, “Yes, there’s two sides to every story but she should’ve talked to Mina and given her a chance to fix this.”

“And now she wants to but you’re refusing to let her??” Jeongyeon argued before she added, “Do you really think that Y/N isn’t hurting too??”

“Wah, Jeongyeon, you’re really somethi-“

“Jeongyeon unnie’s right.”

At the sound of the quiet voice, the 8 girls immediately turned their heads towards Mina who was now watching and hearing their entire conversation.

The Japanese singer walked towards the group with her dejected eyes and her shoulders slightly down before she admitted, “If you girls know Y/N’s side of the story, you would understand too - which you should know by now, right Jihyo?”

Then all eyes shifted to Jihyo, who was looking directly at Mina, before she nodded slightly and admitted, “Yeah, she told me her reasons.”

Mina then nodded acknowledgingly, her eyes momentarily looking down at the floor before she looked at Jihyo once again and wistfully asked, “How is she?”

“How do you think, Mina-ya?” Jihyo asked gently, taking steps forward before she boldly asked, “The request of removal - was it true? Did they really email JYP for a removal?”

The Japanese looked away, hurt by the memories of the incident before she nodded and tried her best to hold her tears.

This confused the rest of the girls before Nayeon took a step forward and questioned, “What? What removal are you guys talking about?”

Ignoring the other members, Jihyo then crossed her arms and questioned, “Why didn’t you tell us?” Jihyo asked sadly before she added, “Why didn’t you tell me? If you had told me, I would’ve done something.”

“Jihyo-ya, I didn’t know what to do! My mind was a mess!” Mina defended, tears leaving her eyes as she continued, “It was triggering my anxiety and I was lost! I hated how they looked at me!”

The Twice leader then placed her hand on her best friend’s shoulder before she asked, “Mina, I love you and I want nothing but the best for you and everyone else in here - but how do you think it felt for your girlfriend to find you crying in the middle of the night when you tell her that you’re fine?”

The rest of them then looked at Mina sympathetically as it was Jeongyeon’s turn to take a step forward as she placed a hand on the Japanese’s arm before knowingly asking, “It was because they found out about you and Y/N, right?”

“And you didn’t want to let Y/N unnie know because you didn’t want her to suffer the name-calling; am I right?” Chaeyoung suddenly chimed in, her voice gentle and warm as she added, “But Jihyo unnie has a point; I can only imagine how helpless she felt watching you cry alone at night - which is probably why she thought it was her fault.”

“I didn’t want to worry her,” Mina croaked out weakly, her tears now apparent as she sobbed, “I was getting used to the name calling but the night I was told that they actually emailed the company for my removal, I just - I just lost it; I tried to hide it from Y/N but she found out from the internet and I guess... that’s where things went wrong. We fought and fought then one day, she just said that we weren’t working out. After I saw her last week and got an explanation... I knew then we both were in the wrong - not just her.”

As Mina’s quiet sobs took over the silence of the room, Nayeon huffed angrily as she gazed elsewhere while growling, “Those fucking idiots; they can’t stand to see us happy for one minute.”

“What’d you expect, unnie? To them, we’re just like properties that they think they own.” Momo chimed in, her own experience with the public making her angry.

“What do you want to do now, Mina unnie?” Tzuyu questioned gently, her voice kind and sincere as she added, “Are you going to talk to her?”

Mina wiped her tears and looked at Jihyo with hope as she hesitated, “Jihyo?” She questioned softly before adding, “What should I do?”

Then all eyes were back on Jihyo, who felt the pressure on her shoulder out of the complete blue, but there was no way in hell was she going to let this go. This was her best friend, her family and she was willing to go hell and back for her.

“We’ll just wait until our December 24th broadcast; everything will happen then.”

[darkblueboxs]

howdy i love your aftg writing!! here’s a concept: i feel like once neil’s past is out, he has no reason to hesitate absolutely sucker punching someone. like we know he made neil a pushover because it raises less questions, but now that everyone knows who he is im SURE he’s just bitch slapped someone mid-game. no holding back, like if u say something fucked up he’s just gonna try to kill you!! do you know who this man is?? there’s no doubt in my mind that he knows some quick and lethal punches!

Oh yes, anon. Bruiser!Neil I can DEFO get behind. 

Here’s 3k of Neil punching stuff, and Andrew being wildly turned on by it. Read here or on AO3 (Check AO3 notes for content warnings, etc.)

*Edit* : In the original version of this fic, Nicky faces racist abuse in addition to homophobic abuse, and quotes the offensive language and slurs used against him. After concerns were raised regarding how I handled this abuse (specifically, the language used, the context in which the abuse takes place, and my position as a non-latine) I censored and subsequently removed the relevant dialogue. I sincerely apologise and promise to do better in the future. Please don't hesitate to contact me with any questions and concerns regarding this subject.

[01/06/2020]

All the Guys Love a Bruiser

Neil’s mother taught him how to throw a punch, of course she did. Their lessons took place anywhere spacious enough to swing a fist, in empty parking lots behind greasy gas stations or in dingy motel rooms if she thought the walls were thick enough to cover up the noises they made.

Mary had always been more flight than fight, an instinct she had forced into Neil over years of running. Even she had to admit, however, that sooner or later they would hit a dead end, and while that would spell certain death for both of them, it would be better to go down fighting than it would on their knees.

If their lessons ended with Neil aching black and blue, it was his own fault. He needed to be quicker, smarter, crueller. More like his mother.

Matt’s teaching style is different from Mary’s, as is his fighting style. It bears the hallmarks of professional athleticism, all stances and positioning and strategy. While his mother’s idea of a lesson in self-defence was to hit Neil until he figured out how to dodge her blows or hit back, Matt talks him through how to angle his body, how to make a fist in a way that won’t break his fingers. At the end of their first boxing lesson, the only bruises on Neil’s body are the light purple spreading across his knuckles.

That evening, he and Andrew take over the beanbags, TV muted in the background while they dig into ice-cream. The tub is pleasantly cool in Neil’s hands, and he rubs his knuckles against the sides like an improvised icepack. When the residual cold has melted away, Neil flexes his fingers, enjoying the faint tingle dancing across them. These marks are different from those his mother gave him; they weren’t inflicted on him unwillingly but earned with sweat and exertion. When Matt had let go of the punching bag and told him they were done for the day, Neil had been surprised by his own disappointment. He had never been sorry see the end of his mother’s lessons.

Andrew takes his hand suddenly, startling Neil from his thoughts. It’s a purely analytical touch; he turns Neil’s hand over and runs a finger across the blossoming bruises of his knuckles.

Neil bites back the I’m fine, knowing the look it would earn him. Instead he says, “I had fun. We’re meeting again next week.”

Andrew nods. It’s a few moments more before he relinquishes Neil’s hand, however. The heat of Andrew’s skin mingles with the singing twinge of Neil’s bruises like an after-print.

Next week, Andrew slouches into the gym after Neil. He ignores Matt’s invitation to join them, flopping onto a rowing machine and leaning back against the machinery so he can kick his feet up on the seat rail. They’re lucky that they chose unsociable hours for their workout, or a line of athletes would be forming to glare at him.

Andrew watches them train from across the room with apparent disinterest. He can feign boredom all he likes; Neil knows he wouldn’t have bothered following him to the gym without reason.

Matt, if anything, seems amused by Andrew’s presence. “Dan comes to watch me practice sometimes, too.” He pauses to correct the angles of Neil’s feet before nudging his arms into blocking positions. “She did it even before we started dating. She used to sit on an exercise bike and pretend she was cycling so I wouldn’t know she was there to watch me. It was never very convincing.”

“Why did she want to watch you?” Neil shifts his weight, trying to copy Matt’s position.

Matt’s face crinkles up with laughter. “That’s the most Neil thing you’ve ever said.”

“Everything I say is a Neil thing.”

“She liked it when I took my shirt off. C’mon, man, join the dots.”

“You don’t take your shirt off to box.”

“Yeah,” says Matt. “Don’t tell her that.”

Neil rolls his eyes. “Can I hit you now?”

Matt barks out a laugh, and training resumes.

“Enjoying the show?” Neil asks Andrew an hour later, dropping down on the gym mat next to him. Andrew hands Neil his water bottle with an unimpressed look.

“You’re awful.” Andrew flicks a look over to Matt, who is using their break to chat with the only other gym regular insane enough to be working out at the crack of dawn on a Sunday. “He could knock you on your ass with one right hook.”

“I know I’m awful. That’s what training is for.” Neil pauses to gulp down most of the bottle. A droplet escapes his lips and tracks down his jugular before falling into the dip of his clavicle. Andrew’s eyes track its path. “Matt isn’t going to hurt me. Is that what you’re worried about?”

“I’m not here to babysit you.”

“Huh.” Neil drains the last of the water before shaking the residual droplets over his head. The beads glint in the corners of his vision as they catch in his bangs and fleck his cheeks, mercifully cooling against his skin. Andrew is still watching him intently. His eyes flick to Matt once more, checking that he is still absorbed in his conversation.

“Yes or no?”

“Yes,” Neil replies, and he watches as Andrew takes Neil’s hand in his. The skin is flushed from strike after strike, not yet coloured in bruising patches but soon to be. Neil’s hands feel softer for it, sensitive to Andrew’s touch.

“I know my limits.” Neil isn’t sure why the gym suddenly feels three degrees warmer. “Really, it doesn’t hurt.”

“I know. I trust you.” Andrew sends one more look over Neil’s shoulder like he’s checking the coast is clear before pressing Neil’s knuckles to his lips.

The breath Neil was in the process of catching slips from his grasp entirely. “Oh.”

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“You like watching me fight.”

“It’s more interesting than watching you run.”

Neil leans in until he can see each individual freckle on Andrew’s cheeks. “Interesting?”

Andrew’s cool look is betrayed by the twitch of his jaw. “Something like that.”

If Matt notices Neil’s new vigour when they return to practice, he doesn’t comment on it. When he catches Neil’s eye, however, he grins knowingly. Perhaps Matt’s conversation had not been as absorbing as he made it out to be. Soon, however, the rhythm of the exercise draws Neil’s attention back to the task at hand.

Neil first learned to throw a punch because his mother believed that one day his life could depend on it. That isn’t the reason that he has resumed his training with Matt; it turns out that a good instructor and fewer death threats make the activity far more pleasant than Neil remembers. It may be a useful skill, but he values the challenge more than he does the practicality. The physicality, too – in fact, he likes boxing for the same reasons that he loves Exy. Quick, brutal, thrilling. He finally understands, too, why Andrew likes to spar with Renee whenever his emotions get on top of him. There’s a certain a sense of control that comes from putting his fist through a break-board. Not that he needs the empowerment as much as he once might have – most of Neil’s tormentors were killed long ago, his fears with them. Given his new life of safety and security, it’s likely that he’ll never really need to know how to throw a good punch.

It takes all of one week for Neil to be proven wildly, wildly wrong.

Opposition strikers – with one glaring, now very dead exception – are not typically Neil’s problem. Generally, if they end up playing on the same side of the court as him, something has gone wrong in the team’s strategies.

He can tell even from a distance, however, that one of the Terrapin strikers is causing difficulties. Not in terms of ability – of which Terrapin’s #13 has little – but in attitude. Thirteen is a vocal player, and Neil can hear snatches of his voice echoing across the court. No fists have been swung, which is an impressive feat for the Fox defenders, but perhaps only because the luck of substitutions has put Thirteen against Nicky more than anyone else, and Nicky is more likely to react to insults with mirth than anger.

Shortly before the end of the first half, Nicky is subbed off at the same time as Thirteen. Nicky passes Neil on the way to the court doors, clacking their racquets together with half a smile. “Give them hell, Neil.”

Thirteen passes them at the same moment, slamming Nicky’s shoulder as he passes. Nicky mutters a word under his breath that would have earned him a month of washing-up duty at Abby’s house before heading for the Foxes’ bench. Neil watches him go, eyebrows creasing together. Nicky isn’t easily upset by the cruelty of strangers; it’s the cruelty that comes from within his own family that is most likely to shake him from his good humour. The barbed insults of nameless players on the court, on the other hand, are usually brushed off with a rude gesture and no more.

Swept up in the rush of the match, Neil forgets about Nicky’s discomfort until half-time. The team pours from the court in high spirits; they have a decent lead over the Terrapins which should carry them through the second half when exhaustion starts to kick in. Nicky, despite having blocked more shots on goal than anyone, reacts to the arrival of the rest of the team with only a pallid grin. His grip on his water bottle is tight, and the cheap plastic crackles and caves in his hands.

Nicky is an easy read, and it doesn’t take long for the other Foxes to notice. After he brushes Renee’s concerned enquiry off, however, the team leaves him be.

When Neil returns to the court for the start of the third quarter, he breathes a sigh of relief to see that Thirteen is nowhere near Nicky. He’s standing closer to goal than Neil is happy with, but Andrew is more or less impervious to verbal abuse and Thirteen has yet to show signs of physical violence. As much as he wants to keep a closer eye on the situation, Kevin’s barked commands draw his attention to the match at hand. The best thing Neil can do for the Foxes’ defence is to spend as much time lobbing the ball at the Terrapin’s goal as possible.

Neil and Nicky are substituted at the same time; they collapse onto the bench and drown their exhaustion in Gatorade. Thirteen crushed Nicky against the wall moments before the substitution, and Nicky is uncharacteristically quiet as Abby examines the cut over his eye.

“You’re not whining about cramping your style,” she says as she presses a plaster in place. “Should I be worried?”

“Nah, this is great for my style. All the guys love a bruiser.” Nicky winks despite the blood crusting in his eyelashes. “Neil knows what I’m talking about, don’tcha, Neil?”

Abby makes a noise that isn’t convinced, but doesn’t press the issue. Neil waits until she’s out of earshot before saying casually, “I still have a few contacts in the mafia.”

“Your sense of humour is dire,” says Nicky, but he’s grinning, so Neil counts it as a win. “Don’t worry about it. I think Andrew’s drawing his fire now. Andrew handles that kind of thing a lot better than me.”

“What kind of thing?”

Nicky winced. “Don’t ask.”

“Tell me.”

“Let's just say he isn't exactly lining up to lead a Pride march.” Nicky snorts humorlessly.

The joke doesn’t land, and not because of Neil’s non-existent sense of humour. He may not be as obvious as Nicky in his preferences nor as dark-skinned, but he has still been on the receiving end of enough of that brand of bullshit to know how it scratches at one’s insides.

“I wasn’t joking about those contacts.”

Nicky sighs. “I was worried you would say that.”

Neil’s attention keeps slipping from the game and over to Andrew, who is standing in goal and ignoring the tirade of insults being thrown his way like a statue facing down a breeze. His non-reaction only seems to stoke Thirteen’s fury, spittle catching in the mesh of his helmet as he watches Andrew knock yet another attempt away from the Foxes’ end.

Andrew spares Thirteen no more than a second of blank indifference in the face of his tirade. Then he drops his stance, shoulders setting into a silent challenge that sends a hot bolt of excitement straight Neil’s to gut. Andrew is locking down the goal.

The Terrapins don’t score again for the rest of the match.

Neil is through the doors before the final buzzer has died, charging into the crush of Foxes at centre-court to join in their celebrations. Andrew, as usual, hovers at the edge of the throng, but he accepts the clack of Neil’s racquet against his. A light sheen of sweat dances across Andrew’s forehead and his lips are parted as he regains his breath after the exertion of locking the Terrapins out.

“Did Thirteen give you trouble?”

Andrew snorts derisively despite his breathlessness. “He tried.”

Neil gets to see Thirteen up close during the handshakes. He barely grazes the tips of each Foxes’ fingers as he passes one by one, but he stops when he gets to Neil. “I remember you. You were all over the news, weren’t you? The runaway Wesninski.” His expression speaks to his delight at the revelation. To no-one’s surprise, Thirteen is a sore loser.

Andrew barely moves, just a slight adjustment to his footing so that he presses a little closer into Neil’s shoulder.

Neil smiles. It is the kind of smile he has not had use for in some time. “Looking for an autograph?”

Thirteen snorts. “Bet you think you’re real bad. Bet you think those scars make you look tough. Too bad you’re still a puny little bitch.”

Neil flexes his hand before clenching it into a fist. “I do think I’m real bad, actually. Want to find out why?”

The striker waits for the hit to come. Neil doesn’t give him the satisfaction; the guy is a piece of shit, but he isn’t worth the trouble he’s clearly looking for. Neil drops his hands, meets his gaze, and waits for him to give up on getting his reaction and leave.

Most of the other players are moving off to their own respective sides, and their stand-off is beginning to attract attention. Kevin squints over at them, and at his side, Aaron pulls off his helmet.

“Oh shit. Twins.” Thirteen’s gaze swings from Aaron to Andrew, flashing with sudden recognition. “I remember you too.” His expression turns sharkish. “Now that was a story. So, which one is the murderer, and which is the brother-fucker?”

Andrew barely twitches. Neil’s reaction is less restrained.

It’s almost a play-by-play of decking Riko at the Winter Banquet.  The key difference between that punch and this one is hours of training with a borderline-professional boxer.

Neil squares his stance, draws back his fist, and puts his whole body behind the punch. He’s rewarded with the sickening crack of a nose breaking and a hot spurt of blood splattering his knuckles.

Thirteen staggers back, shock registering for a second before he spits blood at the floor. He’s swaying on his feet, but there’s still fight in his eyes.

Andrew’s hands go to his sheaths, but Neil waves him back. He wipes the hand bloodied by Thirteen’s face across his jaw unthinkingly, feels the wet, red heat clinging to his skin. “Hey. This one’s mine.” The smile he tacks onto the words is toothier than he means it to be. With blood still smeared across his chin, he can only imagine how he looks.

Andrew’s hand judders to a halt at the hems of his armbands. His jaw is clenched tight but roaring over the current of concern is something far darker. It creeps into his eyes, a weight to his gaze normally only visible in the privacy of their bedroom. Andrew’s gaze runs the length of Neil’s body before coming to rest on Neil’s mouth. His bottom lip catches momentarily in his teeth as he nods.

Thirteen’s first swing hits, and a burst of blood dances across Neil’s tongue as his lip is split open. Thirteen’s luck ends there; Neil blocks his second punch with a move Matt taught him the day before. He drives his free hand into Thirteen’s solar plexus, knocking the air from him.

Neil doesn’t get much time to appreciate how the striker falls on his ass as they’re rushed by teammates and officials who break them apart.

Neil stands placidly before Wymack and bears his row with the bare minimum of decorum. The lecture is undercut by Nicky, who’s expression alternates between elation, amusement and mock disapproval from moment to moment. Matt, at least, waits until Wymack is finished before applauding.

“I’ll give you some notes later, but all things considered it was a solid right hook.”

Neil brushes the team’s reactions off as best he can; he certainly didn’t do it for their recognition.

He takes his time showering, watching with a strange, sick pleasure as he rinses the striker’s blood away. It turns pink in the shower basin before swirling at last down the drain. Beneath the blood, Neil’s knuckles have begun to bruise, satisfaction burning them blue.

It’s at these times that Neil worries that he may have inherited too much from his father; the temper, the violence, the bloodlust. Then again, they all served as tools to his survival at one point or another. The key difference between Neil and his father is who they choose to turn their anger on. Neil’s father always set his sights on the underdog. Neil prefers to punch up.

No; if there’s one thing Nathan gave him, it was a distaste for bullies.

There’s a familiar tap at the door to Neil’s stall. The rest of the Foxes cleared out some time ago, still rowdy from the post-match high. Tonight was a home game; most of the team will be halfway back to Fox tower already, thinking only of booze and the weekend stretching ahead of them. There’s only one player who would have any reason to linger.

Andrew steps under the spray, his hair is plastered to his head by the steamy drizzle. He holds his hand out, and Neil offers his without question for Andrew’s inspection.

Andrew’s voice is dispassionate as he inspects the damage. “I don’t need a knight in shining armour. Nor for you to fight my battles for me.”

“The fight was for my own satisfaction. But I’ll stop if you want me to.”

Once again, Andrew presses his lips to Neil’s raw knuckles. The contact stings, sweet and savoury, pleasure and pain. “Would it kill you to make life easy for once?” The words tingle against the tender skin.

“I thought you liked to watch me fight.”

“Just because I find your stupidity entertaining doesn’t mean I encourage it.”

“It’s my stupidity you like, is it?”

“What else do you have?” Andrew’s eyes track the rivulets of water snaking down Neil’s neck.

“I’m sure I can think of a few things.” Neil says. Then, for clarity, “Yes or no?”

“Yes.” Andrew doesn’t let go of Neil’s hand, thumb running across the reddening knuckles once more before leading it to his chest. Neil leaves it resting there, marvelling at the colours bleeding between them under the shower’s onslaught, pink and brown and red and blue. Andrew soon tires of Neil’s staring, and is the first to bridge the gap between them.

Neil once compared Andrew’s kisses to a fight with their lives on the line. Countless kisses later, this fact has not changed in the slightest. Andrew leaves a bruising trail of kisses across Neil’s neck until he can’t remember which marks are from Exy and which are from Andrew. They all sting the same, sweet way.

Each kiss pressed to his mouth carries a metallic tang from Neil’s burst lip. He can tell from the fierce pressure of Andrew’s mouth against his that Andrew can taste it too, is feeding off the adrenaline rush just as Neil is. He catches Neil’s bottom lip between his teeth and with it sucks a groan from deep in Neil’s chest.

Andrew draws back to level him with an unimpressed look. “You’re far too into this.”

“You’re one to talk.” Neil raises his hand to Andrew’s eyeline, wiggling his fingers. Andrew’s eyes catch on the blooming violet patches. “You like this. Admit it.”

Andrew steps forward until his cheek brushes Neil’s fingers. Neil turns his hand automatically, cupping Andrew’s face.

“Yes,” says Andrew. His eyes stay on Neil’s, even as Neil’s hand drops lower.

It’s a small miracle, Neil thinks, that Andrew can trust Neil’s hands on him, after all he knows they are capable of. Maybe that’s part of the appeal, the evidence painted into Neil’s knuckles that Neil’s gentler touches are reserved for Andrew and Andrew alone. It’s strange that Andrew should love Neil’s fighting spirit as much as he does. After all, it was Andrew who taught Neil how to stand and fight in the first place.

It’s a fact that neither will ever let the other forget.

Neil leaves the shower sporting several more bruises than he entered with. Some are from Exy, some are from fighting, and some are from Andrew’s mouth.

He loves them all just the same.

 * Thanks for reading, let me know what you think! Still open to prompts etc.

[lgbtyrus]

Two Exes on Mars

A Tyrus fic where they’re aged up + broken up :) It will have a ‘happily ever after’, I promise. Note: IDK if you know your Andi Mack lore, but just in case, Shadyside is in a fictional US state called Midwest.

Part 1/? (I’m thinking 3 or 4)

Words: 2,668

He kissed him goodbye. It wasn’t even rainy or cloudy outside, much less foggy. It was super bright and sunny, and Cyrus could hear every single bird in Shadyside chirping as his now ex-boyfriend walked out the front door of his house. He waited until TJ was out of his driveway to shut the door and break out in tears, pressing his forehead and fist against his door.

Why? he wondered. Why? Why? Why?

But he knew why. He knew why TJ had let him go in the worst breakup in the world. He had tried to a week ago which led to Cyrus breaking down in front of him and ended up with them back together. But the tension between them was so obviously, and it lead to TJ’s horrible mood swings and random outbursts he never apologized for. It made Cyrus feel like crap. Then in the middle of the week, TJ tried breaking up with him over text. Cyrus ignored it, and TJ went over to his house the next day like nothing had happened. Not even three days later, TJ came over to break up him a third time. For good.

That just happened two minutes ago, and Cyrus silently let him leave this time. He shouldn’t have ever let him see him cry.

“You have to go to California, Cyrus,” TJ had told him, his eyes red and his hands clenching into tight fists. All Cyrus could do was stare at the floor. It’s not everyday you get a chance to go to USC, but it also meant leaving everyone you loved behind- including TJ. Him and TJ had been together since the 8th grade, and he had included TJ in all of his future plans. For him, being in a long distance relationship was a possibility, and he never thought TJ would be against it.

“I want to go to MSU,” Cyrus shook his head, refusing to look at him. TJ was going to MSU on a basketball scholarship, and yeah, they had a theatre and screenwriting, but it wasn’t USC. It was one of the hardest choices Cyrus had to make.

“You’re clearly lying, Cyrus,” TJ let out a frustrated sigh, “I know when you’re lying.” It’s true, he did. His hands always instinctively went inside a pocket, and Cyrus has never been able to stop it. “Cyrus. I know I’m the main reason why you want to stay in Midwest, but I want you to go to USC. It’s what you want.”

“Does that mean we have to break up, though?” Cyrus asked him sadly, his voice quiet. TJ ran his fingers through his blonde hair and let out a deep breath.

“We’d be doing long distance for four years, Cyrus. I don’t want to hold you back from being at your prime if you’re moping around missing me the entire time.”

“Are you just saying this because you’re the one that’s not going to be fine?” There wasn’t even a pause.

“Yes, Cyrus!” TJ said loudly, startling Cyrus. “I can’t spend four years of my life being sad because I miss you all the time, but I also can’t live with the guilt I’m going to feel if you don’t go to USC. This entire situation is driving me insane, and I really think breaking up is the best way to go.”

“You honestly think that?” Cyrus frowned, looking right up at him. He didn’t want to break down like he did the first time. “You’re just giving up? Not even giving long distance a try. After five years, TJ?”

TJ shamefully looked away before saying, “I love you, Cyrus. But I think it’d hurt less to let you go.”

“How?” Cyrus’ voice started to tremble as he spoke in complete disbelief, “How can you even say you love me right now?” TJ didn’t say anything. He just slowly walking up to Cyrus, each step taking its own time before cupping his face in his hands and kissing him softly.

TJ pulled away, whispering, “Bye, Cyrus.”

Cyrus was now sitting on his bedroom floor, playing music louder than his occasional sob. Andi and Buffy were on their way, but until then, it was him, and a lone polaroid picture he had of him and TJ on their first Valentine’s Day together right in front of him. Him and TJ were sitting on one side of the booth at The Spoon while Marty and Buffy sat on the other side. TJ had his arms around him and was smiling in to his cheek, leaving a very fluttered Cyrus to be captured forever.

“Cyrus!” someone yelled out from downstairs. “We’re here.”

“Upstairs!” Cyrus yelled out, his voice slightly cracking. He hadn’t spoken since TJ left, and his throat hurt. He was glad he left the door unlocked for them because he didn’t have the energy to move.

Andi peaked her head through his bedroom door, frowning when she saw him, “Hi, Cyrus.”

“Hey,” Cyrus waved, “come in.” He hadn’t seen Andi in about three weeks was she was getting busy with her senior art project for SAVA. He loved her for being here during a busy time. Buffy trailed in behind Andi with two loaded grocery bags.

“We brought ice cream and pie,” Buffy held the bags up. “We stopped by your kitchen to get utensils.”

“Thank you because I was not going to move,” Cyrus said. Andi and Buffy sat down on each side of him and rested their heads on his shoulder.

“You can cry if you want,” Andi told him.

“Yeah,” Buffy agreed, “we bought three tissue boxes.”

“I’ve been crying for like an hour, and I’m just tired of it at this point. But this is also probably just the start,” Cyrus mumbled. “How am I supposed to accept that someone I talked to everyday for five years is leaving my life?”

“I know it hurts, Cyrus,” Buffy whispered. “But you’re stronger than you think. You’re going to get through this. Trust me. I’m always right.”

“I know you are,” Cyrus smiled slightly. “You know what sucks the most though?”

“What?” they asked in unison.

“We already have matching tuxedos from prom.” -

Cyrus and TJ showed up with new tuxedos to prom. Andi herself made Cyrus a brand new one. The according to different sources, both Cyrus and TJ had both begged Gus to cancel their Prom Court nomination. Gus thought it was funny until Buffy stepped in, and he got scared.

Cyrus and TJ didn’t sit together at lunch anymore or do homework together or visit the swing sets every Tuesday after TJ got out of tutoring. Cyrus submitted his paperwork to attend USC in the fall and according to Amber who was at Shadyside’s community college, TJ was going to go to MSU to play for their basketball team. Buffy and Marty would be seeing him at MSU seeing they got track scholarships.

Cyrus cried every night for the rest of the school year after finishing his homework because he worked to hard to have his GPA suffer over a boy who clearly didn’t care if he fell apart. He sometimes sat in the bathtub and let music fill his whole bathroom and no matter what, every single song would remind him of TJ. Of course, that was his fault for playing the playlists TJ had made him on Spotify. He wondered if he could see that he was listening to them. He hoped he did.

Cyrus didn’t have any communication with TJ since the last texts he sent him. It was a 2AM on a Saturday night, about three weeks since the breakup. He felt horrible and didn’t know how to stop crying. Even though Buffy had told him to call him whenever, he couldn’t keep dumping everything on her.

Cyrus: hey tj I hope im not waking u up idk if you still have your phone set so that u only get text alerts from me but I just wanted to say that I miss you.

Cyrus: I miss you so much tj idk what to do without you. Everything hurts all the time and I just want to talk to you and hear you voice even if we cant date anymore please talk to me. Please be my friend again tj we were best friends for 5 years we work so good together

Cyrus: I love you. I think that ill always be in love with you.

TJ: Goodnight Underdog.

Cyrus didn’t remember what time he went to sleep, but he felt like he cried for hours after that. The pain in his chest beat him up completely until he was too weak to flip his pillow to the dry side.

At their graduation, Cyrus gave a speech and then walked off stage to everyone in the auditorium clapping. It felt surreal. When he looked up smiling, out of all of the people he saw in the sea of graduates, he saw TJ clapping. He had his lip curled up in one corner which showed that he was on the verge of tears. That was the only time that night Cyrus wanted to cry.

-

A month into USC and without a doubt, Cyrus was homesick and probably depressed. He had made a great group of friends that were similar to him and super positive. He appreciated them, but 8 out of 10 times, they could never convince him to leave his room. He just stayed in and did homework and work on his script. It was about a man who gets his heart shattered and decided to move to Mars as part of a science experiment and when he’s already in space, he realize that his ex is one of the 100 people on board. Things quickly escalate. His friends loved the scripts and always asked to read updates, but he still sent snippets to Bex because he missed her.

It had been months since the breakup with TJ that happened late April. He should be over it now, he thought a lot of the time. But it still hurt. TJ really shot a hole in his heart and there was nothing he could do about it. He didn’t cry everyday like he used to. But every other few weeks, he snuck into the bathroom to cry so his roommate wouldn’t see. It was embarrassing to admit.

Cyrus kept things in a rotation. Script, class, eat, homework, sometimes friends, and sleep. It was hard to stay happy and to enjoy himself. It was hard to feel like he was living through something when he’s been dead inside for months. With Halloween coming up, he felt even worse. He’s never not had anyone to match costumes with. For five years, him and TJ did a couple’s costume and before that, him, Buffy, and Andi always had something up their sleeves. He missed all of them.

Then one day, his roommate let one of his friends into their dorm room. His roommate was part of his friend group, so there was that. Cyrus was working on his infamous script and didn’t even get a text that he was coming. Usually, he said no, though. “Hey, Rich,” Cyrus said as he walked in.

“Hey, Cy,” he said. “I was in the building and wanted to drop by.”

“Why’d you text Karson and not me?” Cyrus asked.  

“You always say no.”

“True. Anyways, what’s up?”

“We need one more person for our Halloween costume. It’s Full House. We need an Uncle Jesse. You in?”

“Yeah,” Cyrus grinned, “of course.”

-

“Damn,” his friend Bogie said. “That TJ foo fucked you up bad, huh?” All eight of them were sitting around a bonfire before Thanksgiving break. It had been a long night of confessions and telling each other things not a lot of other people knew. Somehow in the moment, Cyrus spent thirty minutes telling them the becoming and downfall of him and TJ. Rich had convinced him to go to therapy on campus early November, and Cyrus wished he had gone sooner. It was getting so much easier to be around his friends and have open conversations.

“Yeah,” Cyrus admitted. “I cried everyday for months. I still cry sometimes.”

“Is that why you spend forever in the bathroom?” Karson asked him. Cyrus nodded.

“Damn, Cy,” Roxana mumbled, “no wonder you were so distant at the beginning of the school year. I thought you were just stuck up, but I guess I was wrong. I’m glad you trust us now, though.”

“Me, too,” Cyrus said.

“So, this TJ,” Bogie asked, “what’s he up to?”

“Besides knowing that he plays basketball for Midwest State U, I have no idea. I haven’t talked to him since I last texted him after the breakup. I’m still good friends with his sister, but she never says anything.”

“Dang, so he’s a baller?” Bogie asked.

“Probably just getting fucked up at parties,” Mikhenna suggested. Cyrus didn’t respond. He just shrugged.

“Do you still love him?” Roxana asked him.

“I don’t think so,” Cyrus shook his head. “I’d be stupid to. But thanks for listening, guys. I feel a lot better. I feel like I belong and that I can finally move on.”

-

Cyrus didn’t see the point of flying all the way back home for a week long break, so he decided to stay behind in California and take a train to his aunt and uncle’s place. They had a daughter that thirteen and always had juicy middle school drama.

When he was laying down on the bed of the guest room, his phone started vibrating. Buffy was on Facetime, and he answered immediately saying, “Hey, Buff.”

“Hey, Cyrus,” Buffy grinned widely before switching the camera, “look who’s with me!”

Andi waved at the camera, “Hey, Cyrus!”

“Andi,” Cyrus grinned. “How are you? We haven’t talked in like four days.”

“I know right,” Andi laughed. “I’m fine. What about you?”

“I’m good, I’m good,” he said before registering completely that Andi was in Shadyside. “Wait,” he paused, “aren’t you supposed to be in Pennsylvania?”

“Yeah but a professor died, so they gave us two weeks off instead of three days and just postponed winter break.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“I have no idea who he is,” Andi shrugged. “But where are you?”

“With my dad’s sister and her family. I’m just chilling and eating home made food before I go back,” Cyrus smiled. Andi moved over to sit next to Buffy and Cyrus noted that they were at the Mack’s place.

“So enough of that,” Buffy said and then looked at Andi who gave her a stern look. “Come on, let me tell him.”

“Well now you have to tell him,” Andi rolled his eyes.

“That’s very true,” Cyrus agreed.

“I know,” Buffy smirked. “That’s why I said that. Anyways,” she looked right at the camera, “we went to the mall with Amber in her car, but it broke down in the parking lot when we were leaving. She had to call TJ to come pick us up, which was already awkward enough because I always ignore him at school, but I was like whatever, it’s a twenty minute drive. Then in the car, literally, this man, I mean, boy, can ask any question. Any question in the world. Preferably, one directed at his sister, like you know, has your car been acting funky for a while? But he asks me and Andi, ‘How is Cyrus doing?’” Cyrus’ heart dropped. He hasn’t heard anything about TJ in so long he’s forgotten how to react.

“What did you say?” Cyrus asked nervously.

“I said that I charge $50 per fact,” Buffy said, “and he didn’t say anything else.”

“That’s weird,” Cyrus frowned. “I wonder why he doesn’t just ask Amber. I literally call her once a week, every Tuesday.”

“No idea,” Buffy said. “But maybe she just doesn’t answer him for the same reasons I didn’t.”

“Which are?”

“We love you.”

-

anyways follow my main @webarebares <3 thank you for reading! feel free to send asks if something was confusing or if a typo was horrible or just because. i luv u.

[lokishornns]

Champagne and Heights Two

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masterlist

mcu masterlist

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pairing: loki x reader

type: oneshot, fluff

rating: pg13

summary: this is a part two to Champagne and Heights

word count: 1,826

warnings: alcohol, cursing

notes: sorry that this is super short but im struggling through a writing sludge atm! This also has like 0 plot lmao

request: anonymous  — “Hi, hun! Are you still taking request? I absolutely LOVE your Champagne and Heights fic! Does a part 2 count as a request?”

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“Please, don’t do this,” you pleaded, your eyes glazed over with tears that were just starting to spill out of the corners. Gasps left your body and your stomach trembled with the ongoing attack. You coughed, turning your head away to hide the red that was now becoming prominent on the tips of your ears.

“You deserve it,” he growled, his large figure creating a shadow over you in the bright lighting. His fingers tread ruthlessly over your sides, running up and down your skin, goosebumps in their wake. Your eyes were staring at his, a desperate plea hiding within their silence. Your body wriggled as adrenaline circled throughout your blood, pumping to every corner in your body.

“I don’t, you fat cunt,” you gritted out through your teeth, your eyes flying shut as he found a crevice that was particularly sensitive. You squealed, your arms trapped by his legs, your hands grasping at nothing.

“Yes, you do. You ate my last cookie. I was going to eat that, you bitch,” he said, his eyes narrowing at your scrunched face, your laughs choking out of your throat. You wriggled violently now, just now figuring out how to use your legs as your weapon. “You’re supposed to be a trained and professional warrior; look at you succumbing to tickling,” he taunted, his fingers now pressing tightly into your hips, your muscles spasming in response.

You grunted, your head flinging back into the cushion, Loki’s weight pinning you tightly to the couch. You managed to wriggle your body enough to flip your figure over, your stomach facing the couch, your hands becoming free in the process. Your hands grab the end of the couch, pulling your body towards freedom before being yanked back. If only you were an inch taller.

“Not so fast, darling,” he growled, his voice rumbling deep in his throat and resonating through you. “Now, you owe me two cookies,” his voice brushes your ear, a spark running down your spine at the sensation. You flung your body one more time, your ass hitting something, causing Loki to yelp and fly off the couch. You grin, your body scrambling rapidly over the arm of the couch, zapping in the direction of your room, your feet treading quickly. Loud thuds sound behind you, your heart rate rising at the sound.

Right before you can reach the door that promises safety, a firm arm slinks around your waist, jerking you back towards his chest. His breath fans against your neck and bumps arise at the foreign and unexpected feeling. You gasped in surprise, the wind being knocked out of your chest.

“Love, you’re a fool if you think you can run from me,” he says in a low tone and you gulp, your throat suddenly feeling very thick. You fumble around in his grip, your hands pushing against the god’s chest. Loki’s hands encircle your wrists, your hands staying solid against his chest. You glance down at your hands that are now firmly against his pecs, your face automatically feeling the heat of blood concentrating towards your cheeks.

Both of you jump apart, not entirely realizing what the situation entailed until now. You stumble over your words, only broken apologies escaping your lips as you press your hands against your face, shielding it from Loki’s gaze. You peer through your fingers to notice that Loki’s face is oddly red and his hand is rubbing the back of his neck.

“You still owe me cookies,” Loki’s cheeky voice breaks the silence and you can hear the smirk in his voice, unwillingly forcing a smile to come over your own. You glance at the god, your smile growing at the almost desperate look in his eyes.

“You really want those cookies, don’t you?” you ask, your arms going to cross over your chest, involuntarily pushing your bra up more. You don’t miss Loki’s longing glance that seems to disappear in a blink of the eye, but the swallow of his throat seems to clue you in that you hadn’t been imagining it.

“I can’t believe you really trusted me!” you choked out between laughter, your body crouched over as it trembled with intense laughter. Your eyes were shut tightly, obscuring your view from the sight of the god washing out his flour-covered mouth with the extendable sink faucet as he whined. You cried with a new bout of laughter every time you peeked your eyes open to spot the dark-haired prince.

Suddenly, your nose scrunched and a loud and puncturing sound erupted from it, causing you to freeze. Your eyes met Loki’s and you descended to the ground, clutching your sides in the most intense snorting and laughing session you had ever experienced.

“You are the most infuriating mortal I have ever met,” he grumbles, his eyes darkening, glaring at your hunched figure. You can only snort some more, a new round of giggles escaping your lips. As you laugh your heart out on the floor, an overwhelming amount of thoughts rush through Loki’s head.

The first and the most prominent one is the ever-prodding reminder that constantly remains in the back of his mind. The one that washes over his mind whenever he stares at his ceiling at night, trying to fall asleep. The one that will flash across his head every time he comes upon your favorite show. Or the thought that bubbles up the fear that every time he’s on a mission that something may happen to you. The thought that he loves you. More than anyone or anything he’s ever known.

However, the multitude of others that continuously stampede into his mind are the exact ones that keeps him from sleeping at night. The exact thoughts that make him turn off your show whenever it pops up when he’s surfing channels. The exact ones that make his fear of losing you so much worse that it hurts to function without you. The doubts and fears that you will never return his feelings.

“Loki?” your familiar voice shakes him out of his thoughts and he looks at your pink skin that now has tear stains that trail down your face. He flashes a smirk your way and you narrow your eyes in suspicion. “What’s wrong?” you asked, your hand twitching as if it instinctively wanting to reach out to the prince.

“I’m just plotting what revenge will look like,” he said and a smile washes over your features, replacing any sense of worry on your features.

“Sure thing, big boy,” you pat his shoulder before placing your hands on your hips to inspect your handiwork that now rests in the oven. You sigh in satisfaction, brushing your hands to get rid of any reminders of your cooking.

“What do we do now?” the prince bends down to peer into the small window that gives way to the creation of heaven.

“Grab the champagne and wait.”

“How many more minutes?” Loki whines for the thousandth time, causing you to roll your eyes. The aroma of the cookies has intruded Loki’s nose, obviously paving way for impatience from him. He whines consistently, staring intently at the oven. You had attempted drinking the alcoholic beverage and reading to pass the time, but eventually, Loki’s nagging had taken away from the joy of reading.

You were about to respond before the oven very rudely interrupted your sentence, the loud beeping prominent through the kitchen. You rush over, pulling your mitts on before snatching the tray of cookies out of the oven and placing them on the stove. You’re about to warn Loki of the dangers of a hot cookie before a hand reaches around you and throws the hot heaven into an unsuspecting mouth. You stare as the bored expression turns to one of panic, hurriedly running over to the sink to spit out the mesh of hot baking.

“Oh, gods,” he waves his hands near his mouth, steam erupting from inside. You cover your mouth with a clothed hand to stifle your laugh. “Stop laughing,” he almost warns and it only makes the need to laugh more and more imposing, alcohol suddenly overcoming your senses.

“Make me,” you shove out through laughs, covering your mouth even more. Your eyes find Loki’s to see that he’s frozen, staring at your lips. Your breath hitches at the unexpected stare. “Loki?” you ask, your voice quieter. You’re much more aware of the proximity between the two of you; you can feel the coolness of his body radiating off of him.

“Okay,” he whispers before he leans down, his breath, smelling of champagne, brushing over your lips, giving you a sense of control. You close the distance between the two of you, having to lift your weight up onto your tippy toes, pressing your lips tightly against the god’s.

He bends down over you, allowing your feet to fall flat against the floor. His arms weave their way to wrap around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to his figure, your bodies flush against each other. Your hands instinctively go to interlace behind his neck, giving you something to balance on. Your lips move in sync with each other, opening and closing at just the perfect times. A soft sound emanates from the back of your throat, causing you to pull away in surprise.

Your face flushes red in embarrassment and your eyes flutter open. You bite the inside of your cheek, looking away from the god. You mutter a quick sorry, flustered at the moan that had crawled its way from your mouth.

“Oh, shut up,” he whispers, his lips finding yours again, a groan now coming from him this time, making you smile against his lips. The breaths that funnel through your nostrils become heavy and erratic, filling the kitchen. You yelp in surprise as his hands travel down, going to grip the back of your thighs and lift your legs to wrap around his waist.

A rustling of paper that caught your attention pulled you away from the kiss, drawing the attention of your eyes. You freeze, Loki soon following your actions, his eyes following the path of yours where a seemingly upset Bucky is handing a bright and joyous looking Peter Parker a five dollar bill.

“Did you – Did you bet on us?” you asked, your voice raised an octave.

“Bucky bet eight weeks and I bet six weeks,” Peter explains, causing your eyebrow to raise.

“Weeks?” Loki asks, obviously confused.

“On how long from the night of the Gala it would take you two to get together,” Bucky finishes, grumbling as he stalks off, dragging Peter with him, leaving the two of you alone in the kitchen once again.

“Darling, although I would love to resume as soon as possible, I believe this should be continued in my room,” Loki says and you nod, squealing when he pulls you over his shoulder, his hands resting on your thighs.

[bigskydreaming]

Whats Nightwing and Deathstroke's dynamic? Why does it make you wince? Im not very familiar with it.

Nightwing and Slade actually have a really interesting and compelling dynamic in a lot of ways, that can be really good when written well and really terrible when not. My biggest issue is it is that its not sexual in the comics (Slade is a good thirty years older than him) or in other adaptations that have a version of it, like the Teen Titans cartoon. But fandom being fandom, Dick/Slade is a bigger ship than like, half his actual canon ships, so any new take on it always comes with a big sigh at all the new Dick/Slade shipping that’s gonna crop up or have a resurgence cuz of it. And I’m annoyed enough with YJ right now that I’m not giving them the benefit of the doubt that they’ll do anything new or interesting with it that’s worth having to wade through pages of new Dick/Slade noncon in the months afterwards. Its a ship that generates a lot of non-con fic in particular, or at least my old favorite, ‘dubcon’, with the dubious part of the consent referring to the fact that it usually involves mind control or brainwashing, both tropes that show up a lot in their interactions anyway. (Not that there’s anything dubious about this NOT allowing for consensual anything, just that people love to call it dubcon because….fuck if I know).

But anyway….in the comics, Deathstroke is a mercenary who’s one of the Titans’ earliest and most iconic enemies. Though at various times and depending on who’s writing him, he’s sometimes an antihero and even a semi-trusted ally of the Titans (usually with Dick specifically), other times a villain but with his own personal code of honor that means he won’t help the Titans or other heroes but he’ll refuse to take jobs that would pit him against them, and other times he’s full on remorseless and sadistic villain who hates them all and wants them all dead.

He also had three kids, his son Grant (the first Ravager), his younger son Joseph (Jericho) and his youngest, their half-sister Rose (the second Ravager). Basically, the first time he interacted with the Titans was when the supervillain group HIVE put out a contract to have the Titans all killed. Slade turned them down cuz of his personal honor code and how young the Titans were, but his son Grant accepted the contract in exchange for HIVE giving him superpowers to help him fulfill it. The process didn’t work right though, and when fighting the Titans, Grant’s powers overloaded and killed him.

Slade blamed the Titans for this, and vowed to finish the contract and kill them as some twisted way of honoring Grant. He doesn’t do Logic so good, well no, its more like he doesn’t really do parenting so good, as in he tends to have fuck all to do with his kids 364 days of the year, but then something bad happens to one of them and suddenly he thinks he’s Dad of the Year and going 0 to Homicidal in six seconds flat is the way to make up for all the times he’s let them down or screwed them over, instead of just…not Doing That.

So Slade recruited a young meta named Tara Markov (yup, that one) and trained her as his apprentice specifically to help him get revenge on the Titans. At his prompting, she joined the Titans as a spy for him, feeding him intel and plotting against them in one of the best known comicbook storylines of all time, The Judas Contract. It was up there with some of the X-Men’s best known stories like the Dark Phoenix Saga and Days of Future Past. (In the 80s actually, the Titans comic book was almost as popular as Uncanny X-Men at the time. Like way more than the Justice League. They were DC’s big hitters, popularity wise - specifically the lineup that for the most part was centered around Dick, Donna, Starfire, Beast Boy, Cyborg and Raven, with other members like the original Titans and later ones like Pantha and Wildebeest coming and going at various points in the 80s too).

Ultimately, Tara made her move and betrayed the Titans, enabling Slade to kidnap each of them one by one and turn them over to the HIVE….all except for Dick. In the meanwhile, he was approached by Slade’s ex-wife Adeline Kane - who has an equally all over the place dynamic with Slade, like sometimes she’s his worst enemy and other times she’s manipulating events behind the scenes to help him without him knowing, because she still loves him…it basically just depends on who’s writing her, same as with Slade. Also, Kane is Adeline’s maiden name, she’s distantly related to Kate Kane aka Batwoman in some extremely complicated manner I can never remember, but that’s mostly just trivia. I can’t remember a time its ever been relevant to a story, and it has nothing to do with Slade’s interactions with Dick.

ANYWAY. Point being, so Adeline, who blames and hates Slade at this time for their son Grant’s death, along with their other son Joey, seek out Dick and offer their help rescuing the Titans and defeating Slade. Joey is a metahuman as a result of Slade’s altered DNA (he has regenerative powers and is actually immortal, due to experiments the army did on him while he was a soldier). So Joey was born with powers although they didn’t activate until he was a young adult. His codename was Jericho and his power lets him possess peoples’ bodies. He’s also mute, and I’m half expecting him to show up in YJ fairly soon. If not this season then hinted at by the end of it. Also wouldn’t surprise me if they had plans to have him be gay in the YJ universe. He’s a character who was coded as gay practically from his debut. Joey/Dick is actually probably Dick’s oldest and most enduring slash ship, for the record.

So Joey works with Dick to rescue the Titans and defeat Slade, who’s captured and goes on trial for kidnapping the Titans. Joey ends up joining the Titans in the aftermath, and Adeline’s yay good, this was my Sekrit Plan all along, I did all this solely in the hopes that you would end up a superhero and have positive influences and not end up a murdering douchebag of flexible morality like your dad cuz fuck that guy, am I right Titans?

Did Adeline really just do all of that because she wanted her son to have more friends? Like…idk honestly it could go either way. Like….it IS the kind of thing she would do, tbh, so its as likely she was telling the truth as it is she just wanted to screw Slade one last time to avenge Grant and then was like hey if I take credit for my kid ending up a Titan now, I could probably play the “you owe me one” card later if I ever need to. Addy does like handing out “you owe me one” cards, just to be safe. Never know when you might need one.

The thing all this has to do with Dick is like, so it basically ended up being Dick versus Slade in the big finale, while Joey was rescuing the others and helping them face off against Tara. And for whatever reason - with multiple takes on this offered by multiple writers in the decades since - something about Dick just stuck with Slade and he’s had a kinda fascination with him ever since. Like he’s always talking about how much more he could teach Dick than what he already learned from Bruce, trying to convince him he’s got a killer instinct that Bruce just suppressed and its holding him back, blah blah, like saying he’s good, but Slade could make him great, so he surpasses both Bruce and Slade. TBH, he spends WAY more time obsessing about Dick and getting Dick to join him than he bothers paying attention to his own kids. 

It really isn’t inherently sexual though, its a weird kinda pseudo father/son, pseudo mentor/mentee type thing. And its not entirely one-sided, because Dick at various times IS…tempted? Kinda? Like whenever Dick’s having some kind of crisis of conscience, or he’s pissed at Bruce or is questioning the effectiveness of superheroes or why they do the things they do or what does it all matter blah blah blah like omg I love you Dick, I really do, but sometimes you are such a drama queen, my god, blast some My Chemical Romance, experiment with drugs and chill out already, its not that deep. (LOL I kid. Well mostly). But point being, every once in awhile something happens that puts Dick in a funk and makes him second guess himself, and he spends like….a month being convinced he should reinvent himself as the anti-Bruce, that’s the solution, and this usually sends him in search of Slade except he’s always like ‘OH FANCY MEETING YOU HERE, THIS IS TOTALLY RANDOM AND NOT ON PURPOSE’. 

And Slade likes to take any opportunity to try and convince him like BE A BAD GUY DICK, KILL PEOPLE FOR MONEY, ALL THE COOL KIDS ARE DOING IT. Except inevitably Slade does something that pisses Dick off and Dick snaps out of it and is like NO, IM A HERO AND THIS IS BAD, I REMEMBER NOW AND I’LL NEVER JOIN YOU, YOU’RE NOT MY REAL DAD I HATE YOU! And then they fight again, but with swords, not words, and then they’re like crap, we’re too well matched, this is going nowhere, you’re a worthy opponent, the only one I can truly respect, blah blah and then they call a breather and Slade’s like hey kid, wanna grab a beer and Dick’s like yeah but only if you promise not to kill anyone. And Slade’s like ugh fine.

And then Slade’s all, look kid, its been fun but its time you went home to your real family and your real life, this isn’t you, you’re a hero, I can’t try and turn you into something you’re not, its Wrong. And Dick’s like….umm yeah, I know, I literally JUST said that, how hard did I hit you? And Slade’s like NO SHHH, DONT TRY AND ARGUE, GO, YOU GO NOW, GO ON, LIVE YOUR LIFE, YOU DONT BELONG HERE IN THE DARK WITH ME, YOU’RE ONE OF THE GOOD ONES, GO BACK TO YOUR OWN KIND.

And Dick’s like no seriously dude, I already called my dad to come pick me up, what are you even on right now, are we having the same conversation?

Slade, sobbing paternally: I HAVE TO LET YOU GO, ALL I EVER DO IS HURT MY KIDS, I’M A TERRIBLE FATHER, ITS NO WONDER JOEY HATES ME.

And then Dick awkwardly slips out while Slade’s mid monologue, with his head thrown back yelling up at the sky and shaking his fists like WHY GOD WHY IS THIS THE WORLD WE LIVE IN WHY - because the thing about Slade is he’s actually even MORE of a drama queen than Dick, he just hides it better. Most of the time. But seriously tho.

Anyway yeah, this is like…a pattern with them basically. And Slade’s like, you’ve inspired me, I see in you the man I could’ve become, maybe even that I can still be, and he like doubles down on his personal honor code and becomes a Mercenary With A Heart for a couple years and even helps out the Titans every now and then (basically just whenever Dick’s in trouble and he goes on a killing spree, like NOBODY IS ALLOWED TO MURDER MY KIDS BUT ME - also by this point in time, Joey had died because Slade literally killed him, I forget why, it was a dumb story, but its okay Joey came back, its not like his name is Uncle Ben. But yeah, killing his kids is kinda a thing with Slade too, and he’s very proprietary about it).

And then he falls off the wagon and is like fuck, I forgot how much I like murder, ugh, you should have never tried to make me change, THIS IS WHO I AM, and Dick’s just like….I literally do not know where you’re getting these conversations from, like am I there when you think we’re having them, am I just blacking out…do I need to see a doctor??? And Slade’s like YOU WILL RUE THE DAY YOU EVER MET ME, GRAYSON, FROM NOW ON I AM THE TITANS’ MORTAL ENEMY and runs off all dramatically while Dick’s like…..wut, and all the other Titans are like srsly, dude, what is WITH you too, and Dick’s all I DON’T EVEN KNOW, HE’S JUST LIKE THAT.

In all seriousness though, ultimately my take on their dynamic is that for Slade, Dick’s a combination of seeing himself and Grant in Bruce and Dick’s dynamic, and its like….all about his regret and missed opportunities. Like, he tends to be super judgey of Bruce and critical of how he trains (and raises Dick) and passive aggressively like *I* would never do that and Dick just kinda lifts an eyebrow and is all, you’ve literally killed two of your three kids. 

But like, Slade kinda views himself as the anti-Batman and thus Dick is inadvertently cast as Grant, but its like Slade can never decide if he thinks Bruce is actually holding Dick back from his full potential and he wants to push Dick the way he thinks Bruce refuses to, or if like, he blames Bruce for getting Dick involved in this life, the same life that got Grant killed, and wants to protect Dick from Bruce and from the same thing happening to him. So its this weird mix of Slade manipulating Dick sometimes and pushing him way further than even Bruce ever does and saying its for his own good, but also randomly mixed in there are these bouts of extreme protectiveness, and there’s like zero rhyme or reason to which he is on any given day and there’s never any way to predict where Slade will land and so it always fucks with Dick’s head in a big way, he’s like…I’m getting whiplash.

And then on Dick’s end, like, the thing about Dick like I’ve mentioned before is he’s a huge people pleaser? Like he’s a very empathetic caretaker type personality who sinks a huge amount of his identity into being everything for everyone, to the extent that he tends to lose sight of himself in the process, sometimes. And he’s also a perfectionist who was raised with the most demanding father of all demanding fathers ever, and has a lot of abandonment issues and insecurities that Bruce’s mutant power is to trip over and set off in the worst possible ways.

And so I think the reason Dick keeps seeking Slade out every now and then is not because he ACTUALLY wants to ever take Slade up on his offer and genuinely become his apprentice or partner and like, turn his back on how he was raised. I think the point of it for Dick is the fact that each and every time he ends up affirming for himself no, wait, this ISN’T actually what I want, I just needed to be reminded of that, to remember that. That he always pulls himself back before going too far. And at the same time, I do think on some level he likes that Slade is this kinda constant in his life, that at the end of the day Slade is like…so fixated on his potential and his achievements and his worth as a fighter and a hero, because like….Dick Grayson is a person who craves validation but will never ask for it ever. 

And he’s one of those people who everyone is just so USED to liking without even thinking about it that it never occurs to them when talking amongst themselves about how great he is, that they forget to say this to his actual face? And so he never hears it? And never asks for it, because gasp, then people might think he’s needy, and that would be bad, so he mostly just goes and sulks in his apartment about how nobody likes him and he’s terribad. Except for Slade. Slade always compliments him on what a good fighter and what a good planner and what a good leader he is, so hmm wonder what he’s doing. He hasn’t committed any crimes in six months and I can’t find any reason to track him down and bring him in? Ugh, that asshole. Okay, ummm, I guess I could tell him I’m thinking of turning evil again, I haven’t done that in a couple years, he’d probably buy it.

And then later Bruce is pacing around the Batcave wrathfully shaking his fist, like “Damn that man and his sick hold over my son, if only I knew how he keeps getting his hooks into you!”

And Dick basically shrugs and plays games on his phone. “He mostly just tells me I’m special, and that’s nice to hear.”

Bruce, still pacing and ranting and fist shaking: “What kind of evil genius is he, how master a manipulator he must be to be able to get inside your head and upend your normal views of right and wrong, to make you entertain these ideas of working with him, learning from him…”

Dick: No its seriously just the saying nice things about me bit. I like that.

Bruce: If only I had a code word or phrase I could use to snap you out of whatever brainwashing he seems to be able to affect you with any time you come near him, perhaps some kind of alien tech….

Dick: You could try “I’m proud of you, son.” I mean if you’re taking suggestions.

Bruce: There’s also the possibility of a magical component to consider, blast, I hate working with magic so of course he WOULD do something like that, ugh I suppose I could ask Zatanna or Jason Blood for help there…

Dick: Cool cool, well this has been a fun and productive chat as always, so you keep doing…all that…and meanwhile I’m gonna go ponder my fixation on father figures who are 100% more committed to obsessing over their failures as a parent than like…actual parenting of their actual kids.

Bruce, ten minutes later: Dick? Where are you? DID SLADE GET TO YOU AGAIN? RIGHT UNDER MY NOSE? CURSE THAT MAN AND HIS UNNATURAL SKILLS, HOW DOES HE DO IT??!?

Anyway, that’s Slade and Dick. There’s also the whole Renegade thing, when Dick asked for Slade’s help in infiltrating the Society of Super Villains in his fake villain identity as Renegade, with you know, lots of Slade trying to corrupt him and also trying to murder any supervillains who looked as his not!son the wrong way. 

And then there was the time Slade brought his daughter Rose to Dick to train and said he couldn’t teach her himself because his track record with training his kids and them not ending up dead is like, not good, and he’s superstitious or something? Idk, I forget his logic, it was probably bad though.

And Slade was like, I only trust you to be a competent teacher for my daughter, I want you to teach her everything you know! Except for like, being a hero. None of that nonsense. I FORBID you from trying to make my daughter into a hero or the deal is off. (The deal being that if Dick did this, Slade would not do crime in Dick’s city for a year).

And Dick was like, you got a deal. I will train Rose but there will be NO trying to make her a hero, I swear. /he said while crossing his fingers behind his back because duh.

And Slade was like okay, fine, you got a deal, I will absolutely still do crime and be villainous but only in every place except for Bludhaven specifically. /he said while crossing his fingers behind his back because duh.

And then Dick tried to make Rose a hero and then Slade blew up Bludhaven and that was definitely a thing, so…yeah.

In summation, Slade and Dick are weird but also very interesting but also if we get another rehash of the Renegade/apprentice arc aka the Teen Titans cartoon adaptation of that story aka the single most popular Dick Grayson fic trope of all time, like….I swear I will probably get a brain bleed.

[such-a-common-girl]

“Irresistible” Chapter 5 Dean Winchester x Reader

Words: 2,886

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Language, smut, oral sex (fem. receiving), fluff, gun use, threats of being shot, angst

a/n: omg im sorry it took me forever to get this chapter out but ITS WORTH IT I PROMISE

ch. 1  ch. 2   ch. 3  ch. 4  

“Oh my, fuck,” You moan out, tangling your hands in Dean’s hair as he moves his tongue up and down your clit.

“Dean, yes,” You start to roll your hips. Dean grabs on to your thighs to hold you down, flicking his tongue at a faster pace. You can feel the familiar heat rising up in your lower area, indicating that your orgasm is near. You bring your hand up to your breasts, playing with your nipple as Dean now enters two fingers inside of you as well.

The pleasure is almost too much to handle. He really knows what he is doing.

“I’m coming, oh god, yes,” You yell out, and release yourself over him. Dean gets up from between your thighs, a smile plastered on his face.

“I will never get tired of this.” Dean smirks, bringing himself up on top of you.

It’s only seven in the morning, but Dean recently has been waking you up more often than not quite pleasurably. Whether it be sex or him eating you out like you’re candy, mornings have proven to be amazing with this man.

Lately, Dean’s been staying at your house while he was in town, which was not very often anymore. He basically moved in- he even has a key to the house and extra clothes for when he stays over. He’s been extremely busy with work lately, so anytime he had at home, he spent it with you. Whether that be at your house, or out going on dates, you’re spending almost all of your time together.

You love him, you know this. Who couldn’t love this man? He’s perfect in every way possible. He’s treated you better than any man has ever treated you before. You know there are things about his past that he is keeping from you, but you know that it’s for a reason. Ever since that talk you two had a few months ago, you haven’t brought it up since. He’ll tell you whenever he is ready.

“Don’t go to work today.” Dean breathes out, lying down next to you in bed. His hand is playing with your hair, and his other hand was rubbing circles on your stomach.

“If I miss another day of work to stay at home and have sex with you, I think my boss will fire me.” You laugh. “She’s lenient, but not that much.”

“Baby, one more day and I won’t ask again. I have to leave tomorrow morning with Sam and I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, and I’ll have to stay at my house tonight since we’re leaving early. I’ll come over after you get off but that’s not nearly enough time to do to you what I want.” Dean whines.

“Why don’t you skip work this time, huh?” You tease, knowing very well that he can’t. “Actually be home for more than a week at a time.”

“Would if I could, but I’ve got people to save.” Dean smiles, kissing your forehead. “Vampires are nasty sons of bitches.”

“I’m sorry?” You give Dean a look, pulling away from him slightly.

Did he just say vampires?

“It was a joke.” Dean says quickly, panic spreading throughout his face. “Sometimes we, uh, we call criminal ‘vampires’. You know, because they normally only commit crimes at night. FBI lingo, sorry. Sometimes I forget you’re not… one of us.” A weak smile crosses his face.

“You agents are odd.” You laugh. “I’m still not calling in to work, though.”

“Damn.” Dean groans, and pulls you closer to him.

“I’m going to be late if I don’t get out of bed now. I need to shower still.” You say, but don’t make any effort to move yourself out of Dean’s grasp.

“I’ll only let you go if I can shower with you.”

~

“So, tell me about this man of yours. Dean, right?” Your coworker, another nurse named Amanda, asks you from across the nurse’s station. You two were both on your lunch break, and since she was the only other nurse you really talked to, you two usually spent yours together. You would even go as far as considering the two of you friends.

“Yeah, Dean. He’s great.” You admit, taking a bite of your sandwich. “He’s so sweet, Mandy. He brought me flowers the other day. He claimed he wasn’t the romantic type, but he’s surely contradicting himself.”

“I just think it’s the cutest thing ever that you’re his first actual girlfriend and he’s, what, thirty nine?” Amanda raises her eyebrows. “And by that picture you showed me of him, he’s a fuckin’ catch. You seemed to tie down the player, huh?”

“I suppose.” You shrug. “We’re not exactly official, I guess. He promised me that he’s not with any other girls, but that he just needed time. He’s got a lot of baggage, I guess.”

“You two have been seeing each other for almost six months now, and you aren’t official? And you haven’t met his brother or his friends? Or been to his house? Or know anything about his personal life?” She frowns. “That doesn’t make you nervous?”

“No, I trust him. He’s genuine, and he’s truthful. He told me how it was and was honest with me from the beginning, and assured me that he just needed time. I trust him.” You repeat. You’re not sure if you’re trying to convince Amanda or yourself.

“I wish I had the same amount of trust in my man as you do. If Chris was out constantly for work, days at a time, I’d surely be afraid that he was cheating on me.” Amanda sighs. “But I’m glad that you can trust him.”

You smile at her, choosing not to respond. The thought has crossed your mind, but like you said, you trust him. He wouldn’t lie to you, right?

You finish up your sandwich and throw your trash away just in time for your lunch break to be over. Only six more hours until you can see Dean. Seven couldn’t come soon enough.

“Good luck with your patient in thirty seven, he was an asshole to me the entire time you were on break.” Another nurse, Nia, says to you.

“Yeah, should’ve warned you, he’s-“

“EVERYONE PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR, RIGHT FUCKING NOW!” A man comes up to the desk, dressed in black and with a black ski mask covering his face, holding a handgun towards you three.

Fear instantly sinks into your chest, and your heart begins to race. Out of instinct, you reach your hand to the red “emergency” button on your desk that alerted security to come.

You raise your hands up in the air, backing away from the man. You feel like crying, you’re so afraid, but you refuse. You don’t want to show the man holding a gun at you that you’re afraid.

“Where is Johnathan Lee?” He screamed, shaking the gun and making you jump. “I know he’s a fucking patient here, where the fuck is he? If you don’t tell me, I will shoot you.”

“There is no Johnathan Lee here.” Your voice comes out shaky. You hope that he can’t tell that you’re lying. There was, in fact, a Johnathan Lee here. He was the patient that came in on a drug overdose. But you weren’t going to let him get shot. “He got transferred out of this unit yesterday.”

“You’re a fucking liar! I’m giving you one more chance to tell me before I shoot.” He cocks his head at you, and you begin to panic.

“I told you, he was transferred yesterday.”

A gunshot rung out in the air, and you swear you could feel it barely miss you. It hit the cabinet behind you, and you were right- it just barely missed you.

“Put the gun down!” A police officer yells. You look over to him, and an entire team of officers were coming in. The armed man pointed the gun towards the officers, and suddenly it was a standoff.

“Put the gun down, now.” Another officer says. “We know who you are. So just put down the gun, and no one is going to get hurt.”

After some thinking, the man puts down the gun. You breathe a sigh of relief, a weight lifted off your chest. You’ve never genuinely thought you might die before.

The officers immediately put the man in cuffs, and take him out. They question you some, but you’re too shaken up to remember any of the conversation. You remember that they vaguely told you something about more people coming in to ask you questions.

“You can go home, Y/N. You deserve it.” Your boss comes up to you, patting your shoulder and handing you a glass of water. “Amanda and Nia went home hours ago.”

“Police told me to stay here. Said people would be coming to ask me more questions.” You say, taking a drink of the water she gave you.

As if on que, a man and a woman wearing FBI uniforms come up to you and your boss. You instantly remember Dean, and are desperate to go home and see him. You need to see him right now.

“FBI.” They show you their badges. “Are you Y/N?”

“Yes.”

“Do you mind if we ask you some questions?”

They go through some questions, things you presumed were the standard ones they must ask. You gathered from them that the man who came in here was a drug dealer who had sold to the patient that he came in to kill. The patient apparently didn’t pay him, and he was coming after revenge.

“We’re sorry you had to experience this, Miss. Is there anyone we can call for you to come pick you up? It’s helpful to have loved ones around you after a traumatizing experience like this.” The male agent tells you, sympathy in his eyes.

“Um, yeah. My… My boyfriend works for the FBI? Out of the office downtown? His name is Dean Winchester, can you call him for me? I forgot my phone at home this morning.” You say shakily.

“Give me one minute.” The man nods, and walks down the hallway.

You stand beside your chair in silence, waiting for the agent to return. He looks over at you, and calls his partner over to him. You start to get worried, and you walk over there to him.

“Is something wrong?” You question.

“Are you sure your boyfriend works out of this office here?” The woman says.

“I’m positive.”

“Um… There is not a Dean Winchester that works at our office, ma’am. I just searched our entire list of employees and he is not listed for our city, or anywhere in Kansas for that matter.”

Your mouth goes dry.

“Look again.” You say after a few moments of silence.

“Ma’am, I looked twice already, he isn’t-“

“Look again.” You snap. The tears are already threatening to spill from your eyes, and this time, they might win.

You knew Dean was keeping things from you, that wasn’t a secret. But blatantly lying about his job? You can’t do this. Not today.

“He’s not listed.” The female agent says again.

“Thank you for your time.” You walk away from them, stomping over to the workers longue to grab your purse so you can leave.

As soon as you get into the room, you fall onto the floor and start crying. You can’t hold in it any longer. What has Dean told you that is the truth? Was it all a lie?

~

Tonight was the night.

It’s the night that Dean was finally going to make it official. He was going to ask you to be his, one hundred percent. You would officially be his girlfriend.

He wasn’t ready to tell you the full truth yet- no. Not because he doesn’t want to tell you (okay, maybe he doesn’t- it does make him look utterly psycho if you were to not believe him), but because you weren’t ready for that. He was doing it for your own good.

But a relationship? Fuck, Dean wanted that with you so badly. He tried to put this off as long as possible, trying to convince himself that it wouldn’t work. That he can’t do this with you. But the more time he’s spending with you, the more he realizes how much he cares for you. It was only this morning that Dean realized that he loved you. When he genuinely wanted to spend the entire day with you, and not just for sex (although that was in the plan as well.) He knew that his feelings were growing stronger by the day for you, but that confirmed it for him. He loves you.

He was going to tell you that tonight, too.

Dean has it all set out. He was going to take you out to the diner that he had taken you to on your first date, even order the same thing. Then he was going to take you back to your house and watch The Walking Dead with you, because he knows how much you love that show and you’re always trying to get him to watch it with you.

He didn’t exactly have a set time for when he was going to tell you he loved you, but he figured it would come out at some point during the night.

Dean loves you, and he’ll do anything to show that to you.

“Of course she forgot her phone here.” Dean rolls his eyes as he walks into your house, seeing you weren’t home yet. “I hope she gets here soon.”

~

You have no idea how you got home without getting into a car accident.

Your mind was running wild, and tears were clouding your vision. You weren’t paying attention to the road one bit.

“Fuck.” You curse when you see Dean’s impala in your driveway. He was the last person you wanted to see right now. You had already called your sister to see if she could come stay with you for a while, or vice versa- you just wanted to get away from everything for a while.

You park your car, getting out and walking to your door. You walk inside to see Dean playing with your dog, acting like everything is good in the world.

“Hey- woah, what’s wrong?” Dean gets up, rushing over to you.

“I had an… interesting day at work.” You fake smile at him.

“Bad?”

“We’ll get to that later. I wanna hear about your day at work. What’d you do?” You ask him, and he’s obviously startled by the question. Asking him about his job was typically off limits, since everything he did was ‘top secret’ and he could get fired if he told anyone, or at least that’s what he told you.

“It was a pretty slow day, just did some paperwork. Nothing much.” Dean says slowly. “You’re freaking me out, tell me what’s wrong.”

“So, nothing happen today, huh? No bad guys to catch?”

“Like I said, it was a slow day. Everyone stayed around the office for the most part.”

“Hm. Interesting.” You say, setting your purse down on the floor and walking past him. “Let me tell you about my day at work. It was going great, until a man came in and shot at me.”

“What the fuck-“

“Let me finish.” You snap. “He missed. Obviously. The FBI came in to question me, though. Wanna know what I learned from them? That you’re not an agent! How fucking weird is that?”

“Y/N, I can explain-“

“Oh, I would love to hear this explanation.” You snort. “Let me guess- it’s complicated? I wouldn’t understand? You have a lot of baggage? Well, here’s the thing- I’m over that. I’m tired of the secrecy, and apparently, the lies as well! I fucking love you, you know that? I thought you might love me too, but you obviously don’t.”

“No, no, no, Y/N, I love you, too. So goddamn much. Please just let me-“

“Tell me everything. Now. Or I’m done.”

“I can’t, fuck, Y/N, please just trust me…”

“You lost your trust. So, if you’re not going to tell me, get out of my fucking house.”

Dean looks at you, hurt filling his eyes. You’re hurt, too. You want to just burst out crying, you love Dean so much. Ever since you first met him. But you can’t do this, not unless you get the truth from him.

He just shakes his head and walks out the door, slamming it behind him. You fall to your knees in front of the door, letting the tears fall out once more. He left. He chose his secrets and lies over you.

But little did you know, Dean was still at the other side of the door, tears falling down his face, too.

~

Ch. 6

a/n: ok ok ok ok ok ok please don’t hate me I promise it will get better like omfg im sorry but i promise!

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