#why is my phone on 4% i didn’t do anything. i fucking hate apple

[streatfeild]

oh shit. i‘m drunk and yearning for human connection. oh god

[mypoisonedvine]

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 9 - FINALE)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

word count: 7.2k

warnings: smut (oral f receiving), semi-public sex (in a parked car) angst, arguments, implied smut, sappiness, time skips, some alcohol consumption here and there, lots of talking about issues including bucky's ptsd, I really have no idea how to warn for this but IT’S THE END SO STRAP IN FOLKS

Since that night, it had been like a stand-off in a Western movie, none of you saying anything because you had no idea what to say. Whenever he tried to start the conversation, you brushed him off.

You took a cab home from the event. He slept in his own room for the first time in months.

Finally, suddenly, you were ready to talk about it nearly 30 hours later, knocking on the guest room door and entering to find Bucky on his bed, re-reading Flowers for Algernon. He sat up quickly and shut it, setting it aside. “Hey,” he greeted softly, hesitant like you were a deer in a clearing and he was extending a handful of grain in his palm.

“Hey,” you returned, already fighting back your emotions. “I think I’m ready to talk.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “I’m ready to listen.”

“I just… I want to make sure that you understand this is a really big deal.”

He nodded again.

“I had to do a lot of damage control to prevent being banned from all HFPA events— that includes the Golden Globes, you know, I can’t exactly skip those just because my boyfriend went fucking nuts at a party.” And there was the anger again— you had tried to wait until you could be neutral about this but it barely lasted, mainly because you were still embarrassed about the way you’d handled yourself that night. “You’re lucky not many people saw; you’re lucky no reporters were there! Can you imagine if someone had a fucking picture of this? There were cameras everywhere, what the fuck were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t thinking!” he defended. “I saw you with him and he was touching you and I just… I saw red.”

You sighed slowly. “That’s not a good thing. That’s really, really concerning.”

“I know, I agree— you’re right. I need…” he trailed off, taking a breath before starting over. “I need to work on that.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “I just… I can’t really be a part of that. You need to work on that on your own.”

He stood up instantly, almost looking… afraid? Terrified, really, and heartbroken. “On my own, like what? What does that mean?”

“It means that I think maybe you should go back to your own apartment for a while. I just… need to be alone for a bit.”

“You need to be alone?” he repeated. “Or you need to be away from me?’

“Both.”

His head fell into his hands instantly. "Please don't tell me I fucked this up," he whimpered. "Please don't tell me I ruined this."

"I— I don't know."

"Please, please, please," he sighed, just louder than a whisper, suddenly stepping forward, grabbing your hand and clutching it to his chest. "Look at me," he begged.

You did, hesitantly, fighting everything in you that wanted to cry (and not doing so good of a job at it).

"Please, I lo—"

"Don't," you grimaced. "Don't say that."

"But it's true."

"It doesn't matter!" you yelped, surprising both of you with your volume.

“Are we going to have a chance to talk about this again? Am I going to get a chance to make it up to you?”

“You don’t make it up to me, you fix it. And that takes time.”

He shook his head, looking shocked and confused and completely blindsided which made you feel sick to your stomach. “How long?”

“I don’t know…” you mumbled.

“Am I not going to see you at all, for however long it takes?” he pressed.

“I… that’s sort of the idea.”

He shivered and pulled you into a hug. “Please don’t hate me forever,” he whispered against the top of your head.

“I don’t hate you,” you promised, doing your best not to hug him back even though all you wanted was to wrap yourself around him and feel safe in his arms again.

“Then don’t make me go,” he pleaded as he pulled back, clutching your face. “Let me stay and we can work through this together.”

“That’s not how this works,” you reminded him

“But I don’t know how to be without you,” he explained shakily.

“That’s not really my problem!” you yelped, and he turned away like he’d been slapped, dropping his hands from your face. A long, heavy silence fell between you as you watched him stand there, contemplating.

“If this is my last chance,” he finally spoke softly, barely breaking the silence, “to say everything I want to say…”

“It’s not,” you assured. “We’re going to talk about this again, but you need to go now.”

He nodded, his adam’s apple bobbing with a swallow of nothing. When he looked at you again, you hated how much bluer his eyes looked when they were bloodshot and filled with tears. “Can I kiss you?”

You shook your head. He bit his lip and turned to walk away; you stared at your feet because you couldn’t watch him go.

You heard him grab his backpack, shoving a few things from the drawers into it; he set his key on the table, walked into the open hall, and as soon as you heard the front door open and shut you were plunged into solitude and silence. With a whimper, you crumpled to the floor and cried, the look of betrayal on his face burned into your mind.

It was obvious, to your horror, that he really hadn’t seen it coming; he hadn’t packed his things, or prepared in any way for the conversation going like that. He had been waiting for an olive branch and got a switch to the face instead. You didn’t know anything about working on relationships, repairing broken things… when something went wrong, all you knew how to do was bail.

You knew how to do a new take and say the line right this time. You knew how to take off your eyeliner and start over. You knew how to kick unsuspecting C-listers out of cars because you already got yours. But you didn’t know how to stay, and work, and frankly you were just too scared to try. Last time you tried to make it work, you got burned. And as much as a logical part of you knew that wasn’t Bucky’s fault or responsibility, your heart just couldn’t survive another relationship where you put everything into putting the pieces back together while the other person stood there and watched you just to pull them apart again.

It had to end at some point, right? It was you, it was him… and that’s just how these things go.

//

He knew it was too good to be true. He knew you were too good for him. Anybody with at least one eyeball and half a brain could see that. But still, he hadn’t been ready to let you go.

Being in his apartment felt like stopping in a ghost town; there might as well have been a tumbleweed rolling through the living room. It was beyond a bachelor pad: it was more like an unfinished work site, considering his ‘couch’ was cinderblocks and a few two-by-fours, and his bed was a mattress on the floor.

One toothbrush. No books. A half-empty shampoo bottle in the shower and some hard water stains he needed to scrub away at some point.

This place didn’t feel like a home, it barely felt like a livable space. It was a three-dimensional homage to how empty his life had been before you, and he realized that was only his own fault.

Then again, this was all his fault.

But still, he had let himself obsess over you, turn you into his whole world and it made him into somebody he didn’t want to be. He had been working so hard to keep you happy, inspired more than anything by his fear to lose you, that he’d forgotten to give you space and now here he was… giving you so much more space than he ever wanted to, or knew how to deal with.

But he wanted to use this, if he could. As much as it was tempting to binge on junk food, drink too much and watch porn for an hour, as much as he wanted to run away from everything he was feeling, he owed it to you and to himself to face it all and learn from it. He wanted to be the man you deserved, if that was even humanly possible; he wanted to be who you used to think he was.

//

The next week went by in a blur: a blur filled with shitty romcoms, Ben & Jerry’s straight from the carton, and phone calls ignored.

It would all be fine with time, you knew that, but god, it fucking hurt now. It made you want to call him and at least apologize for having sex with him when you knew he wouldn’t have wanted to if he knew you were upset. More time and distance from the situation made you appreciate that it was manipulative, even if it by no means justified the way he grabbed you, or shoving anybody in the first place.

Truth was, you were scared of Bucky long before that happened. You were scared of how strong your feelings were for him; and, in turn, you were scared of how strong his feelings were for you. You felt loved by him, and you didn’t know what to do with that. So you self-destructed.

Just in time to tear you out of your spiralling thoughts, the intercom buzzed from the front gate. You furrowed your brow, wondering who it could be, and got up to check the camera feed.

You couldn’t see the face of the driver, just his arm, but you’d recognize that Rolex on his wrist anywhere.

“What do you want?” you asked coldly, holding down the intercom talk button.

"Let me in," Sam instructed.

"And why should I?"

"Cause if you don't, I'll press charges against your boyfriend."

BEEP BEEP BEEP! the gate announced its opening.

You took the time while he parked his car and walked to the door to throw out the wrappers from all your questionable “meals” (i.e., candy and ramen), change into slightly nicer sweats and splash your face so you looked slightly less dead. Just as you came downstairs from your rushed primping, Sam knocked on the door and you turned off the TV, tossing the remote aside. “It’s open!” you called out.

He turned the knob and stepped in with just one foot, peering around.

“Is the Terminator home?” he asked coyly. “Cause I actually think I’ve been assaulted enough for one week.”

“No, he’s gone. And don’t call him that.”

“What?” he shrugged, finally coming all the way in and letting the door swing shut on its own, taking his shades off and sliding them into the collar of his v-neck shirt. “It’s a compliment, and you really invite the killer robot comparisons when you’re part robot, look like a killer, and act like a thug.”

“He’s sensitive about the arm, okay? It’s one of the reasons he… it’s part of why we waited so long to go public.”

Sam glanced down to beside the door, where three pairs of your shoes were haphazardly lined up while his boots were noticeably absent. “And the fact that he’s moved out? When’s that gonna go public?” He always had an eye for these things, the bastard.

“I… I don’t know,” you sighed. “What do you want, exactly? Because honestly, I really can’t handle you right now.”

“I’m just trying to be a friend,” he explained, stepping closer again as you leaned against the breakfast bar.

“You seemed a lot more than friendly on Saturday,” you reminded him. “God, Sam, why did you have to do that?”

“So it’s my fault, then?” he rolled his eyes.

“No, of course not,” you assured, “but you knew I wasn’t single. I was actually happy… did you even want me back? Or did you just want to fuck with my life?”

“I did want you back, really.” He paused for a moment, more serious than he almost ever got. “I still do.”

You scoffed, looking away. “What happened to just being a friend?”

“That’s not why I’m here, this time. I’m just here to tell you that I’m worried about you.”

You took your weight off the bar and circled it into the kitchen, Sam mirroring you by following around the other side. “Do you want something to drink?” you asked, opening the fridge. He opened his mouth to answer but then leaned in as he stared at your hand where it was right in front of his face gripping the refrigerator’s door handle.

"He did that to you?" Sam pointed to the bruise on your wrist. You let go of the fridge and pulled your sleeve down to cover it again but that was answer enough. "Jesus, babe, this guy's fucking crazy."

"He's not crazy, and don't call me that," you frowned. "I don't think he meant to, really— his prosthetic is powerful and it was in need of a recalibration. He shouldn’t have grabbed me, but, he probably didn’t mean to do it so hard.”

Sam didn’t seem too convinced by that explanation, but didn’t say anything.

“Believe it or don’t, Sam, but either way it’s none of your business,” you frowned.

“Right, I know,” he nodded. “I just want what’s best for you.”

“And that’s you?” you pressed with an incredulous raised brow, opening the fridge again to grab yourself a green juice (because you were, again, trying to look like you had your shit together) and starting to walk away.

“I’ve changed, believe it or not,” he explained as he followed you out of the kitchen again. “Occasionally, people are capable of that.”

“If that’s true, then I owe it to Bucky to wait for him like I said I would,” you shot back. “I told him to leave so we could work on things separately. Not so I could entertain your come-to-Jesus moment.”

“It’s not a ‘come-to-Jesus’ moment, it’s just a ‘give me another chance’ moment,” he corrected as you took a long sip of the juice, “it’s a ‘maybe we ended things too soon’ moment.”

You looked at him in silent judgment as you kept drinking, and the way he was looking at you made you glad the glass bottle was keeping your lips occupied.

“It’s an ‘I’m still in love with you’ moment.”

Before you could stop yourself, you spit the juice right onto him, covering your mouth in shock just a moment too late.

For one of those indefinite moments, you were just staring at each other while you both contemplated that you had said he loved you and you had spat juice onto him.

“Okay, I was prepared to get shot down,” he admitted. “This is… worse.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you rushed, trying not to laugh, “I… I’ll get some paper towels, I can get you a new shirt, but it’ll have to be one of the ones Bucky left behind…”

“Oh god, it’s sticky,” he grimaced, as he tried to peel his shirt from his skin, “can I just use your shower maybe?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you nodded, “upstairs and down—”

“I remember where it is,” he reminded you as he stepped past you to make his way to the bathroom. “I knew I should’ve waited to say it until she was done drinking…” you heard him mumble to himself before he disappeared and you heard the bathroom door shut.

But truthfully, it wasn’t really the fact that he said it, or the concept of Sam loving you at all that made you spit out your drink. It was that when he said it, you realized you were in love with Bucky. Which, yes, would’ve been obvious to anyone else but it came as quite a shock to you.

It made you realize that you wanted to make this work. You wanted to be vulnerable, you wanted to try, even if it ended just as badly as it nearly had last week; even if it meant dealing with all the shit that you’d pushed down for so long.

You wanted to have another chance, this time knowing how hard it would be to be without him.

Just as you pondered what to do with that realization, a knock at the door startled you. Who could have made it to the door without buzzing the intercom?

Somebody who has the gate code already, you realized, and your heart sank. You weren’t ready to see him again— specifically, you weren’t ready to be seen by him again. Sure, cleaning up the trash and splashing your face was enough for a guest like Sam, but you had been imagining that when you saw Bucky again you’d be all dolled up looking like you were doing better than ever, like you were thriving without him just to rub it in that you were the best he ever had.

Couldn’t he have just waited a few hours after your realization so you could go to him on your own terms, with your whole speech prepared and everything? As an actress, you were much more comfortable reading lines than improvising.

Another knock made you sigh and set down the half-empty bottle of green juice, running up to the door to answer it.

“Hi,” he greeted soberly when you opened the door.

“Hey,” you nodded back, “listen, now’s not a great time…”

“Listen, I’m not here to cause any problems, or ask you for anything, I just need some of my stuff back,” he explained.

“Okay, it would’ve been better if you had come at another time—”

“I know, I’m not trying to invade your space,” he sighed. “I shouldn’t have used the gate code, I didn’t mean to surprise you, honestly it was just second nature but I realize now I should’ve called first— well, I don’t think you’re taking my calls right now—”

“Bucky, please, we can talk later,” you assured, trying to shut the door.

“Can we?” he sighed. “I mean, will we?”

“Yes, but I’m busy right now,” you explained.

“When?” he asked, voice full of hope. “Soon?”

“I— I don’t know, sure,” you shrugged.

“You’re just saying that to get me to leave,” he realized flatly. “I understand, I don’t blame you— god, I just hate how scared you are of me. I’m everything I never wanted to be. I just wanted to keep you safe and now I can’t even do that, now you think of me as a threat. You should have the gate code changed, if it’ll make you sleep better—”

“I sleep fine, just go and we’ll deal with all of this soon— really, I promise!”

“You promised before and this week without you has been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do!” he returned, getting more emotional as he gestured with his hands. “I’m not saying this should all go away in a week, there’s so much more I have to do, but… but not being able to see you at all is killing me. And it’s not like I don’t see you, your movies are on every fucking channel, but you know, I don’t get to really see you, talk to you— that’s what I miss, I miss when we would talk for hours.”

“I miss that too,” you agreed, “it’s all going to happen, it’s just that I need you to go right now—”

And of course, Sam picked just the right time to come running down your staircase with only a towel around his waist.

Bucky tensed up as he saw Sam, jaw tightening. "Oh."

You had no idea what would happen. Was Bucky going to attack him again? Would Sam try to hit Bucky? Were you going to drop dead from sheer embarrassment?

Instead, Bucky just sighed a little and looked to the ground, almost laughing though he seemed anything but amused. “You’ve got a funny idea of what ‘being alone’ means,” he sneered.

“Sam was just—” you began to defend.

"No, it’s okay, I see how it is," Bucky informed you quietly, coldly. He didn’t even seem angry anymore, just defeated. "I'll leave. I'm sorry that I… I'm sorry."

And he turned to leave, you reached out and grabbed his arm. "Wait, it's not—"

He shrugged your hand away as he kept walking, forcing you to chase him.

"Don't leave, please— Bucky, I love you too."

He stopped, but didn't turn around yet; you just stood behind him, staring at his back as it rose and fell with a slow breath. When he looked back at you, his eyes were red, brimming with tears and heartbreak. "Don't say things you don't mean."

"I mean it," you promised.

“And what does that mean for us?”

“I… I don’t know,” you admitted.

“I don’t think I’m ready to come back yet. As much as I miss living with you— and as much as my apartment is so gross—”

You giggled a little, glad you could laugh with him again even if just for a second.

“I need more time. I’m not going to subject you to me until I know I can be… stable, again.”

“Okay,” you smiled. “Whatever you need.”

“But maybe we could… go out sometime? Somewhere where there aren’t paparazzi, ideally?”

“Uh, Vermont?” you offered jokingly. “I’ll find somewhere, though. We’ll talk this all out.”

He nodded slowly, swallowing a little. “Okay.”

With obvious hesitance, he leaned in slightly and gave you a kiss on the forehead. You wanted more than anything to get up on your tiptoes and kiss his lips, but it was probably too soon. He smiled down at you slightly before he turned to walk away, and you did the same as you made it back into the house.

“Hey, listen,” you began as you found Sam still waiting in a towel looking completely lost.

“That doesn’t sound like the beginning of good news,” he sighed.

“I’m so glad you were honest with me and I’m still really sorry for spitting on you, and for Bucky shoving you, and for everything awful that went down between us. And some part of me is always gonna love you, but—”

“I know,” he nodded, clearly disappointed but resigned in a peaceful way. “It’s okay. I had my chance, I blew it, and if this Bucky guy has his then I just hope he isn’t taking it for granted.”

You smiled a little. “He’s not.”

“Then I’ll get dressed and go. Please direct me to his favorite shirt, so that I may steal it,” he requested formally, making you laugh, but you weren’t ready to let it go just yet; instead, you stepped forward and pulled him into a hug.

“You’re a good friend, Sam,” you mumbled against his bare chest.

“Yeah, kinda wish I wasn’t though,” he sighed as he hugged you back.

“Kinda wish I’d made you get dressed before hugging you,” you admitted, the awkwardness of his nudity finally catching up with you.

“Yeah…” he agreed in a whispered sigh.

//

His palms were actually sweaty; well, at least one of them was. He hadn’t been this worked up about a date since high school.

But there was so much more riding on that now than there was then. If he blew this, you probably would dump him for good, and he’d become ‘that guy Y/N Y/L/N dated for a minute’ to the rest of the world.

And there was so much more to him than that— he was learning to really let that shine after three weeks of therapy on Mondays and Thursdays— and so much more to his relationship with you, but it would still be pretty humiliating. More importantly, he would be heartbroken if he never got a chance to hold you again, kiss you again, tell you he loved you not during a fight…

His eyes glanced to the door instinctively when someone stepped in, but it still wasn’t you. He checked his watch and closed his eyes: it was still a few minutes early, you probably wouldn’t be here until 6:30, since that was when you’d agreed to meet when you discussed all this over text. But the length of time between 6:27 and 6:30 just seemed to keep getting longer and longer.

When you finally walked in, it was like one of those movie moments where everything slowed down, the ambient noise and background music faded away, and all he could see was you. If this was it, at least he got to see you like this one last time.

He waved you over, watching you walk closer and feeling his heart race as you pulled him into a hug.

“I missed you,” he blurted out right away.

“Missed you too,” you mumbled back, pulling from the embrace as he moved to pull out your chair for you.

“So,” he began as he sat down, “do you… want me to go first? Or do you want to go first?”

“I love you,” you said instantly, and he couldn’t fight a wide smile.

“I love you too,” he whispered back.

“Now that that’s out of the way,” you grinned, “I think you should go first.”

“Well, now that you say that suddenly I forget everything I’ve been practicing in the mirror all day,” he chuckled. “I already told you I’ve been in therapy, and they finally got me on stuff for my PTSD… it feels weird to say it, to talk about it like I really have it… but I do, and I’m working on not being ashamed of that. What I am ashamed of is the way I treated you that day, how I let my anger get the best of me and how I hurt you when you’re the most important person in my life. You didn’t deserve that. And if I haven’t said it enough, I’m truly sorry.”

“I know,” you nodded, “thank you. I’m glad you’re getting help… I don’t want to see you like that for your own sake, too.”

“Just because you don’t hate me doesn’t mean you have to forgive me. And just because you forgive me doesn’t mean you have to take me back,” he reminded you softly.

“But I do forgive you, and I do want you back,” you promised. “And I want to apologize, too, for the things I did wrong… obviously it’s basically impossible for me to hurt you physically, you’re so much stronger than I am, but I hurt you with how I handled some things and I regret that.”

“It did hurt, but I still reacted poorly at basically every turn. I shouldn’t have gotten jealous of Sam in the first place, if you and him have something going on then that’s none of my business—”

“Of course it’s your business, Bucky, you’re my boyfriend!” you laughed. “You don’t need to be jumping for joy when I talk to my ex, you just need to not be that aggressive about it.”

“Am I your boyfriend?” he asked sheepishly. “Is he your ex?”

"When you came over the other day, and he was there… nothing happened, really. He came over, I told him I didn't want to be anything more than friends, he asked to use my shower… I don't know how to prove it to you—"

"You don't have to," he shook his head. "If you say nothing happened, then nothing happened."

“I mean, we hugged,” you remembered. “And he took your Fleetwood Mac shirt.”

“He what?” Bucky yelped, but then calmed himself down immediately. “Whatever, it’s fine, the point is that I have a lot of shit I still need to work on. Because the truth is, you’re not mine—”

“No, I—”

“Really, you’re not. You’re your own person. That’s what made me fall in love with you in the first place, I love that you’re independent and strong and… maybe a little crazy, but you’re exactly who you need to be. You don’t belong to me.”

“I don’t mind belonging to you as long as it’s fair, Bucky; as long as we belong to each other.”

“Sweetheart, you always had me,” he laughed. “From day one.”

“Then let’s figure your shit out. Believe it or not, I’ve got shit too… commitment issues, abandonment issues, daddy issues—”

“Ooh, I have that one too!” he beamed, making you laugh. “You know, when I was talking to my therapist, she had me do this thing where I talked about my hopes and stuff and, I don’t know, maybe it’s dumb but I wanted us to do that. I want to know what you’re hoping for for this.”

“Okay,” you nodded, “well, I’m hoping that you’ll move back in soon but not right away, maybe in a few months? I want us to get better at being apart, it’ll come in handy when I have to go to far off places for filming and stuff.”

“Totally with you,” he agreed, “might have to start buying some real furniture for my place though.”

“What about you?” you prompted.

“I’m hoping that you still think I'm cute enough to put up with some of my crap," he smirked, "if not all of it."

"Definitely," you grinned.

“I’m hoping that in the future, if you’re upset, you’ll tell me and we can work it out, and then have make-up sex," he added.

“Deal,” you chuckled.

“And, if I’m being honest,” he continued, leaning in closer and lowering his voice, “I’m hoping that I can take you home tonight.”

It was so simple, but it made a shiver run down your spine. This distance had caused more than just your heart to grow fonder, and you were craving his touch more than ever. “Where’s home?” you asked coyly.

“It’s wherever you wanna go,” he purred. “Your place, my place, the back of your car—”

“That one,” you nodded eagerly, “definitely that one.”

//

You wanted to go right then and there but he made you sit through the whole dinner, with all the trappings of wining and dining, though for you it sometimes felt more like whining and dying because you needed him so bad you couldn't think. But he stayed patient, keeping up the conversation, asking more about a new project you were tentatively linked with, telling you more about the newest improvements to his prosthetic.

He picked up the check, which was absurd to you but he insisted, and escorted you to your car as if his intentions were just gentlemanliness even though you knew it was far worse than that.

He (gently) pinned you up against the side of the car, kissing you slowly, making you melt like it was no effort for him at all. As his lips made their way to your ear, he whispered to you darkly, "get in the back and spread your legs for me."

You were sure you'd never obeyed an instruction so fast, hopping in and happily watching him climb in behind you. He instantly knelt down between your spread legs, holding you by your thighs as he pushed your dress up, and you were already lifting your hips up to let him pull your panties down to your ankles.

"So eager," he whispered happily, kissing his way up one of your legs and never breaking his gaze away from yours. Your mouth fell slack as you watched him get higher and higher, closer to where you were already dripping with need. "Been wanting to do this since that night, however many months ago, where I had to watch somebody else do this to you," he admitted with a grin that nipped at your inner thighs. "I know I've tasted you a thousand times since then, but I wanted to do it here."

There was a lot you could say to that, but it was all lost to a gasp as he licked one long, thin stripe right across your entrance and over your clit. Already you were shaking and grabbing his hair— he'd grown it out just enough that you could really dig your fingers into it, but even so he kept his teasing pace.

He kept going, that slow and torturous cycle where just as your clit got some much-needed attention, he started back over at your leaking opening again.

"The fuck are you doing down there, trying to figure how many licks it takes to get to the center of a tootsie pop?" you finally groaned, making him chuckle at how demanding you'd become.

"I'm just making sure I do this right," he dismissed. "Want more, baby?"

"Please," you shuddered. "Need your tongue inside me."

He grinned and put you out of your misery, really latching his lips onto you now as he pushed his tongue inside and curled it against your g-spot. It was enough to make your back arch dramatically and your fingers clench on his hair, a little growl echoing out of his mouth and into your body in response.

Your legs were accidentally clamping down on his head each time he sucked on your clit, but he didn't seem to mind, if anything it egged him on.

"C-close, so close," you chanted our warning as his hands tightened on your thighs he gave wide laps to your throbbing button.

"Say you love me baby," he mumbled his demand against your skin.

"Bucky, yes, I love you," you whimpered. "Love you so much, fuck, I'm gonna come…"

He nodded as he wrapped his lips around your clit and kept sucking, harder than ever, until your whole body was literally quaking and you weren't sure if you had closed your eyes or if your vision just went black for a second. As if that weren't enough, he kept going until you had to push him off of you by his forehead, shivering and catching your breath as aftershocks rocked your body.

"You're so amazing," he groaned huskily as he sat up and pulled you into a rough kiss, the taste of your pleasure coating your tongue as it tangled with his. Just as you were about to reach down and attempt to operate his belt buckle with your tingling fingers, he pulled back from the kiss a moment too soon. "And now you get to drive yourself home," he grinned, patting you on the cheek reassuringly.

"What? That's it?!" you squawked.

"You just came so hard you nearly blacked out and you're asking me if that's it?" he smirked incredulously.

"I just thought you would want to, you know… go all the way," you explained, cringing at the immature phrase.

"Hey, I'm a gentleman, and this is still our first date," he reminded you.

"But aren't you, you know…?"

"Oh, I am," he nodded quickly, leaning in to bite at your neck. "Don't worry about me, princess, I can take care of myself." He chuckled at your whimper and pulled back to look right into your eyes. "But it's not about me, is it? You want my cock all for yourself, don't you?"

You nodded, making him giggle sweetly.

"Well, you're just gonna have to wait," he cooed, poking the tip of your nose with his finger and laughing harder at your needy whine. "We'll go out again next weekend and maybe if it goes well, it'll lead to something more, alright?"

"Okay," you sighed, "I can wait a week. I think."

He smiled and kissed you again, helping you pull your panties back up and rubbing your thigh appreciatively. "Goodnight," he whispered against your lips, slipping out of the car and shutting the door behind him.

You sighed and let your head fall back against the seat, watching out the window as he walked back to his bike. You hated to see him go, but you did love watching him walk away.

//

two years later…

“Will the Six Million Dollar Man be joining us?” Sam asked with a smirk as he glanced to the door of the bowling alley, checking to see if anyone had walked in.

“When he gets off of work,” you promised.

“Why do you call him that?” Natasha asked Sam innocently.

“You’ll see,” Sam promised, kissing his girlfriend on the cheek, but you figured there was a pretty good chance she wouldn't get the reference anyway.

Right on cue, Bucky appeared in the doorway and you and Sam waved him to the correct lane. “Hey guys,” he greeted, “hey babe,” he pulled you into a quick kiss. “And happy birthday, Sam.”

“Shh, keep it down, we don’t want any Hollywood people to find out that I’m aging,” Sam joked. “Are you gonna join the game or just observe?”

“I’ll join, if it’s not too late,” Bucky decided.

“Since when do you bowl?” you asked him, raising an eyebrow.

“Since I got the prosthetic recalibrated to throw the perfect strike every time,” he winked.

Beers and turns went pretty quickly after that, light conversation interspersed in between, until the more raucous parts of the evening died down and you left Bucky for a moment to join Sam at the bar.

Sam nodded to acknowledge you as you leaned beside him, and you ordered yourself one more drink before you called it a night.

“So, Natasha,” you started the conversation, watching the way Sam couldn’t hide his smile. “She’s great.”

“Yeah, she’s really something,” he agreed. “I wanted you guys to meet her sooner, but you were gone filming for so long and all.”

“Don’t fuck this one up, Sam,” you threatened.

“I’m trying not to!” he defended, before looking around like he was trying to make sure no one was looking. As you furrowed your brow and wondered what he was up to, he pulled out his phone from his jacket pocket and showed you a picture: a ring, with a massive diamond and accents of citrine.

“Holy shit…” you sighed, pulling the phone closer to get a better look.

“Had it custom made, I’m gonna pick it up tomorrow,” he explained, putting the phone away. “I don’t even know how I’m gonna ask her yet… I just know I need to snag this one before she slips through my fingers.”

“You’re really like a whole new man,” you realized aloud.

“I’m telling you, this girl… she really changed everything for me,” he sighed wistfully, and you nodded because you knew what that was like.

“I knew you just needed a good woman to straighten you out, Wilson,” you joked, patting him on the shoulder, “my only mistake was ever thinking it was me.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I thought it was you, too,” he smiled softly. “I really loved you, even when I was stepping out on you… and I think I needed to love you, and to lose you, to be here now.   So, thank you.”

“Uh, you’re welcome, I guess,” you laughed a little, taking a slow sip of your drink.

“And if she says yes, I’m gonna need all the marriage advice you have to offer,” he bargained.

“I mean, we’ve only been married for a month,” you chuckled, “I don’t think we’re far enough into it to really provide significant guidance.”

“And you’ve already gone through so much together.  Is he doing alright?  You know, his nightmares and stuff…”

You glanced over and where Bucky and Natasha were chatting, admiring how at ease he looked; he usually had a harder time with new people.  “Yeah, it’s been a lot better, he’s on new meds… how did you know about that?”

“He talks to me sometimes,” Sam admitted.  “And as someone who has played a PTSD-striken veteran in not one, but two major motion pictures, I’m sort of an expert,” he winked, but then got serious again.  “I would’ve asked him how he was doing myself but he wouldn’t let me ask him personal stuff on my birthday.”

“I bet he’d let you ask him for his opinion on the ring you just showed me.”

“Um, why would I want his opinion when he bought you that?” he grimaced, pointing at the ring on your finger.  “I mean, sapphires?  Really?”

“Cut it out,” you laughed, shoving him on the shoulder.

“Okay, fine,” he relented. 

“Are you coming to my premiere tomorrow, by the way?” you asked.  “I have it on good authority you were invited, since I demanded it.”

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” he nodded, “Nat really wants to go, too.  She’s a big fan of your work.”

“Well, tell her she was great in that one about the missing girl,” you replied.  

“I’ll be sure to tell her exactly that.”

“We should head home, you know how early premiere prep starts,” you sighed with an exhausted roll of your eyes, finishing the last of your drink before grabbing Sam on the shoulder.  “Good luck with however you decide to pop the question with Nat.  Let me know if you need anything.”

He nodded and let you go, and once you got Bucky’s attention and said goodbye to Nat, the two of you made your way out back to the car.

“I’m glad you and Sam get along,” you reminded him as you squeezed his hand.

“What gives you that impression?” he scoffed.

You shook your head and smiled, letting him walk you to the car in silence.

Less than 24 hours later, you held his hand in just the same way as you sat beside each other in the screening auditorium, watching your latest film fade to black and hearing the crowd at the premiere— mostly cast, crew, and critics— erupt into applause.

"I have a little surprise for you," you whispered in his ear as the credits began to flash.

"I am not gonna let you blow me in this crowded theater," he instantly scolded.

"No, not that," you giggled, although you secretly wondered how much less crowded the theater would have to be for him to let you try it.  "Just wait until my name comes up."

Written and Directed by Hope Van Dyne

A Paramount Pictures Film

In Association with Europa

And then there it was, in big white letters, just as much of a trip to see as the first time you saw your name on the big screen.  But something very important had changed.

Y/N Y/L/N-Barnes

Everyone at the screening was clapping and cheering, but you were so focused on him that his whisper was the only thing you heard.  "Sweetheart," he gasped, and you smiled wide.  "You didn't have to—"

"I wanted to."

"It's just a stage name, if you want to keep it the same—"

"Buck, really.  I want your name there with mine."

"But your credits…" he protested, though the break in his voice made it clear he was tearing up.  "You're an actress and you've established your career already and it's so important to you—"

"Hey," you soothed, reaching up to brush your hand over his cheek, forcing him to look at you.  "Your wife is the most important thing I've ever been."

[bakugotsundere]

Hating Him - Bakugou Katsuki (2)

Bakugo x (black) fem reader

( still can read if you’re not)

sorry if it bothers you, i just felt that my black readers weren’t feeling black as they were reading y/n stories cause i for sure wasn’t

Warning: Smut, Rough sex, hair pulling, name calling, Nsfw 18+

Summary: Bakugo and you have hated each other ever since you met, being on the same track team and having the same friend group didn’t make things any better. you 2 have to act like you like each other for the benefit of the friend group until one day you and him are forced to have movie night with the others and you both have had enough of each other’s shit.

It was now saturday and you had just came home from practice. It was about 6 in the afternoon. You started to run you some bath water, remembering how you’d have to go to the sleep over with Mina and the others. You and bakugou still didn’t get along, it was nothing but you 2 arguing at practice and the team being annoyed. You just couldn’t bring yourself to like him, no matter how hard you tried you just...couldn’t. Ever since you’ve got here, he’s hated you. He knew you were competition and he treated you like-so, even though you were on the same team. He didn’t care and neither did you.

you took off your uniform, stretching before you got into the bath water. the feeling was amazing, your muscles were finally relaxed. The feeling of the bath water brought you ease. You enjoyed this time, since you knew tonight was going to be crazy. You closed your eyes, calming yourself down as you cleared your mind. Frank ocean played on your headphones. You washed up about 4 times before rinsing yourself off with the shower head. You stepped out of your bath tub, dancing like a white lady on those commercials, as weird as it sounds it was the funnest thing ever. Pretty Girl by Clairo played on your headphones now. You dropped your towel, grabbing your shea butter, rubbing it all over your body.

You washed your face, letting it air dry afterwards. You grabbed a 2 piece pajama set that was satin, placing it in your bag. The top and bottoms matched, it was a cream color that was really light. You put on some thigh length socks. Mina had bought the pajama set for the movie tonight. You didn’t know if it fit or not so you brought something with you just in case. you were supposed to change at her house but the boys had to come in their pajamas for some weird reason. You threw some biker shorts on and a tank top that you had cut a little, you put on your nike slides, waiting on Mina to come pick you up. You took out the flexi rods in your hair. the curls were loose since your hair had been so long. It was like mid back legnth. you picked it out a little bit, giving it more volume. You smiled, showing your dimples, loving out it turned out. You knew it’d only last for the weekend though. Your ginger hair was growing on you.

you rubbed a little moisturizer to your face, so it wasn’t dry. Then you applied a little lip gloss and put your apple watch back on and sprayed a little perfume on yourself and putting on some spray on deodorant. you placed the how shoes she got you in the back also. you grabbed your nike slides, putting them on so you wouldn’t be barefooted. You heard a notification pop up on your phone.

Mina> We’re outside. might have to sit on someone’s lap 🙃.

You had your fingers crossed, praying that it wasn’t bakugou and that he had took his own car. You didn’t want to have to sit on anybody’s lap really. You headed out your house, walking towards Mina’s navy blue audi. The windows were tinted so you couldn’t see inside. You opened up the back door to be greeted by Bakugou, “Hi y/n. I’m in love with your hair. i wish my hair was that long.” Yaoyorozu told you and you smiled, “thank you.” you said softly. “Hiiiiii. Bakugou is being quite grumpy right now, don’t worry about him.” Mina said as you noticed Denki in the front seat. Yaoyorozu was on Todorokis lap and Kirishima was sitting in the middle, focused on whatever was in his phone. “Bakugou help her open the trunk so she can put her things in there.”

He sighed, getting out of the car. He was wearing a black shirt along with grey nike sweatpants and a pair of nike slides. Fits him. He followed you to the trunk, as he did, you noticed that the he was more quiet than usual. you smiled, “Hello to you too bakugou.” he stated. “I’m not being friendly to you. They can’t hear us. Don’t pull what you did at practice again.” He told you, all you did was hand him his water bottle after he was forced to run 2 laps around the track field after practice since he had got into a fight and you were just helping him.

“i didn’t do anything, i was trying to be nice dummy. but clearly you didn’t take it that way.” You stated placing your bag inside the trunk. He watched your as your did so, his eyes lingered on your body longer than usual. He closed it and you followed him back to the car, he opened the door, getting back in. “Where will I sit?” you asked and mina looked in the back, sighing. “Maybe sit on bakugo or Kirishimas lap? Bakugou looked like he doesn’t even wanna be here. ask Kirishina.” Mina told you. Kirishima looked at you, giving you a cheeky smile, “Sure, you can-“

Bakugo interrupted him by slapping him upside his head. “Your girlfriend wouldn’t like that.” Bakugo told him giving him a look, kirishima spoke up, “Nevermind I forgot to tell you guys I had a girlfriend.” He stated, bakugou looked at you and you knew that meant you had to sit on his lap. “Yaoyorozu can we umm...switch please?” You asked and she was about to say yes before Bakugos large hands wrapped around your waist as he pulled you onto his lap, you closed the door, moving around to make yourself comfortable. “Don’t ever do that again. They’ll suspect that you don’t like me and we can’t have them know that.” He whispered in your ear and you felt butterflies swarm in your stomach, hating how you reacted towards his touch. You didn’t know why it’d mess up things if they found out you two didn’t like each other but you went along with it anyways. “Still wanna switch?” She asked and you shook your head with a small smile, “No, Bakugo should be fine.” You stated. His body was warm unlike yours, which made everything worse cause you had the urge to be up under him. “Everybody ready?” Mina asked and everybody in the car replied with a small yes.

Bakugos hands would squeeze your waist, pulling you down onto his lap more as you would go over pot holes or small bumps in the rode. you’d move around occasionally to a song until bakugo had told you stop moving. You guys were still in the car, just closer than before, you started to feel something pressing against your ass as Mina stopped at a red light. The outline of it was hard, thick and very long. Your cheeks went a bright pink, knowing what it was. It was bakugos little friend, you had caused this. You could feel yourself start to get moist at the feeling of this. You hated how nasty your body reacted to his. Your pussy began to throb as so did his print and you both had to sit there as if you didn’t feel each other’s private areas yearning for each other. you refused to accept it because you hated it. Hated him especially.

Mina pulled up to her house and everyone began to get out, you were about to get out but Bakugou pulled you back down onto his lap. He shifted underneath you, moving up, his hands gripped your inner thigh, “When we get inside this house, forget about this whole car ride. Pretend this shit never happened. Tell anybody about this and i’ll fucking kill you.” He told you, pushing you off his lap. You got out the car shocked at what had just happened but you wanted to forget about what happened just as much as he did.

“Y/n? I missed you so much. I hate having a dorm, i never see you anymore.” you heard a familiar voice say and you realized it was Asui and smiled, giving her a small hug. Asui was a very chill person but she was confused all the time which made her adorable. She had on a green shirt and sweatpants, with her long hair in 2 pigtails. “I miss you too, you should stop by my house some time.” You said excitedly. “Will do.” She told you going into the house. You looked in the trunk, searching for your bag, “What happened to my bag?” you asked. Todoroki nodded his head at the door, “Bakugou took it in with him i think. He’s been acting weird ever since you came to our college.” He said, going into Mina’s house as he mumbled the last part to himself. You had wondered what he meant by “weird” and more importantly what did he do with your bag.

You followed behind him going into her house, Her house was huge, like huge. Her mother had money, so she bought Mina her own house, there was enough space and room in here for all of you. You missed the comforting smell of her house, you hadn’t been here in so long. You looked around, noticing she changed a few things around. “Anybody know where bakugou went?” you asked and everyone shook there head no, you sighed going upstairs, looking in each room, going back down the hall after no luck in finding him your face hit something hard, like real hard. You looked up at what you had hit and it was bakugo, your cheeks turned pink remembering the car ride, “Where’s my bag?” you asked and he shrugged his shoulders as he stared down at you, “When i got in, Mina took it from me.” He stated. Ok. This wasn’t as awkward as you expected “Why’d you umm...why’d you grab my bag?” you asked confused on why his hands was touching your stuff.

“Because messing with your shit is fun. Why else?”He asked. “I dislike you.” You told him angrily, trying your hardest to keep your cool. “Sure.” He told you before walking past you. You figured you wouldn’t stress it and went back downstairs into the living room, everyone got settled in, making pallets and grabbing out all the board games. you had told them that you didn’t wanna participate in any games but the card games. They were now starting a game of domino.

Bakugou was making the cookies and you watched him as he did. Your eyes followed his hands, his fingers were long and large. he had two silver rings on the pointer finger of his left hand. “Y/n, since you and bakugo don’t want to participate in any of the games, you can be the chefs for tonight. Make the cinnamon rolls too please.” Denki told you from the couch, snapping your attention away from Bakugou and you laughed softly going into the kitchen, “I do wanna play war with the cards though, so don’t forget about me when the card games come around.” you told him and he nodded his head.

“I could’ve made the cinnamon rolls.” Bakugou told you as you opened the ‘fridge. you rolled your eyes, “yes but they asked me, focus on your cookies idiot.” You replied grabbing them from the refrigerator. “Your mouth is too smart.” He said turning the oven on 350, You grabbed a pan from underneath the cabinet, loading them on the counter between the stove and refrigerator. You turned around, watching him as he placed the cookies in the oven, “so fix it.” you told him, looking him in his eyes, daring him to do something.

“I will.”

you didn’t know what he meant by that but you could tell that it wasn’t good but you didn’t care, what’s the worse that he could do.

You turned back around opening the cinnamon rolls, placing them on the pan after spraying spam onto the pan. You opened the oven, putting the cinnamon rolls inside. steve lacy played loudly on the tv and you danced around in the kitchen as you grabbed the things you needed, loving every part of this, you grabbed the oreos, placing them on the island top counter, along with the pancake mix. they told you to make fried oreos also. Bakugou watched you intensely. His eyes never leaving your dancing body.The only reason you knew how to cook was because your mother was a chef and was very experimental with foods and taught you lots of stuff. You grabbed the wisk, mixing in the water with the pancake mix. The mixing was going by very very slow and there was still chunks.

You started asking yourself what you did wrong until you felt Bakugos hands at your waist. He placed his hand over yours, showing you how to mix, you were about to tell him to move but he whispered something in you ear, “Play along, if they find out we don’t like each other shit will go down hill.” he told you and you sighed nodding your head. You knew he was right, everyone in this group liked each other, and if they found out that you 2 hated each other, things would go left. You knew how fragile this group was.

“Mix in small circles so you’re able to get everything.” He told you with his left hand still at your waist, he was able to mix everything together with ease. “Thank you.” you said softly, you felt yourself start to throb down there again as he pressed hisself against you more. You didn’t know if it was on purpose so you didn’t bother with saying anything. “Did your mother teach you how to cook?” you asked him and he shook his head. “No. I taught myself because I wanted to make food my way instead of hers. It wasn’t nasty or anything, just not what i wanted.” He stated firmly as he started up the grease to fry them in. Sounds like him. You stood next to him, “I still hate you.” He said and you looked up at him, “I hate you too. Trust me, the way i feel about you hasn’t changed.”

He tried to move you out of the way but you removed yourself from his grip, hitting him in his arm. He grabbed you by your hair, pulling your head back and bringing his lips to your ear, “Keep your fucking hands to yourself.”He warned letting go of your hair harshly, you stood there in aw of what he just had done. There’s no way you were just gonna let him get away with that but what could you possibly do to him?

He walked away from you telling you to watch the grease, he just violated you and you stood there and let it happen. He’s so...so fucking annoying.

...

It was getting late, everybody had wined down. The music was turned off and the movie was on. You and Bakugo hadn’t talked since he did what he did, you decided to avoid him for the night, being in his presence irritated you. He had been so strict on everything tonight as if this was his house when it wasn’t. He told everyone that he didn’t wanna sleep on the couch or ground so he slept in one of the rooms upstairs. Popcorn was everywhere and now it was just a bunch of adults, sleeping wildly across the floors and couches.

You looked around softly laughing at everyone’s positions. Asui was sleep in the recliner, she was cute when she slept. Denki was on the other couch by himself with his feet hanging off the edge and slob coming down his cheek. Mina and Kirishima were on the ground, the 2 of them had been the most tired since they had been play fighting each other all day. Minas foot was in his mouth and kirishimas was in hers. you tried your hardest not to let out an ugly laugh, Yaoyorozu had left, telling us that she had family problems but you all knew she didn’t, she just hated sleeping anywhere that was not her bed. Todorokis head was in your lap, he stayed still when he slept. You got along with Todoroki the most, he was very observant. He tried telling you that Bakugou has been wanting to have sex with you since you came to the university and you almost slapped him for saying that, you knew it was a lie and he was just saying stuff. After that, he laid his head on your thighs asking if you had ever considered being a pillow. at that point you knew that it was time for him to get rest and he soon fell asleep.

Nobody but you had watched the movie all the way through, you had been watching this movie called hansle and grettle. It was very scary but confused you in the end a bit. You removed Todorokis head from your lap, gently placing it on the couch. You slid to the refrigerator, opening it, grabbing the picture of water. You grabbed a wooden cup from the cabinet placing it on the counter and poured the water inside it.

“Why are you up?” You heard a deep, raspy voice say. You jumped in surprise, spilling a little water on your shirt. You sighed turning around, seeing who had just scared the shit out of you. You were met with a wide awoke Bakugo, his hair was a bit messy and you couldn’t ignore the fact that he looked good. You turned back around, ignoring him. You were serious about ignoring him. You went on, drinking your water. “How long are you gonna keep up with this bull shit?” he asked you and you stood there silent, not answering him. You had been put on your satin pajamas after the games were over, bakugou had been upstairs the whole time you were here.

The satin pajamas barely fit but Mina insisted that you still wear them because you looked, “sexy”. Your thighs were all out, and the shirt fit like a crop top instead of a shirt, since your breast were big, the shirt raised up showing your underboob everytime you raised your arms above your head. You still had on your thigh length socks. You drunk the rest of your water, putting the cup in the sink. You placed the picture of water back in the refrigerator and You grabbed some paper towels going to wipe up the water you spilled.

You felt Bakugous presence behind you, “Move. I need a cup.” he told you and you stood there not listening to what he just told you to do. He purposely brushed his length against your ass, as he grabbed a cup, the same one as you. He went to the refrigerator, getting the picture of water, pouring it inside the cup he had. You watched him as he did so, his muscles were showing since he had on a black shirt and the black had fit him so well. Your eyes looked down, seeing his print through his grey sweatpants. It was huge, like big and you wondered how anybody could even take that inside them. Let alone get the tip in. Your eyes wandered to his hands, You had a hand kink and his hands fit into it. His fingers were neat, he had clear coat of polish on them. His fingernails were clipped to the perfect size. He took care of his hands. Veins popped out his hands slightly and his fingers were long. You found yourself getting moist as your mind wandered to how good his fingers would feel inside you.

His cup being sat down on the counter snapped you out of your fantasy. You looked back up to be met with his Vermillion eyes. He caught you staring, you hurriedly turned your head embarrassed. You hated yourself so much for this, for even thinking about such lewd things when it came to him. You hated him and him being so fucking perfect didn’t change that. You felt him behind you, this time his hands were at your waist. He positioned your hips, now your ass was rubbing against his cock. You took in a deep breath, restraining yourself from saying anything to him, “Its not nice to stare.” He told you in your ear as he moved your ass around his length. You stayed quiet, trying not to let a moan escape your lips. “Still giving me the silent treatment, are we?” His hand went across your bum, leaving a stinging sensation. You gasped, “C’mon y/n, say something before i go fucking crazy.” He told you as he played with the band of your shorts. You stayed quiet wanting to know what his crazy was. “You’re so god damn stubborn.” He said in your ear as you felt his hand press against your stomach, he began to place kisses on your shoulder and neck, feeling him sucking a little too hard, a small moan escaped your lips and you felt him smile against your skin, “I thought you hated me?”

You turned around to face him, “I-I hate you. Don’t ever for a second get to thinking that I don’t.” you told him as you pulled him closer towards you, crashing your lips against his, your small hands placed at his cheeks, loving how warm he was. He kissed back with more aggression, You tried to convince yourself that you didn’t like him but it was getting harder to believe as your body yearned for his touch and now the need to feel his hands all over you grew. He pulled back and tilted his head, “finally ready to fucking talk? i’ve got a lot to say darling.” he said as his hands squeeze your waist, you looked him in his eyes, scared of this eye contact but loving how beautiful his eyes were. “Like what?” you asked. His large hands traveled down to your ass, kneading it almost. “I hate you. hate you so fucking much but...” he continued to kiss you along your neck. “but i only hate you because i want you.” he stated in between kisses, “Nobody has ever made me want them,” his hands found there way to your breast, his large hands squeezing them, “but — god dammit— i’ve been wanting you ever since you walked onto that track field,” his hands were soon replaced by his mouth, your shirt now raised and your breast being sucked on, as if he was a baby, your moans were low and quiet. His eyes, looking up at you as he did so, watching you as you struggled to keep your moans to yourself.

Your back arched a little, and he brung his lips back up to yours. Everything was so heated and out of control but you liked it, so much pent up anger had led to this and fuck, it was good. His hands tugging at the hem of your satin shorts, wanting to touch something more private. Your breathing became heavy and you realized how far you and him were willing to take this. He pulled his ring off of his fingers, placing them on yours, “Can’t have them on while i finger fuck you so I want you to wear it.” He stated and you nodded your head. His hands found themselves inside your shorts and he dragged his middle finger between your pussy lips, “Someone you hate shouldn’t make you this wet darling.” He stated and the feeling of his thumb brushing against your throbbing clit made you moan almost too loudly. He smirked, already knowing this was the sensitive spot. He started to rub it faster and your lips parted as you held onto his arm. He knew how crazy this was driving you because with each circular motion, your pussy got wetter and wetter.

His two middle fingers pressed at your entrance as he brushed his thumb against your now swollen clit. You wanted this, needed it almost as he teased you. “Bakugo. I-I need you to...” you pleaded softly. “Need me to what. It’s not that fucking hard to say. C’mon.” you looked him in the eyes, he looked at you, “I need your permission. Tell me what the fuck you want y/n.” He spat out and your eyes fluttered at how he made wanting permission seem so aggressive but at the same turn a huge turn on, “I-I want your fingers inside of me.” You moaned, and he smiled shoving his fingers knuckle deep inside of you and you placed your hand over your mouth, letting out a muffled moan. “Wasn’t that hard to say, was it?” He asked as he brung his fingers in and out of you, your fingers digging into his forearms, as quiet moans left your mouth repeatedly. He kept eye contact with you the whole time, making sure he saw how pretty your face looked when you moaned just for him. He started going faster and your brown pupils dilated, “I-I’m about to cum.” You whispered loud enough for him to hear but soft enough so that the others wouldn’t. “Shhh...cant let the others hear you now can we?” He asked and you shook your head no as his fingers grazed against your walls at a rapid pace.

Your legs got weak as his fingers bent up inside you when he reached your spot. His name was moaned loudly from your lips, followed by him removing his hands from out of you and bringing them to his lips, tasting the juices from your pussy on his fingers. he looked at you before placing his fingers deep down your throat. He pulled them out, wiping his fingers on your cheek, “I need a taste.” He stated and you shook your head no, “That’s too far. They’ll hear us.” You stated looking over into the living room. Bakugo grabbed your chin, making you face him, he kissed you again, this time more passionate and slow but still rough, he bit your bottom lip, pulling it. “They won’t hear if you stay quiet. This is all on you.” He replied and you stayed quiet as you felt his hands grab you and turned you against the island top counter , this was closer to the living room, too close almost. The couch was almost right in front of you, only the other side of the table in the way and you could see Todoroki sleeping along with the others.

Bakugou didn’t care and acted as if they were not there. He made you bend over a little and he pulled off your panties, your juices now not having anything to soak through at all. He rubbed your ass roughly before you felt him go down, “so fucking pretty.” He said underneath his breath before you felt his tongue glide between your folds, a groan found it’s way out of your mouth. He started to use his whole mouth, making sure he tasted every part of your pussy. Quiet moans and whimpers leaving your mouth everytime he sucked at your clit, making it even more swollen. He lifted your leg across the counter, his tongue finding its way back to your clit, licking it repeatedly. You never had felt this before, this was something new to you coming from Bakugou. You knew he was experienced but not this much. His mouth pleased you as his hands gripped your ass so he could get a clear view of your pussy. His tongue found itself pressing against your entrance and you moaned louder than expected, he slapped your ass, “Be quiet.” He lowly growled and you gasped as he went back to move his tongue in and out of you, “Bakugo...I’m about to-

“No you’re not.” He stated and you looked back at him confused, he continued to eat you, “I-I can’t...” you breathe out, “Hold it. I want to see your pretty face when you cum, I need to taste everything.” He told you as he turned you around and placed you on the counter. His hand pressed at your pelvic area. He placed 3 fingers inside of you, knuckles deep and your eyes went wide as your back arched. You couldn’t go much longer. You lost it when his lips sucked at your puffy clit. His wrist, thrusting his fingers in and out of you fast and rough at a uncontrollable pace at the same time. Your hands found themselves gripping his hair and he looked up at you, seeing sweat drip down from your face and your curls all messy now, this sight made his cock throb and want to have himself inside of you even more but he just couldn’t get enough of your taste. You looked down at him and you could feel yourself reach your climax, your started to tremble underneath his touch and a foreign liquid came out of your body as you let out a series of loud moans, not caring if you had awoken anyone. Bakugo licked up every juice through a sly smile. He looked up at you, “You didn’t tell me you were a squirter.” He said pulling your panties back over your pussy, kissing your inner thigh gently before going up to kiss you and you tasted yourself on his lips.

When you pulled away from him and looked down at his print, he was really on hard now. You wondered if he’d be willing to take it that far but you didn’t just wanna leave him hanging. You looked up at him, “I...I” you tried to find words but nothing would come out and he placed the palm of his hand on your small cheek, “I don’t need anything in return. Tasting you was more for me than it was for you.” He stated and you played with your fingers, “Are you sure?” You asked and he nodded his head at the living room, you turned around to see Todoroki starting to wake up, “I don’t think you’d keep quiet if i fucked you right here but I’m sure this was enough for you to control that smart mouth of yours when you’re around me.” He stated. “Bakugo-

“I wanted a taste and I got what I came here for. See you at practice.” He said in your ear, making you realize how much you still hated him, “I still don’t like you.” You told him and he chuckled deeply sending chills throughout your body, “Are you trying to tell me or yourself?” He responded and your cheeks heated up and you got quiet. You watched him as he walked back upstairs, you could’ve sworn you saw him wiping your remaining juices off corners of his mouth with his thumb and sucking it off as he left you. realizing what he asked you. You put back on your shorts and you watched as Todoroki got up and came into the kitchen sleepily. “Why are you up?” He asked as He came around to you half asleep. he was about to step into the puddle of your juices on the floor. “Todoroki don’t-

He stepped into it, getting his sock wet, “Who the fuck spilled water and didn’t get it up?” He asked and you acted as if you didn’t know, knowing that the mess came from you, “I-I don’t know but I’ll get it up.” You said softly, realizing that Bakugo didn’t take his rings back and that you’d have to give them back in the morning.

[1plus1kiyoomi]

Chapter 16: 6PM Walks

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[masterlist] [kia’s slambook]

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“What did you call me a while ago?” Kiyoomi asks Kia, not listening to what you’re saying.

“Kiyoomi, this isn’t our issue right now.”

“No, it is. She has to call me that again.”

“She won’t.”

“She will. She did it a while ago.”

“Kia’s probably playing with you,” you mumble to yourself, but you leave the two of them to continue making breakfast before the whole fiasco. You figure that Sakusa is too excited being called papa that he won’t listen to anything you will say at the moment.

“Kia say it again. What you called me a while ago,” Kiyoomi asks Kia. They are on the couch in the living room, Kia’s eyes stuck on the television screen. She ignores Kiyoomi. He takes the remote and turns the TV off. The little girl looks at him in disapproval. “Say it again and I will turn the TV on.”

“What?” Kia asks, obviously not hearing Kiyoomi’s pleads a while back.

“What did you call me a while ago?” Kiyoomi pushes, his eyes piercing through hers, begging.

“Kyo,” Kia deadpans.

Kiyoomi pouts, turning the TV back on. He leaves Kia on the couch, then goes to you at kitchen. You don’t notice him so he just leans his back on the counter, admiring you from behind. You looked so cute with his shirt and boxers on, the apron you’re wearing is the cherry on top. He’s trying his best not to jump on you especially that Kia is just there.

You, on the other hand, are slicing the apples, Saki in your mind. “That fucking bitch,” you mutter, slicing rougher than needed. “She better not show up here again.”

“Have mercy on the apples,” Kiyoomi chuckles. He wraps his arms around your waist, his chin on top of your head. You continue to slice, Kiyoomi carefully watching your hands. “Where’s the ring I gave you?”

“It’s in my bag. I took it off when we were in Universals since it was slipping off my finger. I was scared I’d lose it,” you reply. His hug feels comforting so you slow down in slicing. “Have you given up on Kia calling you papa?”

“No,” he huffs, his chin now on your shoulder. You giggle at his determination. “You’re probably shocked about what happened.”

“Didn’t know your fuck buddy was psycho,” you respond. He starts leaving small kisses on your exposed neck, so you put the knife down and turn to him. “Kiyoomi, why are you so touchy today?”

“What do you mean? I was also touchy yesterday,” he corrects you. His hands intertwine with yours as he brings it close to his. He gives all your fingers soft kisses, completely calming you down. “You seem so stressed. You should get a massage or something.”

“That sounds nice.” You smile at the thought of simply relaxing. Ever since you had given birth to Kia, time for yourself was impossible.

“Then take a day off from being a mom today,” Kiyoomi mumbles, planting a kiss on your forehead. You look up to him in confusion. “I’ll drop you off at the mall. I actually booked you an appointment at a salon and spa a week ago.” You stare at him in suspicion but he seems solely genuine about wanting you to relax.

“What about Kia?” You ask hesitantly.

“I’ll take good care of her,” he responds. “Get changed. I’ll continue making breakfast.”

After eating breakfast with Kiyoomi and Kia, they send you off to the mall. You are so excited to relax. “Me time” is rare as a mother. You shall cherish it without questions on how and why you got to do it.

As you left the car, Kia and Kiyoomi drive to another street in the city of Osaka. They leave the car, and go to a small cafe that doesn’t have a lot of customers. A woman waves at him and he goes to where she’s seated.

“Kyo who’s that?”

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You finish your appointments at around 5:30 PM. Kiyoomi really wanted you to relax. He had appointed a full body massage for you, a hair treatment appointment, manicure and pedicure and lunch at a 4-star sushi place; he’s spoiling you.

You see his car at the driveway outside the mall. You enter his car, then you sanitize your hands. Kia is asleep so you keep quiet. You take a look at him and he looks nervous.

“Are you okay?” You ask him and he nods. You eye him warily as he starts driving off without a word. “What did the two of you do today?”

“We went to a cafe, then met up with my nutritionist. Kia is also gave him a checkup. Apparently, Kia is taller than most of her peers. She’s 8 centimeters away from 100cm and she’s only 30 months old...” Kiyoomi states in a stressed manner.

“Are you afraid she’ll get bullied by other kids for her height?” You look at him and he seemed upset about it. “On the brighter side, with her height she can be a volleyball player like you.” You reassure him, he still looks like he’s on the edge.

“It’s the flower field Kia and I went to a while ago. Do you wanna take a walk?” He suddenly suggests, looking out the window of his car. You hum as a yes, then he parks his car somewhere near the flower field.

“Baby...” You coo at Kia, taking her seatbelt off. Her eyes slowly flutter open and she smiles when she sees you. You lift her off her chair then close the car’s door.

You look around, and notice that there aren’t a lot of people. No wonder why Kiyoomi wanted to take a walk. The place is peaceful and breathtaking. Rows of different kinds of flowers, but mostly roses and tulips. You look down to Kia and see that she is staring at the sun setting over the flower field.

You finally sense Kiyoomi beside you, but the energy he’s giving is off. You take a glance at him and he isn’t wearing his mask on. Now your suspicion has risen to the highest level. You want to ask him about it but Kia suddenly wriggles out of your hold. You run after her but stop when you see two familiar boys.

“Mu-chan! Ki-chan!” She squeals in excitement, running towards the said boys. You greet them with a wave as they are standing from a far. You watch Kia run to them before walking towards them too.

“Mama! Turn around!” Kia shouts but you don’t hear properly.

“Turn! Around!” Atsumu shouts this time, signaling you turn with his hand. You raise an eyebrow at them before turning around.

3rd Year, Itachiyama Academy

August 19

“Omi... I suddenly thought of something,” you spoke, watching the sunset. You two were at his backyard, enjoying your first anniversary in the comfort of his home. “How will you propose to me?”

“Are you really thinking about marriage just because we’ve been dating for a year now?” Sakusa squinted his eyes at you. You shrugged, leaning on his shoulder.

“I’m just curious since you hate surprises. You might tell me to get my nails done a week before so it’d look good in pictures,” you joked. He let out a chuckle in agreement.

“I might do that.” He saw the excitement in your eyes. Now, he’s curious about your dream proposal. “How do you want me to propose? Do you want a grand one or a simple one?”

“I want you to propose just like this,” you replied, eyes glued on the setting sun. “You, me, on our anniversary, with the sun setting.”

“Do I have to be on my knee? The ground might be dirty,” he rambled so you pouted.

“How is it a proposal if you don’t go on one bended knee?!”

“Then I’ll do that,” he replied, determined. There was no hesitance in his response so your heart beat faster.

“Really?” You asked, hopeful. You were now looking at him and so was he.

“Yes.”

“Sakusa Kiyoomi, why?!” You exclaim as you cover your face with your hands, tears already falling from your eyes.

The Sakusa Kiyoomi who well known as a germaphobe is on his knee in front you, with a ring in his hand. You check your phone to see the date, just to make sure. August 19. You cry even harder, not able to process what’s happening. Your heart is about to jump out of your chest. How does he remember even that?

“Will you marry me?”

Unable to answer due to too much emotions, you pull him up and kiss him deeply, hooking your arm on his neck, pulling him close to you. He wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you up the ground in excitement. He puts you back on the ground, then gives you another chaste kiss before slipping the ring in your ring finger. He gives it a kiss, before kissing you once more.

“Mama!” You hear Kia run to the two you. Kiyoomi lifts Kia with one arm, his other arm not leaving you. “Look! Kyo proposed to me too!”

“Kyo who’s that?” Kia asked as she and Kiyoomi sat in the same table with a strange woman.

“Is this your daughter?” The woman asked Sakusa. He nodded. Kia was still looking at her weirdly. “Hi, I’m Nako. I’m a jewelry maker. I make necklaces, bracelets, and rings. Do you wanna see?”

“Sorry, I’m late,” a familiar voice spoke, catching Kia’s full atention.

“Mu-chan!” Kia greeted him with a kiss. He sat down beside her, greeting Nako and his teammate with a smile and wave. Nako was Atsumu’s classmate in high school that has become a famous jeweler in Japan.

“Here’s the ring and necklace you have requested to custom made,” Nako told Kiyoomi, handing him two black velvet boxes. “Just as requested, a palladium engagement ring with a 2.4 carat round cut diamond. And in this box we have a 14k white gold ring attached to a 14k white gold chain. I also made sure that this won’t choke your daughter. But to be extra careful, take it off during her sleep or if she’s playing without you or your wife around.”

They finished their transaction and Nako left, leaving the boys with Kia in the cafe. “So we’ll wait for at the flower field near your house and Kia will run to us, then you’ll propose?” Atsumu clarified.

“Yes. That’s right,” Kiyoomi approved. “Please thank Kita-san for me.”

“I will. I will. We’ll meet you there.” Atsumu bid his good byes, leaving the father-daughter duo.

“Papa what’s the rings for?” Kia asked, staring at the shiny jewelry set in front of her.

“Baby, I’ll propose to your mama,” Kiyoomi started to explain. “I’ll give her this ring so we can get married and we’ll be together forever.” He tried to explain in simpler words so the child could understand.

“Why do you want to be with mama forever?” Kia questioned, which made Kiyoomi smile.

“Because I love your mama.”

“How about Kia? Do you love Kia?” Kia tilted her head to the side, her hopeful eyes peering at his. He cupped her cheek, planting a kiss on her forehead.

“So much. I love Kia so much,” he replied. “That’s why I’m giving you this.” Kiyoomi took the necklace out of the box, presenting it to her.

“You’re proposing to Kia?” She asked in an excited manner, her hands clasped together, pressing them close to her chest. “You wanna be together with Kia forever?”

Kia started crying in joy so Kiyoomi picked her up from her chair, giving her a tight hug. Her sobs quiet down so Kiyoomi put the necklace on her. She hugs him again, giving him a lot of kisses.

“I love papa, too.”

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Facts:

The idea and tradition of engagement rings dates back to ancient Egypt. The Egyptians believed circles were symbols of eternity.

The truth is the most popular engagement month in a year is December. 

In all, about 70% of brides wear their rings on the fourth finger of their left hand; a tradition that comes from the Roman belief that the vena amoris, or vein of love, was located there.

Wedding rings were traditionally made of gold because it was considered the most pure and valuable metal, and was thought to perfectly symbolize marriage.

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Taglist:  @elianetsantana​ aoi-turtle ptv-hades  aquzairus a-applepi justoneofthefangirlsarianna-r13 morenabambinii chaelysian loser-keiji mxngy ne-kuroon1fangirlsblog d-efendmissalicebaskervillemarvelousbakugou @agaashesmilktea​ bonkyandloki kimi09 ntimacy @mkazuyuh  ushi-please minty-mangos-world @dearest-kiyoomi​ yeehawslap  onlyshinji obsessedwhxre

[auburnaudry]

Fractured Family - Matthew Tkachuk

Chapter 4:

A/N: I’m so happy so many people like this series because I really didn’t expect anyone to read it. So if you are following along thank you!!!!! Also I love happy endings so if anyone is worried this entire thing is going to be angsty... it’s not lol!

<—Previous Chapter Next Chapter—>

Summary: You finally are given the entire story of what happened between Matthew and your best friend.

Word count: 2393 words

You woke up feeling extremely tired. Reign was up all throughout the night which you chalked up to the new environment and the fact that he wasn’t in his own crib. You were surprised to see him still asleep when you looked over to check on him, he must have tired himself out from all the crying.

You weren’t sure what woke you, but now that you were up and the baby was still sleeping, you figured you would check your phone. You still hadn’t turned it on since the night before.

As the apple sign faded and your background appeared, the notifications started flooding in. 36 missed calls from Matthew along with 41 text messages. Right below Matt’s name was Kaylee’s. You had 102 missed calls from your best friend along with 12 voicemail and a countless number of texts.

They must know they really fucked up. You also had 3 missed calls from your mom and 10 new messages. You figured Matthew or Kaylee had reached out and asked her to get a hold of you.

Your were quick to call you mother back.

“Hello”

“Hi mom” you started but couldn’t hold back the sob that followed.

“Oh honey what happened” she started but knew you couldn’t respond until you caught you breathe so she continued “Matty called me last night and said there was a huge misunderstanding and you weren’t returning his calls, so he wanted me to check and make sure you and the baby were okay” she paused “are you okay?” She waited patiently until you were ready to talk. You started to relax and recompose yourself after breathing through the sobs.

“He is a complete asshole” you never cursed in front of your mom but your emotions got the best of you and you were sure she understood. After the breakup and during your pregnancy, she had some choice words for him as well.

“He shows up to my house after his date goes to shit and expects me to pick up the pieces and fix it. Then the next day he doesn’t even show to pick up Reign at our scheduled time” you start to ramble but couldn’t stop yourself.

“So I drive over to Kaylee’s to ask her what I should do and try and see if she could get a hold of him. I guess I was partially right about the fact that she could get a hold of him because when I got there, HE answered HER door” you paused “HALF NAKED” you yelled the last part because it really enraged you, the idea of him and your best friend doing inappropriate things together.

“Sweetheart, I spoke to him on the phone last night at great lengths” you rolled your eyes because your mom was gullible and would believe anything anyone told her. Matthew could have told her that he purchased property on the moon and she would 100% buy it.

“He told me you caught him in a compromising position but it wasn’t like that at all” she paused and waited for a response. When she didn’t receive one she continued “I think you should talk to him, hear him out”

“Why? so he can make up some excuse and tell me I’m overreacting and then I will forgive him and everything will go back to the way it was?.” You didn’t mean to get snippy with your mom but you were so angry with the situation.

“And what if I don’t want things to go back to the way they were? I hate sharing custody.” Your mother then cut you off.

“Honey he is the father of your child, it’s not fair to him or to Reign for you to prevent them from seeing each other” she sounded worried that you might never let Matthew see Reign again.

“That not what I mean.” You paused “I love him mom and I want to be a real family with him, I hate that our son has to split time between us.” You weren’t really sure why you were confessing all you feelings to your mom but you no longer had a best friend to turn to at the moment. “But he has to go a ruin everything, just like he always does”

“I think you really just need to talk to him and hear him out y/n/n.” Your mom was always right but you weren’t ready to admit that just yet.

As you pondered her words, Reign started to stir.

“Alright Reigns waking up I gotta go” you told her as you walked over to his pop up crib.

“Ok sweetie, call me later love you”

“Love you too” and with that you hung up and tossed your phone on the bed.

You picked up your son and got into a comfortable feeding position on the bed. You were now tired of hiding in a hotel room and also running out of the things you needed to properly care for your baby.

So when you finished feeding Reign you packed everything back up into the diaper bag and made your way to check out.

You decided you would go back to your apartment and just hope and pray that neither Matthew or Kaylee were there waiting. But as you walked through the front door of your home, you found that your prayers were most definitely not answered.

Matt was asleep on your couch clutching his phone tight to his chest. You tried you best to be as quite as possible but Reign started to cry and you knew it was no use.

Matt’s eyes shot open and he hopped up from his spot on the couch. You held your hand up indicating that you didn’t want him to come any closer.

“I’m going to go change Reign’s diaper and put him in his crib, then we can talk” he nodded in response, careful not to push his luck. You walked to Reign’s room and changed him. He didn’t get much sleep the night before so he was happy to nap for a little while longer. You grabbed the baby monitor and made your way back to the living room where Matt was waiting.

You sat yourself on the opposite end of the couch and stared down at your hands. You couldn’t even look at Matt’s face anymore you were so disgusted with him. You had always known that he was a player and had a reputation but you never expected this from him OR your best friend.

“It really wasn’t what it looked like” he started and you were already annoyed.

“So please explain to me what it was then.” You spat.

“After I left your apartment that night I called Kaylee. I needed her advice.” he paused “ I was really hurt by Lexi and then by you I just didn’t know who to turn to.”

“What are you even talking about, I didn’t hurt you.”

“I came over here that night because I needed you and wanted to talk and all you could say was ‘I thought you weren’t ready for commitment’” he wasn’t making eye contact with you anymore, instead he was looking at his fidgeting hands.

“Because that’s what you told me when you broke my heart Matthew, I can’t feel bad for someone who doesn’t want the responsibility of commitment but wants a girl to commit to them. How does that make any sense?”

“Are you kidding me right now. Yes, I was stupid for breaking up with you but I realized that during your pregnancy.” He was now almost yelling “and when I did realize that you were it for me and that I did want a committed relationship, you pushed me away and friend zoned me. I proved to you that I was in it for the long haul and you were the one that didn’t want me anymore.” You were so confused by his words.

“What?” Was all you could manage. You two clearly had very different memories of your pregnancy. While Matt was most definitely there for you and very attentive, he never expressed that he wanted to be with you again. But then you thought back to the gender reveal party. That was his way of showing you he loved you.

“I hadn’t slept with anyone your entire pregnancy, well starting from the time I found out. I thought you were going to take me back and I was working so hard. But after I kissed you at that party, I realized you were over me, you never brought it up and made it a point to friendzone me afterwards.” You felt horrible, you were so blinded by your own emotions that you didn’t see his the entire time.

“So I decided I would move on. I met Lexi and she seemed great. I thought I just wanted someone to commit to and I moved way too fast with her. When she told me she only saw me as a fuck buddy, I realized that I didn’t want to commit to just anyone, I only want you y/n” you saw a tear stream down his face and you realized it was the first time you had ever seen him cry.

“I came here to tell you how I felt that night but it came out all wrong, I was still angry with you for not taking me back during the pregnancy. I called Kaylee when I left to see if she could help me figure things out with you. I stayed at her place that night because she told me to get some sleep and we would figure out a plan to win you back in the morning. I forgot to set my alarm to come and pick up Reign and I overslept. And when you knocked on the door I had just woken up that’s why I was half dressed and that’s why I wasn’t returning your calls.”

You were frozen in your spot on the couch. You couldn’t tell if this was real or if it was all just a dream. This is all you wanted from Matthew since the second you broke up. It all seemed way too surreal.

“Why should I believe any of what your saying right now” you didn’t want to get your hopes up just yet. Your words were a little harsh considering he just confessed his love but you were never good with words or finding the right thing to say. You were still slightly hurt and wanted to make sure this wasn’t some elaborate plan to keep you from taking Matt’s son away from him for good.

“I have all my text conversation with Kaylee that you can read through, I’m sure we can go back and check her ring cameras, you can also just ask her yourself.” He was rambling trying to find a way to prove he wasn’t lying, but you knew Matthew well enough and knew when he was telling the truth.

“Ok ok I get it.” You said cutting him off. There were a few moments of silence before anyone spoke again.

“So what does this mean for us.” Matt almost whispered, kinda like he was scared to hear the answer.

“Well” you took a breathe “I’m in love with you Matthew Tkachuk, always have been and always will be”

“Buttttt” he continued for you.

“But this is going to take time, sometimes I feel like I’m your last options.” Hi face fell at your words “if you can prove to me that this is really how you feel and really what you want, we can talk about having a relationship later down the line.”

“I’m going to do everything in my power to prove it to you.” He gave you a small smirk “and I can start by taking you to dinner tomorrow night.” You chuckled a little, he always did know how to lighten a mood.

“That would be nice but we can’t, who is going to watch our son?” You questioned.

“I’ll handle all the logistics, you just be ready at 6:00.” He responded. He was now up and walking to your sons room.

“Where are you going.” You followed him.

“Well it’s still my turn to take Reign, and you look like you can use a break.” He said as he packed up the diaper bag. He picked up your son and put him in his carrier. “I’ll be back tomorrow at 6:00, be ready” he smiled and kissed you on your cheek. And with that he left your apartment.

You sat on your couch with your head in your hands after Matthew left with Reign. You needed a few minutes to collect your thoughts and process what just happened. You didn’t even realize how tired your were until you started to doze off. But your were abruptly brought back to reality when your phone started to ring.

“Oh my god you finally answered. Y/n, I can explain everything.” Kaylee voiced streamed through your phone but you were quick to cut her off.

“Kay wait, I’m sorry I ever doubted you. I was just having a hard time and was obviously thrown off by what I saw. Matthew explained everything to me.” You could hear her sign in relief on the other end of the phone.

“Oh....so you guys talked” she paused a little excitement in her voice “well how did it go, are you guys back together.”

“Not quit” you said, kind of ashamed.

“What do you mean, all you ever wanted was to be a real family with him, for him to fully commit to you. Now he finally does and what did you say?” She was clearly confused.

“Kay it’s gonna take time, we still have so many problems we have to work through. We need to take things slow so I know this is what he really wants.”

“What he really wants or what you really want?” You were thrown off. You had never really thought about the possibility that this isn’t what you wanted. If your relationship was just going to be fighting and worrying that he is hooking up with someone else when you weren’t together, did you even want it? Matthew was going to have to work really hard to prove that this is what you both want.

[ot3-watch]

Episode 3: The Wedding Job

And so we begin the “The Network Fucked Up” saga with episode 7 which is SUPPOSED to be episode 3. 

Huge men drinking out of tiny teacups is hilarious and will never stop being so. 

Nate, stop being such a control freak. “I thought I pick the clients” DUDE CHILL

“No more, no less” honey you getting much more

“We’ll get back to you” FUCK YOU NATE

PARKER LOVES KIDS EPISODE 1

NATE IF YOU HAD FOUND THIS CASE YOU’D TAKE IT IN AN INSTANT YOU’RE JUST MAD YOU DIDN’T FIND IT

FBI!!! TAGGERT AND MCSWEETEN!! AHH OKAY I LOVE THEM

“They just need validation” BITCH ME TOO THE FUCK

TODAY IN THEY MAKE PEOPLE LOOK UNNECESSARILY STUPID

Hardison is so gregarious it’s so amazing to watch

“I don’t have to type anything right” oh my god

TAPES! “HARDISON HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO WALK OUT OF THE FBI OFFICES WITH A BOX FULL OF TAPES?” “pUNCH someBODY!” “oh I’m gonna PUNCH SOMEBODY” God i love them

Jersey Boys I can’t, it’s terrible guys. Do mobsters have no taste

Oh look, it’s that woman who’s in EVERYTHING

What is Parker wearing on her head

Everyone talks about bridezillas, but no one talks about mother of the bridezillas. 

WHY DIDN’T THEY HIRE A WEDDING PLANNER IN THE FIRST PLACE

SOPHIE FOCUSING ON HER PERSONAL PROBLEMS WITH NATE INSTEAD OF THE JOB EPISODE 1

ELIOT THE CHEF EPISODE 1

HOLY SHIT I LOVE HIM

ELIOT GETTING TOO ATTACHED TO HIS COVER STORY AND FORGETTING ABOUT THE JOB EPISODE 1

He’s so mad that she doesn’t like it I lovehim I LOVE HIM I FUCKING LOVE ELIOT SPENCER

“Imagine if we had bugs planted all over the house” WHY THE FUCK DON’T YOU

How the fuck is the dress so ugly? WHY IS THAT WHAT THEY WANT? WHO WEARS PINK RUCHED SATIN WITH BLUE FLOWERS

I mean, other than, like, me @6 years old. But really, no one should be wearing the clothes I wore at 6 years old. 

Also it’s just.. the worst length. Like if it was a long dress it might be better. 

Nate the pastor episode 1

God that future son in law seems like a dream guy I love him

Maria Moscone deserves better than her scumbag parents let’s be real

SOPHIE TAKING THINGS TOO PERSONALLY AND GETTING THE WAY OF THE JOB

THIS!!! THIS IS WHY THE NETWORK ORDER MAKES NO SENSE!!! THIS HERE’S AN AIMEE REFERENCE BUT IF THEY’D ALREADY DONE THE TWO HORSE JOB, HARDISON WOULD’VE KNOWN ABOUT HER AND NOT ASKED

“What did you do?” “Me? I liberated CROATIA!” *angry apple bite* i CAN’T I LOVE HIM

DO PEOPLE NOT KNOW PARKER ISN’T A BRIDESMAID? HOW IS THAT DRESS FOOLING ANYONE

Hardison in love with Parker is so pure

… Okay but shouldn’t maria and blonde n’ bitchy know that Parker isn’t a bridesmaid? Wouldn’t the other bridesmaids know? Why does no one in the wedding party question ANYTHING?

HARDISON’S SCARF THOUGH

WHY IS HER MOTHER WEARING WHITE?? WHO WEARS WHITE TO A WEDDING WTF

MARIA MOSCONE DESERVES BETTER

SOPHIE FUCK OFF!! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS RIGHT NOW?? THIS ISN’T IMPORTANT SOPHIE!! SOPHIE STOP IT!! SOPHIE SHUT UP!

M A R I A M O S C O N E D E S E R V E S B E T T E R

The Butcher of Kiev is the best subplot of this episode but HOW THE FUCK DID THEY ALL KNOW HE AND ELIOT HAD A PAST

Sophie is so fucking annoying in this episode I hate her right now

THESE PEACHES AREN’T GONNA POACH THEMSELVES PARKER

OH MY GOD NATE SHUT UP

NATE SHUT UP

NO ONE WANTS TO HEAR THIS NATE

SHUT THE FUCK UP NATE

THIS ISN’T ABOUT YOU NATE

“In my day, no one would do business at their daughter’s wedding” WELL THEN DON’T DO BUSINESS 

Parker’s face smushed against the glass is great

Ahh yes, you don’t get the money so you SHOOT THE BRIDE. Because THAT’s not gonna cause a scene and get you arrested. 

OK be honest is there anyone who was surprised by the wife being responsible? Bc I’m not

Eliot’s face is like “TFW the guy whose face you burned shows up at a wedding you’re supposed to be pretending to but actually are catering with a cleaver and backup and the overwhelming urge to kill you”

I know that’s super specific but that’s what it is

Parker’s really good at playing drunk

But also, why did they not question what she was doing behind the curtain

Like she just happened to appear after they were finished talking about VERY ILLEGAL THINGS and they aren’t at all suspicious?

Also, Parker using Hardison as a cover is just… I love it. 

You’re laughing. Eliot brought a whisk to a knife fight and you’re laughing. 

The saddest part is Eliot has any sort of cooking implement. You should be terrified right now

Okay so let me get this straight. A guy is StrANGLING you, you get your hands on a rolling pin, and your instinct isn’t, “hey, I can use this rolling pin to clobber him over the head,” the instinct is “Let me use this rolling pin to get my hands on the appetizers?” Like, yes, lemon juice, but also ROLLING PINS ARE HEAVY AND YOU COULD AT LEAST KNOCK THE GUY OUT

But no, let me shove fucking MUSHROOMS in his eyes because otherwise how else would we get the symmetry of the butcher yelling “IT BUUUURRRNNNNSS” both times he fights Eliot

And then he uses the fucking serving tray to bonk him on the head INSTEAD OF THE DUCKING ROLLING PIN

LIKE SERIOUSLY HAVE YOU EVER USED A ROLLING PIN AS A WEAPON

I’M NOT SAYING I HAVE BUT OUCH

Like, just… If I had a choice between being hit over the head with a thin sheet of metal or a log of wood with metal inside it, I’d pick the sheet, because at least that one has some give. 

“It’s the lemon juice” How does Eliot make that sound badass

“You just kill a guy with an appetizer?” How the FUCK WOULD YOU KNOW THAT??

WHY DOES NO ONE ASSUME A ROLLING PIN WOULD BE AN OKAY WEAPON

Or like LITERALLY ANYTHING ELSE IN THAT KITCHEN. THERE ARE CAST IRON PANS IN THAT KITCHEN. Or just liek… regular pans. HAVE YOU EVER DROPPED A NONSTICK PAN ON YOUR FOOT? IT FUCKING HURTS?? WHY IS THE APPETIZER YOUR FIRST INSTINCT NATE

Also, he’s clearly not dead. What the fuck

“I don’t know, maybe” I KNOW AND tHE ANSWER IS NO YOU OBVIOUSLY DIDN”T

...who honeymoons in Kansas? Is that a thing? 

They are a very cute couple i’ve gotta be honest

“Exactly what denomination are you reverend?” He isn’t

“You’re not Mary Poppins, youre a bitch” Okay pot. Okay. 

LITERALLY THAT FUCKING HANDBAG WOULD AHVE MADE A BETTER WEAPON THAN THE MUSHROOMS

How does Hardison remember all those numbers? He didn’t even hear a bunch of them, but he takes the book out so slowly? DOES HARDISON HAVE AN EIDETIC MEMORY? WHY IS THAT NOT A PLOT POINT MORE OFTEN

Like I’m just saying, someone tries to tell me their phone number more than 3-4 numbers at a time and I get confused. But hardison just… remembers

What happened to the cash? The daughter gets the fucking wedding present she DESERVES for putting up with her awful parents that’s what

Hardison appreciating Eliot’s cooking is EVERYTHING

“I left him five dollars for socks” Well everyone needs socks. 

Okay wait I just had a thought

If Nate isn’t an actual Reverend, is that marriage even legal? Does Nate just happen to also be a legally ordained minister? Did they have to get him an online ordainment? WhY did we not see that scene? WHAT IF HE’S NOT AND THEY AREN’T ACTUALLY MARRIED

And today on “I clearly think far too much about these things”

PARKER WIth KIDS IS EVERYTHING

Eliot cooking for his family I love it

ELIOT IN A TANK TOP I LOVE IT

Was Eliot’s arms the most important part of this scene? Probably not

Is it the only thing I care about? ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY

I”M A SIMPLE GIRL AND HE HAS VERY NICE ARMS OKAY

Final thoughts: 9/10. I love this episode so much guys. Points off because really who the fuck wears white to a wedding. I know that’s the point but its very off putting. Also for the bridesmaid dresses because they were ugly as sin. Actual point off for the wife secretly being awful. Very predictable, ew. Extra points for Chef!Eliot. Extra points for Eliot’s arms. Points off for Nate and Sophie being completely insufferable. Extra points for Parker being great in this episode. Points off for the FUCKING ROLLING PIN YES I’M STILL ANGRY DONT @ ME. Extra points for Eliot killing a man with an appetizer because it’s still funny. Extra points for no IYS or Sam references THANK THE FUCKING LORD. Or, at least, if there was, i didn’t notice, meaning it wasn’t egregious so whatever. So yeah, anyway I really fucking love this episode. 

IYS Count: 2/3

Sam Count: 2/3  AND WE ARE ALL BETTER OFF FOR IT

[lightforthedeadvine]

Title: How to Fall in Love When You’re Dead (A guide by Dean Winchester)

Author: @lightforthedeadvine – Anwamane_13 on AO3

Written for: @localwhiskeylez

Gift Exchange:  @destielsecretsanta2020​

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Castiel/ Dean Winchester

Word count: 11.905

Rated: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Fix-it | Post15x20 | Gift Exchange | Light angst | Happy ending | A bit of fluff

AN: Wow, I can't believe it's done! I really hope you like it, @localwhiskeylez! Sorry for any typos, English is not my first language. Merry Christmas!

How to Fall in Love When You’re Dead (A guide by Dean Winchester)

How Dean Winchester realizes that the love of his life is his best friend and, being the moron that he is, it only happens after he's already dead.

                                                   INTRODUCTION

This article seeks to help the reader to solve unfinished business during their life on Earth. It is an observational interventionist study, based on the author's life. Some angels and demons were injured during the execution of the study, but the fact only serves as a background to illustrate the situations in which the author found himself and are important for the understanding of the facts.

1-    When you’re still alive, be emotionally constipated.

Cas dies and Dean can’t get up, can’t look anywhere except at his wings, frail and broken shadows engraved on the ground. This is it. This time Cas’ death is for good. Dean isn’t ready for this, he can’t deal with this, he needs to get up and pretend he’s not there, kneeling on the ground next to his best friend’s body. His mind is empty and too full at the same time.

The thing is, Cas has died before, but Dean had never been left with his body to deal with. It makes his death more real somehow. So, he wraps the body with the old curtains, and he refuses Sam’s help. He doesn’t need anyone right now. They burn Cas, a hunter’s funeral. Dean listens to Sam trying to explain to a confused Jack that it’s time to say goodbye, but he can’t say anything. The flames are high and Dean can’t stop thinking that Cas deserved so much better than this. In the back of his mind there’s something he should have done, something he should have said, some way he could have showed Cas how appreciated he was. But Dean is not sure what it is, and he doesn’t want to know. He doesn’t want to feel anything, or rather, he can’t look at what he’s feeling too closely, or he’ll lose it.

Later, he loses it in booze, he punches the door until his knuckles bleed, he hates everything, he yells at Sam, he wishes he’d had kept Cas’ coat, so he could keep it in the Impala’s trunk, like before. He’s not sad, he’s furious. Stupid angel, getting himself killed like that. Stupid, stupid angel. Sam, the giant girl that he is, wants to talk, but Dean snorts and refuses to acknowledge anything that resembles a chick flick moment.

He doesn’t cry.

2-    When someone tells you he loves you, don’t say anything.

“I love you”, Cas says, and he puts his bloodied hand on Dean’s shoulder. He pushes Dean to the floor, and when the Empty comes, Cas has a slight smile on his lips. He looks…  in peace, almost. Angelic. And then he’s gone.

Dean thinks “why didn’t he tell me about the deal” and “this can’t be real” and “I need him to come back”. He looks at the wall and there’s nothing there indicating that his friend, the best friend one could ever have, just vanished through it.

Dean’s mind is running so fast he can barely keep up with it. Cas’ ‘I love you’ keeps ringing in his ears, playing in the back of his head, like a broken record. Dean is astonished. He had no idea. He didn’t know. He feels that this ‘I love you’ was very different from the ‘I love you, all of you’ Cas said when Crowley saved him from dying poisoned, with Dean, Sam and Mary not knowing what to do, how to stop Cas‘ death. Dean knows Cas meant a whole different thing this time; he could see it in Cas’ eyes. This time Cas meant the love kind of love. Dean had no idea an angel could even feel this kind of love. But if he knew, would it have changed anything? It’s not as if Dean would say it back, it’s not as if he deserves this love, an angel’s love. For fuck’s sake, it’s ludicrous.

Dean said nothing, he just kept shaking his head no and saying dumb things like ‘what are you talking about’ and ‘don’t do this’. He said nothing meaningful in Cas’ last moments, nothing his best friend could take with him to the Empty to justify the sacrifice he was making. He wonders if Cas thought he didn’t care, but probably not, because the stupid angel has always seen the best in him; something Dean is not even sure it’s there.

Cas said he loved Dean. And Dean didn’t say anything. He has no idea what he could have said, but he should have said something. Anything. Cas gave his life to save Dean’s, and Dean just stood there; just let him go.

His cell phone rings but Dean has no idea how to answer it. He looks at the wall again. He can’t speak right now, he’s not even worthy of speaking right now. Dean puts his hands on his head, cover his eyes, tries to leave the world outside for a while longer. His head, his heart, his whole being hurts.

This time he cries. This time Dean sobs.

3-    After losing someone you care about, live the rest of your life pretending you’re ok with it.

Miracle jumps on the bed and Dean holds his dog close for a while, taking comfort from his furry best friend. They grew very attached to each other, and so far, no one has come to claim the dog, so Dean is confident he’ll be able to keep it for good. He gets up, getting ready for another day of Sam making breakfast, going for a run, maybe calling Eileen or Jody and Donna. Dean will walk Miracle, maybe. Watch old reruns, make pancakes, even though Sam will complain one shouldn’t eat breakfast food for lunch, and have a tasteless salad, as always. Dean doesn’t care, Miracle will help him with the stack of pancakes. He still needs to finish filling the job application on his desk, but he’s not in a hurry. He has all the time in the world, right? No one is controlling them now, and Jack  sounded like he’d let things run free.

When Sam mentions Jack and Cas, Dean says they should keep on living, because that’s what Jack and Cas would want them to do. The truth is, he doesn’t want to talk about it, so he shoves a huge piece of pie into his mouth. He knows Jack is around, in every drop of rain and every wind, and inside and out of the bunker, like he said… but Dean’s almost sure they’re never gonna see him again, and he misses the kid. As for Cas… Dean has no idea what the Empty’s like, but an eternity of nothing sounds like an endless punishment worse than hell, and once again, he can’t help thinking that Cas deserved better. Before he can think how much he misses his best friend, he decides to focus on anything other than the dull ache inside him every time he thinks of Cas’ sacrifice. Cas died so they could live, and they’re gonna live, dammit.

Sam pushes pie into Dean’s face and hearing his laugh makes Dean think that everything is gonna be alright, eventually. His baby brother’s laugh is one of the things that keeps him going these days. He’s grateful for that. Content, if not happy.

4-    A crucial point for doing something after being dead is dying. So… die.

This one is hard to explain.

Dean doesn’t want to die. But as it is, death comes in the most stupid way possible, and he doesn’t want to fight anymore. He’s tired. He doesn’t want Sam to call an ambulance, because it’s not gonna work and he doesn’t want the kid to get his hopes up. The rusty thing inside his lungs hurt like a motherfucker, it’s getting hart to breathe and his mind is fuzzy.

Sammy, he thinks. Sammy’s the most important thing here. Dean needs to tell his little brother how much he loves him, because he knows he hasn’t said it enough. He needs Sam to know he’s always been the most important thing in his life, ever since John put baby Sam in  his arms inside a burning house and told Dean to protect him. He needs Sam to know that Dean doesn’t regret being Sam’s mother, father, old brother and friend; he doesn’t regret not having a childhood because he knows, he knows, he gave Sam one; at least the best he could. Dean needs Sam to tell him he’ll be alright; that Dean can go in peace; that Sam will get a life for himself  after this.

4.1 - Ignore any mention of your best friend and give only a small smile when being told he’s not in the Empty anymore;

‘Cas helped’, Bobby says. Jack made this incredible Heaven for everyone and Cas helped. Bobby arches one eyebrow when he mentions Cas, and Dean pretends he doesn’t notice. He smiles slightly, comforted by the fact that his friend is not in the Empty anymore. He hoped, no, he knew Jack would set his chosen father free, but somehow, he never asked him. He doesn’t know why. He could say he was in some kind of daze, caused by the shock of everything that had just happened, but… it’s not an excuse; he should have asked Jack about Cas, and he didn’t. Sometimes Dean is really stupid.

4.2 -  Spend forty something years driving and waiting for your brother to join you in the afterlife.

Suddenly, Baby is there.

Although time moves different in Heaven, it’s a bit, well, a lot strange that right at the end of the long road, probably the Axis Mundi, Sam is there in the fucking bridge, as if he’d been waiting for Dean. Has Dean just spent forty years driving? Really? What about Mom and Dad? Why didn’t Dean go see them? What about Ellen and Jo, probably right there inside the Roadhouse,  where Bobby was… why didn’t Dean get inside? What about Cas? Isn’t it strange that Cas wasn’t there to welcome him to the afterlife? And… Dean didn’t do anything except wait for his brother for four decades? This is surreal.

The happiness he fells  when he hears Sam’s voice, though,  is indescribable. Somehow, he knows time has passed and Sam had a life, a fucking normal apple pie life, and Dean is so, so grateful his brother got to have that. As for him, he can finally stop worrying about the kid. Sam has always been Dean’s everything, and now it’s as if… his work is done.

“Eileen and I… it didn’t work; she… was traumatized, I guess. Being around a Winchester was more dangerous than any monster,” Sam says when they’re in the car, returning home, wherever the heck ‘home’ is. “And Dean’s mother…  she got pregnant; we hadn’t planned anything. She, um… didn’t know I was a hunter, so I kind of… I retired, started working as a paralegal. But we were too different, it didn’t work anyway, and she left when Dean was fifteen.”

“Dude, you named your kid after me?” Dean is all smiles.

“Dean Robert Winchester,” Sam says, proudly. “A great kid. Preferred his ink on his right arm.”

“You didn’t raise him as a hunter, did you?”

“Hell no,” Sam snorts, “but here and there a hunter came looking for advice, and… the kid was smart, figured there was something strange going on. And on his sixteenth birthday a shapeshifter moved to our backyard, so…”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“What about the bunker?” Dean wants to know. If Sam worked in a law firm, what happened to the bunker?

Sam suddenly looks uncomfortable. “I, um… I gave it to Jody, Donna and the girls. They did a great job over the years, built a really big net, organized the branches… Claire and Kaia, they’re, like, top hunters in the country now.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “Dude, that’s great, but…”

“I couldn’t do it, Dean,” Sam says in a hurry, earnest. “It wasn’t the same without you. There was no one else. I was alone, and I… I just couldn’t.”

Dean pretends he doesn’t feel a pang in his chest at hearing how bad it was for Sam. But hey, heaven or not,  he’s not gonna start a sharing and caring scene with Sam now, right? “What about Miracle?”

“Lived for twelve years more, was Dean’s best friend.”

“Dude, I’m never gonna get used to this. You named your kid after me. Wow, I mean… I know I’m important, but… didn’t know you couldn’t live without a Dean in your life,” Dean jokes.

But Sam is serious. “I really couldn’t.”

“No chick flick moments, Samantha,” Dean tries to lighten the mood, because, shit. He expected Sam to miss him, of course… but not like this.

Sam appears to take the bait. “Jerk.”

Dean laughs. “Bitch.”

5-      In Heaven, pretend you’re not looking for your Angel best friend.

Mary and John live not far from the Roadhouse, just like Bobby said. Their house is a replica of the Lawrence house, the one that caught fire. Dean thinks it’s creepy that Mary ends up living in the same house in which she died, but hey, she seems happy. They both do.

“So, dad, how did you get this house? Not that I remember much of it, but me and Dean, we went back there for a case,” Sam asks, eyeing Mary, because well, she was the ghost that lived there. She just smiles quietly at him. “From what I can see, it seems just like the old one.”

John looks different. At peace. The lines on his face seem softer, leaving him with a younger appearance. Mary’s presence did this, Dean can’t help thinking. Having a forever with the love of your life can do this to a person. Not that Dean knows from experience since he’s never had a… never mind. Lisa was never the love of his life, and Dean doesn’t want to think about her; still hurts.

His father’s eyes radiate happiness. It’s a bit strange, in a good way. “We were together in our private heaven,” he tells. “But I confess, it was a little boring, because it never changed. Then they came,” he shrugs, “and everything changed.”

“They?” Dean asks.

Mary smiles. “Mostly, Jack. He came and… we had a serious talk. It was never his fault, how I came here. He was distressed, and I pushed too hard.” She holds John’s hand. “Jack said we shouldn’t be separated from the ones we loved, because there is space for everyone. So he opened all the doors, fixed all the bridges, and suddenly our friends, family… they were all there. We started to build a heaven where we could all live together…”

“And Cas suggested it would be a good idea if we lived in our old house,” John finishes. “He built this for us exactly as we remembered it.”

Dean arches his eyebrows. Cas? Since when is his father on a nickname basis with Cas? “You know him? Cas?” he can’t help asking.

“Of course he knows Cas,” Mary laughs. “he’s Jack’s right arm. Everyone knows him.”

“And where is he?” Dean asks.

Mary shrugs. “Around,” she says enigmatically.

Okay. Dean frowns a little. A guy dies and his best friend doesn’t come to greet him? Then he changes the subject, because really? Not a pleasant thing to think about.

-------

Ellen and Jo are still in the Roadhouse by the time Dean gets back there. Sam stayed behind with their parents. But Dean suddenly needs to see everything and everyone. As if he has already lost too much time. And, maybe he has, driving through the Axis Mundi, waiting for Sam. But hey, now he has all of eternity, right?

“So, how does it work? This heaven?” he asks, while Ellen pours him a one more shot of Johnny Walker.

“We just… live. We do what we want and see who we want. When Cas built this place for us, ‘cause I said I preferred to work; you know me, I’m no woman to sit still… anyways, he said that the things we’ve always wanted to do, but it was never the right time…”

“Or…” Jo smiles, standing beside her mother, “we were always busy killing the next monster… well, these things, we could do them all now, you know? And… it’s freeing, really.”

“Cas built this place” Dean repeats like a parrot, not really paying attention to what they’re saying. “You mean my friend, Cas.”

Ellen raises her eyebrows. “Do you know any other Cas?”

“Nope.”

It’s annoying, really. Cas built the Roadhouse for Ellen and Jo? That’s great, they more than deserve it, but… he didn’t take the time to see Dean when he arrived?

------

Things are starting to get ridiculous.

Dean has visited and met a lot of people since he arrived. And apparently, since Jack decided to rebuild heaven, Cas has:

a)      Built a house for Bobby and Karen, and the woman was delighted by his manners. Such a handsome and polite ‘boy’.

b)      Found Charlie’s mother, Gertrude Middleton, they had a teary and wonderful reunion and now they live together by the mountains, where the internet (in Heaven? Huh…) is better than any other place on Earth.

c)      Rescued Kevin from ghost-life. The boy spends his days playing cello and going on dates with Channing. Linda Tran is around too.

d)      Eileen died on a hunt a few years after Dean. Cas found her parents and she finally found her happy ever after with them.

e)      Gave back Pamela’s eyes, and the psychic went traveling around the heaven-world, eager to seeeverything.

So, it’s Cas this, Cas that, blah blah blah. Dean is getting annoyed.

Oh! On top of that, Kelly Kline apparently sees him a lot. In fact, she sees him more than she sees her own son, since Jack is always busy being the almighty and all. How does Dean know? He finds Kelly by chance while walking around, and as soon as she greets him, she asks “Have you seen Castiel yet?” with a knowing smile. He hasn’t, of course. And then she wastes no time telling him how wonderful Cas is for helping Jack with the heaven thing, since her son is young and has a lot to do. Apparently, Cas and Kelly spend a lot of time together, talking. Dean changes the subject and leaves as soon as he can. He is not jealous, of course. Of course not.

Dean is not only annoyed now. He’s a little hurt. As if his friendship didn’t really mean anything for the angel. Part of him thinks it’s stupid, because Cas loves him, he said so, didn’t he? But his absence is telling. Somehow, Dean knows Cas doesn’t want to see him. He just knows.

6-    When you see him, try to talk about the elephant in the room, even if he clearly doesn’t want to.

It’s a bit strange, this heaven Jack has created. Because now time seems linear, and Dean has no idea how this happened, since it went by so fast before Sam arrived. But now there are days and nights and an endless string of people Dean wants to see and spend time with. So much, that he has no idea where he’s supposed to live, but he doesn’t ask anyone. He sleeps at his parent’s house, or Charlie’s place, or at Bobby’s. It’s a wonder he sleeps at all, because he really doesn’t need it; he’s dead, they all are. But they eat and drink and sleep, and they have long, long talks, like a never-ending party with all the burgers, pies and beer Dean could ever want.

It’s great.

Also, it feels a  little bit… empty.

So, Christmas comes. Apparently, this is a special time in heaven too.  There’s a party at the park and Dean finds himself in charge of the cheeseburgers. He’s there, by the grill, flipping the patties and making sure they don’t burn. Then Dean sees him.

He’s standing by the lake. Different clothes, the dark jeans and blue t-shirt look so unusual for him, but Dean would recognize that head of dark hair anywhere. Cas is not looking at him, he’s talking to a couple, an open smile on his face, so different from the burdened expression he always wore. Dean forgets about the grill and everything else. He just walks towards him, his heart thundering in his chest and a million questions in his head.

“Cas!” he calls before he reaches him, arms opening to hug him, and Cas turn his head, his very blue eyes wide and …

Oh.

There’s no immediate recognition in those eyes.

It’s not Cas. It’s Jimmy Novak.

Dean’s arms fall. “Jimmy,” he says, just to make sure. He deflates like an empty balloon.

“You’re… Dean, right?” Jimmy says, and shit, Dean should have never had mistaken him with Cas. His eyes are exactly the same, but Cas’ eyes sparkle when they look at Dean, and Jimmy’s just… don’t. And the voice, there’s no way this… generic,  normal voice could ever belong to Cas. Even his relaxed posture is completely different than Cas’.

“Yeah. Dean Winchester,” he says, because now he has to make small talk with the guy, and he really, really doesn’t want to. His chest gives a funny pang looking at him, and Dean thinks of Claire, for the first time really understanding what she went through whenever she looked at Cas and thought of her father. Dean is looking at one, wanting to see the other, because they look the same but they’re so, so different, and it’s just...disappointing doesn’t even get close.

“It’s good to see you, Dean,” Jimmy says solemnly. “Is your brother well?”

“Yeah, he’s… around.” Dean says, looking around, already knowing he won’t find Sam here, because his brother found Bobby’s library and, the big nerd he is, he must be reading somewhere, even though they don’t hunt anymore. “But there’s so much lore here, Dean!” he’s said, eyes sparkling.

“That’s great,” Jimmy says, and then he frowns a little. “Where’s Castiel?”

“How the hell will I know?” Dean lets out, the he looks at Jimmy apologetically. “Haven’t seen him.”

Now Jimmy looks a bit uncomfortable. “Oh, I’ve just put my foot in my mouth. It’s just that – that Castiel was always thinking about you when we were sharing my – my -” he gestures at himself.

They’re both saved by a burning smell.

“The burgers are burning, you idjit!” Bobby screams from somewhere, and Dean just looks at Jimmy, gives him a yellow half-smile and leaves, relieved. He never loved the smell of burning burgers so much.

----

It’s late, everyone has gone home. Dean doesn’t have a home to go to, and he really doesn’t care about it right now. He’d be there alone, anyway. He has no idea how much time has passed since he came here, and it’s a bit disorienting. He’s sitting by the pond, where he saw Jimmy earlier. He’d be drinking right now, if he thought it would help him forget. Can you get drunk when you’re dead?

He’s not an ungrateful bastard. He knows he’s in heaven, and it’s – it’s just great, something he’d never thought he’d have. And wow, his family and dearest friends are here with him, and things couldn’t be better. He’s grateful for everything, and if Jack were here, he’d hug the hell out of the kid. Um… deity. Almighty. Whatever. Still, he’s one third Dean’s son, so he’ll call him kid if he wants to.

The thing is, somehow, he wants more. More than eternal happiness, and he feels a bastard for not being satisfied with eternal bliss. But he misses having something to worry about. He misses the bunker. Shit, he even misses hunting, even though thinking about his last hunt gives him chills. But most of all, he misses having Sam, Jack and Cas by his side, the four of them against the world. He misses Cas’ eyerolls, his deadpan lines, his lack of notion about personal space. His hand on Dean’s shoulder,  eyes solemn, glistening –

“Goodbye, Dean.”

Before he knows it, Dean is half-keeling on the grass. “Cas, buddy, you got your ears on?” he prays, like he did so many times before. “I – I hope you can hear me, that you’re alright, that you’re happy now that you’re back home.” He sighs. He has no idea what to say. “I never thought I’d get a chance to pray to you again, but here I am.” Taking a deep breath, he forces himself to go on. “I miss you, man. And – and I know you’re avoiding me… I mean, I know I was a dick to you for so long that maybe – maybe you don’t wanna see me? You could… at least come and say goodbye, you know? I hear you see and help everyone and you never, never come to see me. And I have no idea why.”

A bark makes him look around, and suddenly a light brown, furry dog jumps on his arms. He half-falls sitting on the grass while he hugs his companion from long ago. “Miracle!” he greets the dog, and his heart feels lighter already just for seeing him.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean turns his head so fast his neck hurts a little. “Cas,” he breathes. “You’re here.”

“Yes, um…” Cas gestures at Miracle. “I found your dog.” He’s dressed as always, white shirt, black suit, tan trench coat, tie askew. He looks awesome. He’s a few steps away, and he doesn’t come closer. The smile he gives Dean doesn’t exactly reaches his eyes; not that Cas smiled a lot. But he’s looking at Miracle now, like he’s avoiding looking at Dean. ”I hope all is well with you…?” he says lamely.

“All is – “ Dean sputters, disbelieving. “That’s what you have to say?” he closes the distance between them, stopping a few centimeters from Cas. “Where the hell have you been? I arrived here ages ago, and you haven’t come to see me.”

“Bobby was here to greet you.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen Bobby, Mom, Dad, Charlie, Jo, Ellen… even Jimmy freakin’ Novak. Everyone except you.”

Cas opens his mouth and starts to shrug, then aborts the movement, still looking at Miracle, perched on a log. “You don’t need me, Dean. You already have all you wanted. I made sure you have everything you could possibly want; everyone you love is here. Why should I come?”

“What the fuck do you mean?” Dean’s not sure he should be swearing in heaven, but hey, he was brought here like this, so they’ll just have to deal with him this way. “Because we’re friends, asshole!” he says, exasperated. Then, quieter, “because I missed you.”

“It’s not of import, you’re with your loved ones now.” Cas says, awkwardly. “I’m glad to see you’re doing well, and – “

“Stop it, Cas,” Dean says, frowning. This is not how he expected their reunion to be. “What’re you  talking about? I missed you man, every minute of every day, and – “

Cas finally looks at Dean, and he looks so sad Dean almost pinches himself to make sure he’s awake. “Jack had just rescued me from the Empty and he asked if I wanted to see you, and – “

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, you were brought back and you didn’t come to us?”

“I saw you, Dean. You were happy. Eating pie, laughing with Sam. And I decided to step aside and just let you have the life you deserve. You and your brother together, like it was before heaven and hell came into your lives.”

Dean throws his hands in the air. “You’re an idiot, Cas, come on! Is that why you never came?”

Cas shrugs. “I know we angels gave you a lot of sorrow, and you have no idea how much I regret everything my brethren and my father put you through.”

Dean huffs a breath. “Not your fault.”

“Yes, it was. I was one more pawn in the game at first ,but I became the one closest to you. And every time I tried to do something right, I just brought you more grief,” Cas rambles on,  “and if I had just stayed away, maybe things would’ve been easier. All the mistakes I’ve done… all the times I let you down…”

“That’s bullshit, Cas. What the fuck are you talking about? Since when I, we, didn’t want your company?”

Cas rolls his eyes. “Dean, I didn’t want to burden you anymore. I thought that… it was better that I stayed gone, and…eventually you and Sam would be alright.

“Oh, that’s so like you, Cas! Deciding things about my so-called wellbeing without telling me! Is this how you show you love me? Staying away?”

Dean’s eyes widen. Where the fuck did that come from? What the hell happened to his tongue?

Cas’ breath hitches and he looks at the ground, and even in the dark Dean can see his cheeks turning pink. Such a human thing…

“Dean,” Cas says, and shakes his head. “Don’t.”

Dean knows what this is about. He feels guilty already, because the last time they saw each other, Cas spilled his heart on the damn floor and Dean just stayed there, looking. “Don’t what, Cas?” he asks softly.

“You don’t have to say anything about… that. I said my piece, I… I spoke my truth. That truth still stands, it will always stand. Part of the reason I said it was because I thought… that I wasn’t coming back. But here I am, and here you are and, and I know how you feel. Rather, I know how you don’t feel. So, you don’t have to say anything, or do anything. It’s okay. Only… it may take some time before I fell less… mortified in your presence.”

Dean doesn’t know what to say. Cas has practically just said that the – the love thing was true. Is true. Well, Dean was the one that started this particular subject, the asshole that he is.

“Cas…” he knows he needs to say something, even if it’s not what Cas maybe would like him to say. “I had no idea you even could feel like that. I’m not, I’m - “

“If you’re going to say you’re not worth it, don’t bother. I stand by what I said, and every word is true. You’re the best human being I have ever known, and I’d like that you at least give me the courtesy of believing in my words.”

Dean is speechless. Once more, Cas is spilling his guts and Dean is silent. He’d kick himself in the ribs if he could. His courage had dropped to the floor somewhere, but he finds it. “Was it my silence that made you leave? That made you do that? ‘Cause if it was, it’s on my top five worst mistakes.”

“It was to save your life. I couldn’t let Billie take you.”

“So you made me watch the Empty take you instead,” Dean deadpans.

“I had to. It was that or letting you die, and I couldn’t let her hurt you and do nothing.  I’m expendable, Dean. Always have been. In heaven, on earth. But in that moment, I mattered.”

“What are you talking about?” Dean shakes his head. “You’ve always mattered to me. And coming here and not seeing you? Knowing you were around the whole time? It was a shitty move, Cas.”

Cas opens his mouth to say something, but he suddenly stops. He closes his eyes and frowns, as if hearing something. “I’m needed elsewhere,” he says. “I have to go.”

“What, now?”

“Yes.”

Cas was never a specialist at Goodbyes. Curiously, Goodbye was the last thing he said before he died.

There’s a bright light, a white-blue bright thing that starts on Cas’ eyes and grows, grows until all Dean can see is light. Cas is not there anymore, but there’s a huge beam floating against the night sky. Dean can see the tips of two huge, white wings coming out of the white-blue light. The words “multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent” comes to his mind and he knows that he’s looking at Cas’ true form. Even though it’s probably wise not to look directly at it, Dean can’t turn away and, well, maybe one of the perks of being dead is that he can look all he wants and his eyes are still working. Cas is awesome.

Now Dean is truly speechless. He’s never seen something so wonderful in all his life/death. In awe, he sees Cas going higher and higher, and he murmurs, more to himself, “Don’t take too long to come back, Cas.”

“I won’t,” he kind of knows, halfway between his head and his chest. What he really hears is a high-pitched sound that he knows it’s Cas’ true voice, but now his ears don’t bleed and he can understand what he’s saying. Wow.

The last thing he wonders before Cas goes up so fast that he looks like a comet, disappearing in the starry sky, is how can someone so fucking amazing like that can have such a low opinion of himself.

7-    Pretend you’re ok with the fact that you never see him anymore. Eavesdrop every conversation to try to get a clue of his whereabouts.

“There’s some kind of rebellion up north,” Jack says. “Castiel was called to help with it.”

“Why didn’t you go with him?” Sam asks.

They’re in the bunker, of all things. Cas hasn’t come back, but here and there he comes to see Dean in his dreams, and at first Dean thought it was a regular dream, until Cas told him that the bunker was ready, and if he wanted to move there, he could.

And there was a freaking awesome replica of the bunker up the hill; the only home Dean ever remembers besides Baby, minus the dungeons and the endless corridors. But the important parts are there: the war room, the kitchen, bedrooms, library, garage, Dean’s cave. Sam decided to live there with him, and it’s been a week – or is it a month? Hard to keep track of things here – when Jack finally came to visit. He asked for a homemade burger, of all things, Dean’s homemade burger, and before he started, Dean was going to ask him if he wanted chili sauce with it. So, he isn’t eavesdropping, he’s not a gossip kind of guy. But Jack and Sam are talking in the war room, and when he hears Cas’ name, Dean stops before they can see him.

“Because the rebellion is about me, partly, Castiel thinks it’s not wise that I go. I trust his judgement.” Jack says. “Some angels think I’m too young to rule the universe.”

“You are pretty young,” Sam snorts.

“Well, there’s the fact that some of them still resent Castiel because of his past actions. It’s hard to forget he said yes to the devil, and I’m afraid an angel’s memory is endless. Theirs certainly is.”

“He did that so I didn’t have to,” Sam says, regret in his voice.

“Of course he did.” Jack’s voice is laced with amusement. “Everything Castiel did since he rescued Dean from hell was to protect him; then you two; and, in the end, me too. He’s the most human angel I’ve ever known; he has a heart. That’s why my mother chose him to protect me.”

“He wasn’t always like this.”

“Oh, I know, he was a dick, Dean told me. Like all the other angels here. I’m trying to teach them how to think for themselves, but it takes time. And every time a group decides I’m too young to rule, or Castiel is still unreliable, or both, he goes there  and tries to convince them to come back.”

There’s silence for a while, and Dean is caught between wanting to step inside or waiting to hear more about Cas.

“I suppose I should be glad,” Jack goes on. “If they decide to go against us, it means they’re starting to understand free will. If Castiel changed, so can they. Although, he’s always had an incentive, which they lack. Anyway, Castiel is good at convincing them; even if he’s my father, he wouldn’t be my commander if he wasn’t a good strategist.”

“Nepotism, huh?”

“Not at all. I offered to turn him into an archangel, since there’s no one left… but he insisted he wanted to remain a seraph. He’s very down to earth, so to speak.”

“Will he be alright?” There’s worry in Sam’s voice. “Won’t they get… I don’t know... violent?”

“Oh, don’t worry. He can handle them. Besides, if they kill him, I’ll just bring him back.”

“What the fuck?” Dean almost yells, finally  going inside. “You’re just gonna let him die? What the fuck, Jack? Dying hurts!”

“So, you were eavesdropping, Dean,” Jack laughs. “and yes, I want chili sauce in my burger.”

“You knew I was here?” Dean knows his face must be comically red now, but he doesn’t care.

“I know everything,” Jack simply says, “and Bobby Singer was teaching me about pranks and sarcasm the other day, so I decided to do a little test.”

“With me,” Dean deadpans.

“Yup!” Then Jack says, more serious. “He won’t die here, Dean. I have his back.”

-----

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to embarrass you,” Jack comes to the kitchen when Dean’s doing the dishes, after dinner. Sam is… somewhere under a pile of books, probably.

Dean just shrugs.

“I know you worry about him,” Jack continues, “I worry too. But Castiel is very, very old. And wise. He may not have always known what he was doing in the past, but he knows now. He’s in his element. You should see him in battle,” there’s pride on Jack’s voice. “he’s spectacular.”

Dean thinks of Cas’ true form and the way he gives every bit of his focus in a fight, and well, he has to agree with Jack, Cas fighting in heaven must be something to behold.

“He went furious when he knew you were going to die; he spent ages complaining about how you were supposed to have a long and happy life. And then he built this part of heaven for you himself. But… dying young was always in the cards for you, Dean. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Dean shrugs again. “I’m happy now. And I didn’t want to have gray hair anyway. Been there, done that, didn’t like it.”

“Are you, really?” Jack asks. “Happy?” He looks genuinely worried, like he doesn’t already know the answer.

“If you know everything, smartass,  why do you ask?” Since Jack knew about the chili sauce before Dean said anything, it stands to reason that he knows every freaking thing inside Dean’s head, right? “And stop reading my thoughts.”

“So, stop projecting them everywhere,” Jack arches one eyebrow. “You make it really difficult not to listen. And when I ask if you’re happy, it’s not because I want to know. It’s because I want you to know. There’s a lot of things you already know but you don’t realize. Not yet.”

“Like what?” Dean is getting annoyed by this enigmatic version of the kid.

“Oh, you’ll get there,” Jack pats his shoulder solemnly. “You’ll get there. Now, how about getting a job, so you and Sam don’t get too bored?”

-----

The job Jack found them was as “newcomers’ advisors”. Apparently not everyone is okay with dying. Hunters are particularly difficult to come to terms with the idea. So Dean, Sam, Eileen and Bobby help them getting used to it.

Mostly, they talk. They show them the neighborhood, explain how heaven works. Help building their houses, finding their loved ones, keeping track of family that’s still on Earth, things like that. It’s something to do, and Dean’s glad to have this to fill his days. Like Ellen said, he’s a hunter; he can’t stay home and do nothing but an endless string of family and friends’ reunions. The boredom would kill him if he wasn’t already dead.

It’s a good thing Jack has been doing here. Heaven residents are organized in teams and they have work to do. If they want to, of course. No one is obligated to do anything they don’t want to. But there’s still a lot to build in heaven, it’s a huge place after all, so there’s work for everyone. People who’s been dead the longest and lived isolated in the eternal loop of their private heavens, have a little more difficulty adapting to changes; but they have literally all the time in the world. Feeling useful does wonders for Dean. Life goes on as it should. Well, not life, per se, but still a good one.

Cas never comes. He keeps appearing in Dean’s dreams here and there, and they talk about nothing and everything, like they always did. Sometimes, he watches Dean fishing, standing on the pier by his side; other times they just drink beer and talk side by side inside the Impala. Dean misses seeing him in person, though. He can’t exactly feel when Cas touches his shoulder, or when he pats his back. Well, he can, but it’s a muffled sensation somehow, the ghost of a touch.

And it’s not  enough.

8-    When confronted with the fact that he’s more BAMF that you had realized, pretend you’re neither impressed nor slightly turned on.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says one evening, when he is in Dean’s cave watching Doctor Sexy reruns.

Dean raises his head to look at him and – Whoa!

Cas is in a golden armor, holding a huge sword, expression solemn. He… glows. Like, there are little sparks of light floating around him. And his wings… wow. Huge, beautiful black wings, making him officially the most amazing creature Dean has ever seen.

“Cas!” he says dumbly, and he can’t stop staring. He has the vague notion that he needs to close his mouth,  but he’s in too much of an awe to do it.

“I need your help,” is all Cas says, and he puts his hand on Dean’s arm and –

They’re outside, in the bunker’s rooftop, which is an awesome place to be, because Cas built it on a hill, the sky seems so close and you can see the lights of people’s houses down below. It’s almost as if you’re suspended between heaven and Earth.

“You alright?” Dean asks when Cas winces a bit after they land.

“Just a minor scratch.”

“Lemme take a look,” Dean says, his hands already on Cas’ shoulders, looking for a way to take the armor off him.”

“We don’t have time. We need to go to hell.”

Dean blinks. “Come again?”

“Rowena, she sent me a message. Apparently, the rogue group of angels that didn’t want to follow Jack, joined with a group of her demons who were showing… discontentment with her leadership. They’re wreaking havoc down there and Rowena’s having a hard time controlling everything.”

“So heaven will help hell. Huh.”

Cas shakes his head no. “Not heaven. Just me. No other angel would follow me down there. But, as you see, I’m a bit hurt and I can’t go on my own. I was thinking that maybe you and Sam could help me.”

“What about Jack?”

“I can’t contact him now. He’s in the Empty again.”

“Why???”

“We need archangels, Dean. Heaven is too big, and we need someone with power enough to contain everything while others rebuild. I – I can’t do everything alone, and… we need someone with more power, who’s not Jack, in case he needs to be away for a while. And I – I don’t want more power. We already know how I acted when I had more power than I could deal with. More pride than compassion.”

“Come on, Cas, that wasn’t you,” Dean reasons.

Cas gives him a curt and serious nod, like he’s saying, “I don’t agree and I don’t want to go on with this subject.” But what he says is “Jack went there to try to find and rescue Gabriel. He won’t be back anytime soon. Will you help me?”

------

Of course Dean will help him. And so will Sam, Eileen, Bobby, Mary, John, Rufus, Ellen, Jo. Some of them are a bit worried about going to that  place – well, it’s hell. But they don’t shy off a good fight, and most were already missing their old hunter’s life, with the absolute lack of things that go bump in the quiet nights around here.

9 - Here is the part where you have an epiphany and see that, even dead, you’re still emotionally constipated, and you fell in love with him.

“Cas, wake up. Please.”

Dean holds Cas’ head between his hands, but the angel’s eyes remain closed. He doesn’t need to breathe, so there’s no way for Dean to be sure he’s alive. Rowena said he is, but still, the lack of movement in unnerving.

“You sure you can’t help him?” he practically roars at her. “Isn’t there anything you can do? What kind of witch are you?”

“The dead kind, dear,” Rowena answers drily. “I still have my powers, but they obviously don’t work here.” She looks around. “I’m amazed I was even allowed to enter this place. It’s… a little on the ordinary side.”

Since there was no one with enough power to open a portal for them, they lay siege in hell the old, fashioned way. Cas knew a backdoor, but it was, of course, guarded. Half the group came in from the front and the other half from behind. A few more hunters, recruited at the last minute, formed a group of twenty something people. Cas, the badass he was, came in from above, breaking everything on his way (“Just as I did when I rescued you, Dean,” he said).

Of course, things went wrong. Of course. None of the hunters died, because first: they were already dead and, second: every single one of them had killed demons before.

The angels were a whole different thing. Sam and Dean went straight for them, no time to waste. Despite their experience in dealing with them, these ones were more than dicks: they were angry dicks.  “Winchester,” one of them snarled, as if it was an insult, and their attack was fierce and fast. But Sam and Dean knew a lot of fighting tactics and, little by little,  they made their way towards the throne room.

Rowena was nowhere to be seen, but behind a huge, closed metal door, Dean heard her yelling “Take your angel hands off me!”

After a while, the group of hunters dealing with the - now dead - demons joined them and, together, they start getting rid of the angels. Dean didn’t know the repercussions of killing an angel in hell, and frankly, he didn’t care. It was hard to believe the dicks were together with the demons in a plan to restart, once more, the freaking apocalypse. Again. One more time. But it was true, Cas had told then on their way here. Besides being dicks, they had no imagination. Getting rid of them was long overdue.

Sam kicks the metal door when they hear a whooshing sound.

Inside, Cas has Rowena in his arms. Around them, several dead angels. She looks a little dizzy, her head on his shoulder. He looks a little winded,   and he gasps “We need to leave,” before disappearing in a beam of light. Dean and the others need to go back the way they did: going up seven levels of steep stairs.

When they arrive back in heaven, Dean has no idea where Cas and Rowena went, but on a hunch,  he goes to the bunker. Rowena is sitting at the war room, elbows on the table, red hair in disarray, head in hands. She looks shaken.

“Cas?” is all Dean asks.

“In your room,” she answers.

So, here they are. Cas is on Dean’s bed, still in his armor. Dean has no idea how to remove it, and he’s afraid to move him.

“One of the angels had a blade near my throat,” Rowena’s voice trembles slightly. “Castiel started to talk to him, trying to convince him to let me go. The other came from behind and he didn’t duck in time.” She opens her hand and shows them an angel blade, dirty with something slimy, silvery and shiny, almost like mercury.

Angel blood. Cas’ real blood.

“It didn’t go all the way in,” Rowena says. “I think he collapsed as soon as we got here. When I came to myself, we were on the floor. I helped him get to your room. He closed his eyes and…” she trails off.

Dean nods slightly. “Cas…?” he tries again. But Cas is still like a marble statue. All Dean can think of is that Cas was already hurt when they went to hell, and on top of that he was stabbed, and now he – he shakes his head to send the dark thoughts away. Cas can’t die here, can he? Dean has just killed a couple of angels a few hours ago, but they were in hell. Do angels die in heaven?

“Dean?”

Jack’s voice is like music to Dean’s ears. The young man stops by the door, all wide eyes. He approaches them slowly, staring at Cas. When he gets close, he puts a hand on Cas’ chest and closes his eyes. For a few seconds they just stay there, completely still, as if suspended in time, but Dean’s heart is aching inside his chest, so he knows this isn’t a nightmare.

“There,” Jack says. “I closed all the wounds.”

“All the wounds?” Dean asks, dumbfounded. “As in, a lot?”

“Too many,” Jack answers. “Angels fight aiming to kill, never to just hurt. But he’s going to be alright now.”

“He’s still not waking up.”

“The damage was in his true form, no less. He needs some time to recover, to replenish his grace. He’ll wake up, Dean. He’ll be alright.”

Dean can’t hold an angry huff. “Stupid angel. He had to go and help Rowena and put himself in danger like that.”

Jack shrugs. “He always felt at least partially responsible for what happened to her. After I brought him here, they kept in touch.”

“So like Cas,” Dean shakes his head. “The idiot’s born in heaven, a badass commander, but he has to go and make friends with the sorry ass humans, he rebels, falls, sacrifices himself a handful of times… befriends a witch queen of hell, almost dies – again – in a mission to save her because he feels he owes her something.” “And who told him he was responsible for her death, asshole?” his mind offers.

“You know Castiel. Always happy to bleed for  someone.”

“Jack, get out of my head!” Dean snaps.  

Jack raises his hands in a pacifying gesture. “Hey, it’s not my fault that you were thinking of Cas saying he was ‘always happy to bleed for the Winchesters’. Your thoughts are all over the place, very loud, I should add. If you don’t control them, they just fly to my head. For example, right now, you’re thinking I’m an asshole, and also wondering what you’ll do for the rest of eternity if Castiel dies.”

“Fuck, Jack, come on!”

Jack blinks and suddenly Cas’ armor is gone. He’s in his old attire – suit, tie, trench coat. Then he puts a hand on Dean’s arm and squeezes a little, forcing him to raise his head and look at him.

“Castiel will wake up. I promise. But the thing is, you shouldn’t be worrying about what you’re going to do if he dies. Rather, what you’re going to do if he lives. He’s here, Dean, and so are you. What are you going to do with it?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, man.”

“And that,” Jack gets up and looks at Dean sadly, “Is why Castiel’s greatest joy so far was just in the saying, not in the having. You’ve wondered why he thinks so little of himself… but have you ever given him any reason to think otherwise, Dean?”

Jack just disappears in the air, one moment here, the other gone.

Dean feels like he’s just been punched.

-----

A day and a night come and go, and still Cas sleeps. Dean never leaves his side. Sam comes, offers him soup, then beef jerky, then a beer. Dean refuses everything. It’s not as if he needs to eat.

“Dean – “ Sam starts.

“Not now, Sammy,” Dean closes his eyes. “I know you’re worried, and I appreciate it, but I can’t.”

“Jack said… um… that I should leave you alone, that you have a lot of thinking to do. So, if you need anything, I’ll be in my room.”

Dean just nods and Sam goes.

The room is dark except for a bedside lamp, projecting shadows on Cas’ face. Looking at him, Dean shakes his head again. Stupid angel. Beautiful, beautiful creature that came into Dean’s life more than twelve years ago and saved him so, so many times. Someone Dean can count on. Someone he can’t live without.

Wait.

He can’t live without Cas. Even if he’s technically dead, spending heaven-life without him is something Dean can’t conceive.

Shit.

Suddenly, everything is so clear that Dean doesn’t understand how he could be so dense. All this time, and his stupidity let him spend his life thinking he was unworthy of love, when in fact… he was loved by the most awesome person that ever existed. And he loves this person back just as much.

He does, doesn’t he? He has always – shit, he has always loved Cas back, and why the fuck did his stupid brain not get to this conclusion before?

Yep. It’s official. He’s a moron.

Jack knew, of course. That’s what he meant when he said Dean had a lot to think about. Even Sam, he probably knew too, judging from the faces he made whenever Dean and Cas started one of the many bickering sessions they had. Or one of the staring contests. Meg, Crowley, all the times they, and so many others, implied there was something between Dean and Cas, and Dean thought they were just trying to piss him off.

He spends a long time thinking, not realizing he has one of Cas’ hands between his. It’s like a twelve-year film is passing inside Dean’s head. Long stares, small touches, soft and private smiles, stupid choices, sacrifices… it was all there for anyone to see, but Dean was blind, how could he be so blind? Cas’ love for Dean was written in everything he did since forever.

Dean, on the other hand… looking back he can see, clear as day, the many, many times he was a dick to Cas. He never gave him a reason to stay, then complained because he left, even if he never stopped him from leaving. He never let Cas feel appreciated. He hardly ever thanked the  guy for saving his ass. He doubted him; he blamed him; he kicked him out of the bunker when Cas was human and vulnerable. He doesn’t deserve Cas’ love. Cas could do better.

But the thing is… he has Cas’ love, and what he’s going to do about it? Because, on the other hand, Dean can also see the trench coat that spent ages in the Impala’s trunk. He can see his bloody hand punching a door when Cas was dead. He can see himself spending almost a year looking for Cas in Purgatory, and refusing to leave without him. So many, so many small things that he always labeled as friendship, but now is so, so clear it was... so much more.

“Cas,” he closes his eyes. “Hear me. Please.” He’s praying, taking a leap of faith here, and he hopes it will work. “You need to wake up. See, I have something to tell you, but you need to be awake for that, ‘cause it’s very important and… it can change everything. I need you, so please, please – “

“Hello, Dean.”

10- Tell him how you feel. Live/die happily ever after.

They’re on the bunker’s rooftop again. It’s becoming Dean’s favorite place.

Rowena has gone back to hell, once her lackeys got rid of all the bodies. Jack went back to the Empty, they’re negotiating Gabriel’s release. Sam, as soon as Cas woke up, remembered he needed to visit Mary and John asap.  

So, Dean and Cas are alone.

They’re sitting on the rooftop, feet dangling, and Dean has a beer in his hands, more to have something to hold and ground him than for drinking.

“Cas, “ he starts. But he has no idea what he’s going to say. Rather, he has, but he doesn’t know how to say it.

“Yes, Dean?” Cas’ profile, illuminated only by the moonlight, almost shines. Everything about him seems to shine, like he’s so beautiful and perfect inside that the light can’t help but spill to the outside. Technically, he knows that’s Jimmy’s face. But it’s so different from Jimmy’s. The hair in disarray, the so very blue eyes with a hint of silver, the perpetual frowny face… and the guttural voice. Traits that make Cas unique, traits that no one else has. For Dean, Jimmy’s face is ordinary. Cas’ face, he can’t get out of his head. Now that he knows.

“You said you had something to tell me,” Cas says. He’s not looking at Dean, and there’s a slight tremor in his voice, almost as if he’s afraid to know what Dean has to say.

Dean clears his throat. Here goes nothing. “When you died… the last time you died,” he starts.

“Dean, please,” Cas almost begs. “We don’t have to talk about this.”

“What if I want to talk about this?” Dean blurts out.

Cas cocks his head to the side. “Dean?”

“It made me think, Cas. What you said, it made me think. But… I didn’t want to think. Because… it hurt. It hurt so much that I put a lot of stuff on top of it, shoved a lot of things under the rug so I didn’t have to see what I’d wasted.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Bear with me. You will.”

Cas only nods, but his eyes are a little anxious, a little wide.

“Then the freakin’ metal bar came. I didn’t want to die, you have to believe me. But – bit I didn’t want to live like that either. And I didn’t see a way to change. I was looking for a job, already knowing how it’d be. The empty feeling inside me, just like when I was with Lisa and Ben; I had an apple pie life, I had a family, a job… and inside me there was this void they couldn’t fill.”

“I thought you were happy,” Cas murmurs.

“Yeah, sometimes I’m good at pretending. But listen to me, I’m not finished yet.”

“Okay.”

“So, when the metal bar went straight to my lung, I knew that the little time I had to live… I didn’t want to waste it in a hospital, I needed Sam to know that he was my everything. He was, Cas, because that’s the way I was raised, that was drilled and imprinted in my head when I was four. And, I had to tell him that, and if they took the bar off, I’d probably die without him knowing it. I didn’t fight because I wanted to die. I just made a choice, and it was to let my brother know that he didn’t have to stay with me in the bunker forever, he could have a life. A normal one. I took him off from his apple pie life fifteen years ago, I needed to put him back.”

“Dean, this is… Sam was devastated. He’s have stayed with you, not out of obligation, but because he loves you.”

“I know, Cas. I know. But I was dying, man. My thoughts were all scrambled. I’m telling you this because I’ve given it a lot of thought, and you’re the first one I’m telling this. You’re probably the only one who will know this, ever.”

“I’m honored by your trust in me,” Cas says solemnly.

“Yeah, yeah, better late than ever, right?” Dean says, a little self-deprecatingly. “But listen. There’s more.” He takes a deep breath. “Some things you told me that day stayed with me. That I wasn’t the killer I saw in myself. That I was good. That everything I did was for love. But… now I realize that all that love, it was never directed at someone that should’ve gotten it the most, because he loved me when I didn’t love myself.”

“Dean, what – “

Dean raises his hand to make Cas stop talking. “The thing is… When you said those words to me, and I didn’t say anything… I should’ve said something. I should’ve. Even if it was just ‘you’re important to me, Cas, don’t go’. But I’m a coward and I didn’t say a thing, and you were just gone. I blinked, and you were gone, and I knew I’d never see you again.”

“I didn’t say it to be reciprocated, Dean. I said it because I had just had an epiphany and I was so happy for finally understanding that I could just say it, because it was the truest thing inside me for a long, long time. I realized that and… I had to let you know. But I wasn’t expecting anything from you, I didn’t want that burden on your shoulders. I didn’t want you to think you owed me anything.”

“But I did, Cas. I do. I owe you my life, more than once. I owe you my humanity and I owe you never giving up on me, even when I gave up on you. I’ve reached to the conclusion that I owe you everything that remains good inside me. And – and then you left and I – why did you have to sacrifice yourself like that?”

“It was out of utter despair, Dean. We were in a situation that we had no way of winning. And I… I looked at you, and your face, so devoid of hope… and you were beautiful’ you were Dean Winchester! I held your soul in my hands a long time ago, and from that moment on, everything changed, Dean. I wanted to fight it at first, but it was useless. That was something my powers could never do, and for all the free will I had fought for, this one thing, what I felt for you, what I feel for you, is the only thing I have no free will over.  And in that moment of – of desperation, I knew I would give my life  for you again and again if I had to.”

“Cas…” Dean says, amazed. He can’t even begin to understand the love this timeless creature, this angel that was been around since the beginning of time, feels for him. It’s beyond his comprehension, but in Cas’ eyes he sees that every word is true. This love, this seemingly enormous thing that made Cas defy heaven and every order that Chuck, Naomi, Zachariah, Uriel, Raphael and everyone else ever gave him, it’s too much for Dean’s ordinary human mind to understand. But he wants it.

“I was… I was so used to you always being around that I didn’t realize that whenever you were gone, every time, Cas… you took part of me with you.”

Cas’ eyes widen. “Dean…?”

“You said I deserve to be happy. Then you built this – this heaven for me with all I could possibly want, but Cas… I could never, I can never be happy here - ”

“Dean, don’t,” Cas starts. “Please.”

“- not without you,” Dean goes on. “Never without you. You can put everything and everyone here, you can build me a bunker, a palace, I don’t care. If you’re not here, it will never make me happy.“

Dean inches closer, until his face is so close to Cas’ that he can see his long lashes and his blue, blue sparkling eyes. “So, I’m telling you…   that thing you said, back there, that you couldn’t have? You can have it, Cas. It’s yours. It has been yours for a long time, but I was too stupid to realize.” “But Dean, how can you –“

“Shut up, Cas, don’t spoil the moment.”

“But I – “

“Shut up, Cas,” Dean’s voice is laced with fondness.

“But you – “

“Dean loses his patience, just a little. “Cas! For Jack’s sake!” Then he adds, softly, “I’m trying to kiss you here, so unless you really, really want to stop me, just. Shut. Up.”

Cas snaps his mouth shut.

Dean closes the distance between them and his lips touch Cas’, briefly, softly. There’s no electric current, fireworks, sparks flying, like in the paperback novels Dean will deny forever that he reads once in a while. There’s only this indescribable happiness. There’s this sense of “this is it” inside his head. Cas is it.

They come apart slowly, and Dean looks at Cas’ eyes, which are bright and moist, and Dean smiles, knowing that these almost tears are of happiness. The same happiness he feels, knowing that finally, finally Cas won’t go any other  minute of his life without knowing how much he is loved. Because he is.

“You’re my best friend,” he whispers, “and you’re it for me. So, if you want, we can, maybe… spend all eternity together?”

Cas smiles, the kind of rare smiles that scrunches his nose and wrinkles the corner of his eyes. The smile Dean has never seen in him, except when they’re together, laughing. “I’d like that,” he says. “A lot.”

“Alright,” Dean murmurs, going for another kiss.

They have all the time in the world, and they’re not in a hurry, so the kiss doesn’t end anytime soon, and morphs into another one, and in so, so much more. The moon in shining up in heaven’s sky, but Dean knows it’s a pale comparison to the shine in Cas ‘eyes.

--- --- ---

About the author

Dean Winchester was born on January 24, 1979 to John and Mary Winchester in Lawrence, Kansas. He died on November 19, 2020. He is the couple's first child, four years older than his younger brother, Sam. He is named after his maternal grandmother, Deanna Campbell. Dean was raised as a hunter by his father, after his mother’s death. He lived the life of a nomad, eliminating several monsters, ghosts, evil spirits and demons, and saving a lot of humans. He also played a crucial part in Apocalypse I, Apocalypse II, the Darkness Apocalypse and in Chuck Shurley’s (AKA The Almighty) demise. He also killed Adolf Hitler. Currently, Dean lives in Heaven, sector 24 – A, with his partner, his brother and his dog. He works as a Newcomers' Advisor.  Mail can be sent to PO box KAZ 2Y5.

---- This booklet was published by Samandriel Books. Editor: Charlie Bradburry. All rights reserved.

----

Epilogue

Snippet of life in Heaven.

“Sammy, take this.” Dean shoves the little booklet in Sam’s hand.

They’re in one on the many gatherings and parties around here. This time, is for Bobby and Karen’s vows renewal. Everyone is there, everyone is happy, dancing, smiling. Dean sees Sam in a corner, surreptitiously looking at Eileen, on the other side of the room, talking to Cas.

Sam picks the booklet. “How to fall in love when you’re dead,” he reads. “A guide by Dean Winchester.” He looks at Dean, frowning. “Did you… write this?”

“Dean shrugs, cheeks reddening. “Cas helped. But I did most of the work.”

“Wow, Dean,” Sam’s face shows his astonish.

“I mean… I figured this could help other people to solve their… unfinished business, you know?  I solved mine,” he says, looking at Cas, who is talking to Eileen using ASL. He’s really amazing. “If I solved mine, a lot of people can, too. Just – just don’t read it near me, or don’t ask me anything about the things I wrote there. It’s…  I still don’t like chick flick moments, okay?”

“You don’t fool me,” Sam smiles, holding the booklet close. “I know you’re a big sap.”

Dean clears his throat. “I know you’re still in love with Eileen, Sammy. So, go and talk to her. Things are different here, but just because we literally have all eternity in our hands, it doesn’t  mean we have to waste it.”

Sam looks at Eileen again. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m… I’m gonna read this, and talk to her.”

“You do that. But maybe you’ll want to skip the part where things got really steamy at the bunker’s rooftop."

“Ewww, Dean! Come on! I did not need to that information!”

“I’m just kidding, Samantha, don’t get your panties twisted. ‘Cause, if I’d have to write about all the times things got steamy between me’n Cas since we got together, this would probably be R-rated.”

Sam slaps Dean’s shoulder, but he’s laughing.

“Ew, not again, jerk!”

“Bitch.”

------

“Did you give your book to Sam?” Cas asks.

Dean rolls his eyes. “It’s not a book, Cas.”

“It’s about us. For me it’s a book, and you’re not changing my opinion about it.”

They’re close, facing each other, and somewhere there’s soft music playing. Dean doesn’t even notice when he and Cas put their hands on each other’s waists.

“Dean, I… um… I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something,” Cas says, serious.

“Shoot.”

“Jack wants to build a new section in heaven, and I volunteered. And I, um… I need your assistance.”

“Sure,” Dean says. “What is it? A new bible camp?” he jokes.

“A beach.”

Dean frowns. “Did I hear you saying a beach?”

“Yes. Like… um… the Bahamas.”

“But… why do you need my help to make a beach?”

“I don’t need your help with the beach part. But I… I was thinking that maybe, if you want, you could um… build a cabin there. And…” Cas’ cheeks turn  an adorable shade of pink. “And of course, I’d have to go there and inspect it. And we would be… you know… alone. You and me. With no other angel or human soul around.”

Oh.

Dean arches his eyebrows. “Castiel Winchester, I didn’t know you had a devious side.” He widens his eyes. Oops.

“Winchester?” Cas’ eyes, if possible, are even wider.

It’s Dean’s time to blush. “Yes, um… if you want to. But if you don’t, it’s – “

“Dean. I’d be honored.”

“Yeah?”

They’re swaying slowly, almost dancing together without even realizing it.

“Yes,” Cas says. “Would you be too embarrassed if I kissed you now?”

“Nah,” Dean smiles. He looks around. Every one of his extended family and friends is there. “They’ll all probably read the booklet, anyway. Besides, the only one that didn’t know we were boyfriends without the fun, was little ol’ me.”

“Good,” Cas says, kissing Dean, the kind of soft and unhurried kiss that leaves no doubt of the love behind it.

Dean kisses him back, his chest almost bursting with joy, with love. And, in his lips, Dean tastes the forever that awaits them.

THE END

--- x ---

[cakesunflower]

Who’s Gonna Love You Like Me? [Brother’s Best Friend!Calum AU] Part 4

A/N: hello friends! i hope wherever you’re reading this, you’re quarantined and staying healthy and safe! this is a tough time for all of us and if you or a loved one is feeling sick, i wish you a speedy and easy recovery! i hope this chapter or any of my writing provides you with even a little bit of distraction.

stay safe, stay healthy, stay inside y’all! and happy reading!!

Previous Parts: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

When Josie pulled up to the driveway of the house during her hour long lunch break, she pursed her lips at the sight of the black Range Rover parked behind Luke’s car. Josie sighed, shutting the door of her car and jingling her keys in her hand as she walked through the threshold of the house, confused gaze immediately landing on a suitcase that was settled on the ground next to the couch.

“Luke?” Josie called, her voice traveling through the house as she wandered into the kitchen. She was in dire need of some leftover spaghetti—so much so that she made the trip back home just to eat some for her lunch break. “Oh, brother of mine—where you at?”

“Why are you yelling?” She heard Luke huff as she crouched down slightly to pull out the dish of spaghetti, straightening and shutting the door with her foot. Her brother stood at the entrance of the kitchen, blonde hair pulled back in a bun, looking unfairly comfortable in his lounge wear. Someone decided to skip work. “And what’re you doing home?”

Josie lifted the bowl to show him before settling it on the counter. As she moved around to grab a bowl and fork, she answered, “Needed sustenance. What’re you doing home?” 

Luke crossed his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow as he asked, “Didn’t you check my text?”

Scoffing dramatically as she shut the microwave to heat up her bowl, Josie faced her brother and returned, “I don’t check my texts at work or while I’m driving, Luke. I’m a responsible adult.” Sure, she remembered her phone buzzing with a text or two from him, but that didn’t necessarily mean she stopped what she was doing to check them.

He rolled his eyes, used to the playful sarcasm she’d become an expert on perfecting over the years. Fixing her with a pointed look, he said, “Calum’s moving in.”

What?

The air ceased from circulating in her lungs, prompting Josie to remain still where she stood as the smile she wore froze on her face. The beat of silence that passed between the two felt like an eternity in Josie’s ringing head, her grip on the counter behind her tightening as she forced herself to process Luke’s words quicker. Less time to make him feel suspicious as to why she was internally losing her goddamn mind. Her heart had picked up its pace, fast in the way it lodged itself in her throat as she blinked quickly.

“I—uh, why?” She hoped the smile on her face wasn’t as nervous as her voice sounded in her ears. “And where’s he gonna sleep? You don’t have another extra room.” The only spare bedroom was now hers.

Luke scratched his beard as he pushed himself off the wall, walking over to the bowl of fruit on the center counter he’d been eyeing earlier. He picked up a red apple as he informed Josie, “Something about a burst pipe? I don’t know, I told him he could stay with us. The couch’s a pull-out. It’s only temporary��he should be fine.”

Josie desperately wanted to ask why Ashton or Michael couldn’t house their friend, biting her tongue when she remembered Ashton only lived in a one bedroom apartment and Michael and Crystal were currently going through a very stressful move from their own apartment to a new house. Despite the lack of bed, Calum moving into Luke’s place was the most logical decision. Even if it had Josie’s heart racing out of pure guilt and nerves. How the hell was she supposed to keep her mind off of him when he would be sleeping down the fucking stairs? Josie had known moving to L.A. would significantly increase her chances of running into Calum—but in the living room? Fuck.

“Wait, shit—I should’ve asked you first, right? I mean, this is your place now too and, like, if you don’t want—”

Luke’s rambling broke Josie out of her guilt ridden thoughts—as did the sudden beeping of the microwave—and she blinked her wide eyes before interrupting her brother. “No, no, it’s fine,” Josie assured him with a gentle laugh, almost forced, as she quickly turned to take the bowl out of the microwave. Her nerves didn’t even allow her to acknowledge the hotness of the bowl burning her fingers before she set it down. She felt a pang ricochet through her chest at her brother’s sudden worry of not clearing with her if his friend could move in to his own home. As an attempt of covering up her guilt, nerves, whatever the fuck it may be, Josie added with a gentle laugh, “I thought I wouldn’t be caught in another sleepover with you and your boys after you moved out.”

Apparently that was enough to have Luke break out into a short bout of laughter, grinning around the red apple as he bit into it with a sharp crunch. Her brother winked at her, moving to leave the kitchen as he said, “You can’t escape us that easily, Jos.”

She could wish, though.

Rather than retreating to the living room or to the dining table, Josie hopped up on the couch, placing a small tray in her lap so the bottom of the hot bowl didn’t burn her lap as she twirled the pasta around her fork. Josie ate her lunch absently, able to vaguely hear the music playing upstairs and the two pairs of footsteps, not at all making a move to go up and see her brother and new temporary roommate.

Luke was only being a good friend by having Calum move in with them, but of course he wasn’t aware of the complication that tensed Josie’s muscles at the thought of Calum living with them. That being said, Calum knew. He knew first hand how awkward it could potentially get with the two of them being under the same roof—the last time they were, they’d crossed the line that had disappeared since. They were already around each other more than it was helpful; this temporary living arrangement wouldn’t be doing them any favors.

Letting out a sharp breath through her nose as she chewed, Josie’s shoulders slumped, disenchanted gaze casted down to her bowl. Was she overreacting? She couldn’t clearly tell and couldn’t bring it in herself to care. Looking her brother in the eye had become hard enough—now the reason for that was living with them. The universe seemed to be against her.

So lost in her thoughts, Josie hadn’t even been aware of the footsteps that were approaching until there was another person in the room, looking up to see the man who had consumed her thoughts lingering by the entrance. She looked up, sensing him before she even saw him, slowly swallowing the mouthful of pasta as her eyes met his dark ones. Calum didn’t say anything, didn’t try to. She recognized, wryly, the reluctance he wore on his face, lips pursed as they silently stared at one another.

Josie lifted her chin, raising an eyebrow as she repeated the same words he’d said to her on one of her first days in L.A., right here in this kitchen. “You could’ve given me a heads up.”

“Thought I’d return the favor of giving you a surprise,” Calum returned smoothly, moving further into the kitchen. He went to the fridge, which happened to be on Josie’s immediate left, given that she was sitting on the counter right by it. Josie’s expression dropped into a deadpan, and Calum scoffed as he opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of beer. As he uncapped it, he looked at her, letting out a sigh as a meaningful expression flashed across his face. “It’s only temporary. It’s not a big deal, Josie.”

She narrowed her eyes, tilting her head. “Do you seriously believe that?” she challenged, not entirely satisfied by his statement. He didn’t even sound like he believed it, so how was he going to try and convince her otherwise?

Calum sighed sharply once more, facing the ceiling briefly—Josie fought the urge to eye at the expanse of his neck, at the way her lips had once felt on it—before looking down at her with a tired, almost bored expression. Calum spoke quickly, an irritated rasp in his voice as he retorted, “No, Jos, I don’t; but I can’t stay at Ash or Mike’s and I couldn’t give Luke a legit reason to deny his offer other than the fact that I fucked his sister.”

Her eyes grew wide, absently glad she didn’t have a mouthful of spaghetti she would’ve definitely choked on upon hearing Calum’s words. With her free hand, she smacked his arm, gaze darting towards both entrances of the kitchen, looking into the living room and towards the hall leading to the stairs in case Luke was anywhere near. Her heart had jumped in her throat, feeling a fire spark in the pit of her belly as Calum’s words resonated in her head.

“Are you serious?” she hissed, incredulous gaze on him as Calum rolled his dark eyes, taking a sip of the beer. No longer did he look as reluctant as he had when he first came into the kitchen, now adopting a demeanor too casual than the situation called for. He looked like he could care less about the situation, meanwhile Josie felt her heart pick up its pace. Whether it was at Calum so casually flinging around his words or at the reminder of a night she would never forget, Josie wasn’t sure. Most likely both. She shook her head at him. “Shut up—Luke might hear you.”

“He went to take a shower,” Calum informed, unfazed by the tension in Josie’s voice. She hated how calmly he stood there, and it only made her believe that she truly was overreacting over the whole situation. But she knew Calum—or, well, liked to think that she did—and she remembered the way he had looked so tense on the night of her welcoming party. If her being in the same city as him had his teeth grinding, Josie believed it was fair for her stomach to be in constant knots because of him staying in her house.

“Look, just—” Calum sighed once again, running a hand through his growing hair, resting it at the back of his neck as he looked at Josie. He dropped his hand to the side, offering a shrug. “Just relax, okay? It’ll be fine. You work during the day and I work at night so I doubt we’ll be seeing much of each other, okay? It’s only temporary.”

It’s only temporary. It was only that one time. The latter were words that echoed in the back of Josie’s head every time Calum came into view. She had a feeling the former would come back to bite her in the ass someday, somehow. 

Her eyes met his once more, her lips pursed, and Calum did his best by offering a small smile before turning to leave the kitchen once more. Josie watched him, took in the delicious expanse of his back under the soft material of his red shirt, the tattoos on his arms feeling as though they were only there to make her want to trace them with her fingers. The black ink looked so pretty against his skin, art on art, and Josie hadn’t realized she’d been chewing on her lips until she parted them to speak up without much thought.

“You’re telling me you’re not the least bit worried?”

About this? About us? About Luke finding out and about everything falling apart all over again even though it was barely put back together?

Calum stopped, shoulders lifting briefly before he looked at her over his shoulder. He shook his head with a proper shrug of his shoulders, raising his eyebrows as he asked, “What’s there to be worried about? So long as we keep our mouths shut, we’re fine.”

Josie wanted to laugh at his words, giving an unconvinced tilt of her head and an almost sad raise of her own eyebrows. In that moment, Calum had become too good at masking his emotions, his thoughts, and she found the frustration gnawing at her when she couldn’t get a good read on what he truly thought. “You seriously don’t believe that, do you?” she still tried by asking.

Calum’s gaze averted, looking towards the wall to his right. With the view she had of his profile, Josie picked up on the way he clenched his jaw, the muscle jumping, sexy and tense and complicated. There was a heavy silence for a minute, the tension of their situation weighing them both down as Calum finally sighed. He shook his head, turning away from her as he continued his way out of the kitchen, not before answering, “I’m trying to.”

The three word answer Calum had given Josie sat with her for the rest of the day when she went back to work to finish her shift. She moved mechanically, an interested facade put up to please the clients she met with despite her head begging her to focus on something else—to focus on Calum and what he had said.

In the midst of washing and drying and cutting hair, Josie couldn’t shake it off. I’m trying to. He was trying to what? Believe that they would be fine? That everything would be okay? Did he think that things between the two of them would never be the same after what happened? The thought of it, the thought of her friendship with Calum getting knocked down several pegs, left an ache in Josie’s chest she couldn’t quite voice. Of course things would be different after the night they spent together in her dorm. You can’t just look at someone, much less a person who was your good, close friend, the same way after they gave your five mind blowing orgasms in one night.

Shit. Fuck, that was besides the point. Even if she couldn’t stop imagining the way he kissed her every time she caught him biting his lower lip, or feel her knees quiver as she remembered the way he carried her to her bed in the dorm. . .

God. Of course things wouldn’t be the same between them after that night. She wondered if Calum had to fight similar thoughts from infiltrating his mind, if he had to remind himself that he couldn’t be thinking about her the way she thought about him. At this point, though, what was the use? They’d already overstepped physically. Thoughts couldn’t hurt anyone.

Though they were torturous. And as Josie continued with her shift, they only settled heavily on her heart. Both of them knew sleeping together would fuck things up, but they went through with it anyway—because they were selfish. Because they’d only been thinking about themselves and their needs, not about their friends or her brother. They had just been chalked up as consequences they would have to deal with later, and later was now and Josie had no idea what to do. Maybe Calum had the right idea, to just try and pretend it was fine. Fake it til you make it, that sort of thing. They’d come this far, right?

Yet each step forward seemed to be harder than the last.

When she’d returned home from work, Josie was quick to rid herself of her makeup and change into her pajamas before collapsing on the bed, the softness of the mattress and pillows and cool blankets inviting. She didn’t quite remember when she fell asleep, but she did remember being pulled out of it in the middle of the night, hours later with a dry throat and desperate need for water.

Sleepily, she got up from her bed, bare feet padding towards the door as she pushed her blonde hair out of her face. As Josie made her way down the hallway towards the stairs, her eyebrows furrowed as a sound greeted her, distant but still in the house. Slowly, she made her way downstairs, and with each step she descended, the more distinct the sound became, recognizing it as uncomfortable grunts and huffs.

She walked into the kitchen, flipping on the stove light which was the dullest, and as she filled up a glass of water, her gaze wandered to the kitchen where the sounds kept coming from. Glass in hand, Josie stepped over to the entrance of the kitchen that opened into the living room, and with the dull light on the stove, she could make out Calum’s figure tossing and turning on the pullout mattress of the couch.

The grunts were coming from him, annoyed and uncomfortable, and Josie realized that as nice as the couch was to sit on, the mattress was probably not the same. She rolled her lips into her mouth, eyebrows drawing together at his clear discomfort. Aware of his schedule, Josie knew he probably got home from work about an hour or so ago, probably battling for a comfortable position since then, and before she had the chance to truly think about it, she was making her way into the living room and where he lay.

“Calum,” she spoke, her voice quiet as to not startle him, standing by the makeshift bed. “Hey.”

He stopped before sitting up, dark eyes meeting hers as he blinked in mild confusion at the sight of her. The blanket pooled at his lap, hands brace against the mattress and providing Josie with the sight of his biceps, in full view thanks to his muscle tee. She pushed back the image of when her nails had dug right into the muscle, of the feeling of his arms wrapped around her in something more intimate than a hug.

“Josie,” he frowned, tired and a bit puzzled. “You good?”

She fought the smile that threatened to upturn her lips. “I should be asking you that.” She eyed the mattress, raising an eyebrow. “Is it that uncomfortable?”

“Uh,” Calum paused with a slight chuckle, looking at what he was laying on as if he was seeing it for the first time. “Prison beds might be more comfortable.”

Josie pursed her lips. For all his money, Luke should invest in a better pullout. She gave herself a moment to consider her thoughts, knowing the danger of even thinking them, but she couldn’t just let Calum suffer through a night of terrible sleep. Things between them were weird, both of them trying to navigate through uncharted waters, but she couldn’t use that as an excuse to allow him to sleep on an uncomfortable bed.

“Come on—” she ticked her head towards the stairs before she psyched herself out of her decision. “My bed’s a lot comfier.”

Calum’s gaze met hers, saw something unknown settle in his features as he asked her, “You sure that’s a good idea?”

There was a burning in her cheeks, grip on her glass tightening as she forced her expression to remain neutral, not effected. “We’re just sleeping,” she told him, hating that she felt her voice waver as if she was trying to convince herself of the truth. That’s all they would be doing. Sleeping.

He hesitated for a moment, eyeing her from where he sat, and Josie merely looked back at him with an expectant raise of her eyebrows. Her head kept telling her it was a bad idea, but she told it to shut up. The worst thing she could’ve done had already taken place—she couldn’t let him sleep so uncomfortably after being behind a bar all night. Besides, it’d only be for tonight; tomorrow, she’d tell Calum to hint at Luke in getting a new couch, and if Luke found out his best friend had a shit night on his own couch, no doubt the blonde would buy another one.

When Calum finally let out a breath and got up, Josie took a step back, glancing down at herself as she rolled her lower lip into her mouth at the sight of her clothes. Her pajamas consisted of sleep shorts and an old softball shirt cut to be a crop top, and under the sudden weight of Calum’s gaze, Josie felt a bit too exposed in front of him.

As he stood before her, tall figure easily looming over hers and dark eyes traveling from her blue painted toes all the way to her eyes, Josie’s skin flushed as she told herself she was being ridiculous. He’d fucking seen her naked; she couldn’t get more exposed to that.

Breaking their gaze because the fluttering of her heart was becoming too much, Josie silently turned to head back up the stairs, Calum’s presence behind her one she couldn’t hope to ignore as they silently moved through the dark house. Their footsteps were light as they approached Josie’s room, though it wasn’t needed—Luke could sleep through an earth quake.

Her bedroom was dark, which Josie was grateful for as she went to the right side of the bed, setting her glass down as she sat on the edge and was all too aware of Calum moving around to the other side. Josie’s back was still to him as she felt the mattress shift underneath her because of his weight, and she played with the blanket as she eyed the wall ahead of her. The room was suffocatingly silent, one she really wanted to get rid of. She didn’t want to be weird in front of Calum—too late for that, the voice in her head mocked—but she couldn’t help it. And not for the first time, while Josie didn’t regret what they’d done, she did hate the tense aftermath of it all.

As if she was trying to somehow reassure herself, Josie didn’t look back at Calum as she asked, “This isn’t gonna be weird, is it?”

He was silent for only a second. “No. It’s fine if, y’know, you don’t think about what happened the last time we were in bed together.”

The casualness in which he spoke in had Josie huffing with a drop of her shoulders, bringing her legs up so she could lay on the bed, though she paused as she shot Calum a look. Even in the dark of her room, she saw the smirk curling at his lips as he copied her position. She had nothing substantial to say other than, “Literally, shut up,” through flushed cheeks as she dug her legs under the blanket. Calum merely snickered, feeling a lot more at ease than she was, and she narrowed her eyes when she caught him just staring at her. The amused playfulness danced in his eyes, shamelessly raking his gaze on her as he sat with his back agains the headboard, an easiness in his features Josie felt overwhelmed by. With a heat in her cheeks, she subtly wrestled with the blanket and told him, “Stop looking at me like that.”

Her words prompted a laugh from Calum, raising his eyebrows as he tilted his head almost challengingly. “Really?” he hummed, picking up his phone. His face lit up with the screen, shadowing the sharp features of his face as she watched him set up an alarm for half an hour before Luke’s went off. Eyes meeting hers once more with a smirk, he finished, “You didn’t seem to care when I was literally in you, like, three month ago.”

Josie’s jaw slackened, an incredulous squeak getting caught in her throat as she stared at him in a mixture of disbelief, feeling the entirety of her skin flush at the blatant reminder of a night she couldn’t ever forget. “Stop,” she stated through gritted teeth, no real annoyance or anger in her tone as she huffed and laid down, turning her back to him as she added pointedly, “Goodnight, Calum.”

Assuming sleep would come easy when there was an achingly familiar warm body next to hers would be foolish on Josie’s part, the blanket brought up to her chin as she stared at the digital clock on her bedside table. The green numbers read 2:56 A.M. and Josie suppressed a sigh. Her shift wasn’t until ten, so not getting enough sleep wasn’t a concern. It was just the act of falling asleep itself, with Calum in the same bed as hers, that kept her brain kicking and muscles tense.

It was silent only for a few moments until Calum’s voice spoke up. “So. . . How’ve you been?”

Josie’s eyebrows raised where she lay, unsure of what he was playing at or why he was trying to start a conversation right now. He was fucking with her, wasn’t he? “Calum, it’s three in the morning and the only reason why I suggested sleeping in my room is because I’m a good person and you were being too loud.”

She could hear the damned smirk in his voice as he didn’t miss a beat and instantly retorted, “You think that’s what your neighbors were saying when you were screaming my name that night?”

Josie’s eyes squeezed shut as she brought her hands up to cover her face, preventing herself from screaming into her palms as she felt Calum’s body shake subtly with the deep chuckles that were escaping him. She hated that despite the memories his words brought up, she felt the tension in her muscles surprisingly ease, no longer feeling suffocated in her own room. “Calum, I swear to God I will kick you off my bed.”

“I’m just playin’, Josie.”

Despite the sound of his laugh making her heart thrum, Josie felt her jaw tighten as she remembered their conversation earlier in the afternoon. So she turned to face him, propping herself up on her elbow as she peered down at his laying figure. Calum’s dark eyes instantly met her blue, and she saw the way his expression faltered when he noted the mild hardness in hers. “You’re completely going against what you said earlier today, remember?” she demanded with a challenging quirk of her eyebrow. “Trying to pretend that we’re fine isn’t gonna happen if you keep bringing up what happened.”

“I was wrong.” Calum propped himself up on his elbow as well and Josie didn’t pull back despite the sudden proximity. She could smell his familiar cologne that still stuck to his skin, tickling her nose. With this new closeness, she saw the way his eyes flickered down to her lips, sending her heart to her throat as his low voice spoke, “You and I—we’re fine. No pretending necessary.”

Josie was having a hard time ignoring her racing heart, her own gaze on his kissable mouth, feeling the familiar pull tugging her towards him and doing her best to fight it. “Unless we’re with everyone else, right?”

His lips curled upwards in a small smirk. “We’ve made it this long,” Calum responded with an agreeing tone. Josie’s heart stilled when Calum’s hand reached up, fingers pushing back a lock of her blonde hair behind her ear, her teeth pressing together when his fingers just barely grazed her cheek, igniting a fire in their wake. He still had that effect on her. “We got this, pretty girl.”

Her lungs were robbed of air as he spoke, and Josie subtly raised her eyebrows as she shot him a look. Her voice was quiet in the dark of her room, teeth lightly grazing her lower lip as she told him softly, “We won’t if you keep calling me that.”

Calum had been watching her bite her lower lip and Josie wondered if it was just as difficult for him to not lean in and close the gap between them as it was for her. Calum half-smiled, dropping his hand from her as he finally said, “G’night, Jos.”

He settled back down, back towards her, and Josie tilted her head back to look up at the ceiling. She could feel the heat of his body next to hers despite the space between the two of them, and Josie rolled her lips into her mouth as she settled down as well, her back towards his. Yet another bad idea for the books.

At this point, she might as well become the poster child for stupid relationship decisions. Sooner or later, it would come to bite her in the ass.

--

tags: @irwinkitten @sweetcherrymike @meetashthere @loveroflrh @softforcal @astroashtonio @novacanecalum @captain-what-is-going-on @angelbbycal @singt0mecalum @hopelessxcynic @lfwallscouldtalk @bodhi-black @findingliam-o @softlrh @highfivecalum @calumsmermaid @erikamarie41 @quintodosuniversos @longlastingdaydream @babylon-corgis @lukehemmingsunflower @imfuckin10plybud @pastelpapermoons @conquerwhatliesahead92 @rotten-kandy @metangi @neigcthood @ohhmuke @old-zeppelin-shirt @5sos-and-hessa @trustmeimawhalebiologist​ @vxlentinecal​ @pettybassists​ @vaporshawn​ @lu-my-golden-boi​ @visualm3nte​ @isabella-mae13​ @dontjinx-it​ @lifeakaharry​ @neonweeknds​ @antisocialbandmate​ @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave​ @calpalbby​ @grreatgooglymoogly​ @sunnysidesblog​ @miahelizaaabeth​ @madelynerin​ @dramallamawithsparkles​ @kaytiebug14​ @hoodskillerqueen​ @theagenderwhocriedwolf @bitchinbabylon @empathycth​ @xhaileyreneex​ @inlovehoodx​ @calistheloml @aestheticrelated​ @bloodlinecal​ @sublimehood​ @madbomb​ @raabiac​ @britnicole11​ @outofmylimitcal​ @wildflower-cth​ @wildflowergrae​ @bloodmoonashton​ @vxidhood​ @gosh-im-short​ @thesubtweeter​ 

[aphrodite-would-be-proud]

omg so I read this manga this morning called Sesame Salt and Pudding and it’s ab this 22 y/o girl who gets drunk and accidentally marries a stranger, who happens to be 42. it’s the cutest lil slice of life just a really healthy relationship and all i could think was this would be the funniest meet cute for Erwin.

Thanks for linking me the manga website anon omfg you're a real one💙🐛

Alright so below is my 1am thoughts while reading it as i listen to a daddy/mommy issues playlist i found online and drinking green apples monster energy.

Tw: mentions of sex | Tw: suggestive words

Chapter one

The girl is really pretty, I'm really gay.

Wait so she married him while drunk and now can't remember anything?

This lowkey does look like Erwin without gel in his hair

...why can i see Erwin as the type of drunk to not only sign a wedding registration paper but also demand both of you must go get wedding ware, paying for your dress or suit.

Consent 👏yes👏100%👏the bare minimum👏Erwin values consent above literally anything else👏Erwin wouldn't touch you without permission even while drunk out of his mind👏again it's the bare minimum👏

An older dude that cooks & cleans while staying home as i go out and provide for us? This is my dream. Stay at home husband Reiner stay at home husband Reiner stay at ho

Ngl i think Erwin wouldn't know anything past basic cooking despite him reading all these cooking books and watching videos, i think if he really was dedicated he'd sign up for a cooking class go get high level skills just to impress you but treat it like it's nothing

...he didn't wanna stare at her chest so he went to clean the fridge- Erwin would def be that kind of gentleman to change his own attitude instead of ever telling you to change or cover up.

I love her job oh my god yes.

Ooo a love rival huh👀 is this gonna turn into a triangle situation

The only love rival I'd ever see for Erwin is Nile tbh, like i think if it was Miche, Hange or Levi then he'll talk it out and either him or the person backs off.

He gets gloomy when jealous huh~

THIS IS FUNNIER THAN IT HAS ANY RIGHT TO BE DOAKDJKAKSN I CAN'T.

I can't even imagine Erwin's reaction if you said this to him, like he won't even be mad he would just be really taken back, standing there like 🧍🏼‍♂️...he'd even be amused.

Okay- okay this is a good reaction...I think Erwin would say something similar but rephrase it to he more subtle yet somehow making it sound dirtier.

Something along the lines of, "well, if you're so sure then why don't you find out yourself."

And "after all i can't deny that i haven't thought about how beautiful looked last night...how the more beautiful you would've looked laying down."

"You looked like a really delicious treat"

"All pretty and alone, tearing about your worries, i just wanted to make you forget them all and leave the rest to me"

I should stop-

Chapter two

HE SAID HE IS HER UNCLE I CAN'T BREATHE I LOVE THIS

Oh shit he overhead them oh shit

Shit is going down oh god

Man if it was Nile in this hypothetical insert then he'd be hold this information like the petty bitch he is and use it at the date instead.

Chapter three

Ngl dude, i really hate it when they treat it like a women's reputation is all she has. I especially hate the purity culture of that a young women can't be a roommate with a man because "what will people say" like...if they're fucking who cares and if they aren't literally who cares? Do they realise gay people exist too and two women have an equal chance of sleeping together too?

It feels like they treat women as children, maybe I'm just projecting bc i live in a similar kind of culture where all these rules apply here if not more.

Anyway that manga is cute, it just angred me that these two men think they're responsible for solving her problem or as if they have any right to scold her or be angry like she's some kind of child and should listen.

It's her life, it's her problem and it's her who will solve it.

DUDE SHUT THE FUCK UP. he's really acting like a bitch as if he has any right to be angry or even judge her oh my god.

"Impure background..." Get fucked.

The only ONLY reason he even can be angry is because she didn't mention being married while they were going for a date but they didn't even go on that date and nothing was official so why does she have to tell him her private life.

RED FLAG RED FLAG RED FLAG HUGE RED FLAG

"get divorced immediately" HUGE FUCKING RED FLAG

Controlling Insecure cunt.

I'm sorry anon that I'm really going off on him and I'm sorry if you like him- it's just that i really really can't stand these things

THE MANGA IS LOVELY THO THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR RECOMMENDING IT I'D LOVE MORE WHENEVER💜

Oh baby, oh angel I'm so sorry you had to go through that, in no way is it ever right to get angry and yell no matter what especially since you apologised and admitted to your mistake.

Especially since he knew it was something you did while drunk and deeply regret it but he still took out his angry on you like you betrayed his trust when you weren't even together or like you intentionally did it.

Narcissistic dick.

I'm not talking about the next scenes because it might be triggering.

Chapter five

4 is missing :( idk how her parents visit went

We just started the chapter and-

Fuck her. Like what's up with toxic abusive people being too comfortable saying these things lmao like they actually take themselves seriously omfg.

Imagine saying this about Erwin tho, like it feels powerful to say. John maloney was right after all huh

Oh

Oh

So we doing this huh

👀

....oh :( we were just getting to the god part, man Erwin wouldn't have let a phone stop him.

Also bless the translator for their note at the end, it's good we're seperating fiction from reality and clarifying things to people on how to act in these scenarios.

Like drama is fun and all, I'm a huge sucker being extra, but things are different in real life and using fiction as a guide to how to deal with these, clearly written to be extra, situations should never ever be anyone's first choice.

Well that's all the 10 images tumblr will allow me in one post, i hope you had fun anon because i sure did! And i can definitely see this as a sweet wholesome Erwin/reader story, and if i ever did a an inspired rewriting of that manga with Erwin i can definitely see it being really fun to write!

Although i will change some stuff like that guy, i know people have good and bad sides but the guy specifically made me uncomfortable for personal reasons, i also Don't like mentioning serious things like anger controlling issues without diving deep into them.

Imma go finish the manga, if you want a part two, or have a different thing to recommend, please let me know💙

[peachiekoo]

One Beep || JJK

“I think it’s unfair that we can’t do anything about what our heart want.”

⇢ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader ⇢ Genre: Angst; Fluff; Romance ⇢ Warning(s): Hints of divorce, slight flashbacks to dark past moments, denialism at certain points ⇢ Word Count: 2.04K ⇢ Posted: April 10, 2020 ⇢ A/n: Hey, so I made a fic based off of a show I’ve watched recently called “Love Alarm”. It has since became one of my favorite k-dramas! I’m extremely happy that this idea suddenly came to me. (I deadass don’t think I’ve ever been this hyped to write a fic) I hope you guys enjoy and also there might grammar mistakes which I sincerely apologize for!

Everything that happened was an accident actually.

Maybe everything would’ve been fine if you only went to class at least a good two minutes later. All of it could’ve been avoided if you weren’t trying to go run an errand for a friend. But then again, who knows?

It was a Monday morning at exactly 7:50 am when you got a text from one of your closest childhood friends, Chaeyoung.

[7:50 am] Chae🍊: bubs,, where r u??

[7:50 am] You: studying in the library

[7:52 am] You: why?

[8:01 am] Chae🍊: do you think you could drop off my paper to ms.eve? i left it in your bag

[8:01 am] You: rn?

[8:03 am] Chae🍊: I mean,,, I would appreciate if you did

[8:03 am] Chae🍊: <3

You sighed and rolled your eyes. Classic Chae move, you thought to yourself. You closed the book you had checked out beforehand as you neatly placed it in your bag before you looked for her paper.

Finally, finding the paper slightly wrinkled, you made your way to the exit. You decided to take the shorter way than the usual way since you wanted to quickly get back to studying again before heading towards your next class.

While walking, you were busying yourself with your phone. Looking at a few unread messages and scrolling on twitter before you heard a group of people discussing a new app. 

It wasn’t your intention to eavesdrop but something one of them mentioned was an app that could tell if someone had a crush on anyone in a 10-meter radius.

“Unbelievable,” you scoffed quietly.

You continued walking past them as you decided to search up about it when you were recommended an app, LoveBeep. You chuckled at it. Do people really believe this? From the app details it’s popular at the moment. Are people just that gullible.

You were so engrossed by the app that you didn’t even see the tall figure in front of you. “Sorry! I-” Your sentence stops in the tip of your tongue when you realize who it is. He reaches a hand out for you without even throwing a second glance at you.

It was Jeon Jungkook. You two were never once friends but you shared a few good past memories together as your mom used to babysit him every once in awhile growing up. Now he probably wants nothing to do with you.

You felt your heart race in anxiousness. You quickly grabbed his hand and pulled yourself up before dusting yourself off and heading towards the main reason you were on the floor anyways.

You suddenly stopped though. You turned on your heels before gently tapping him on the shoulders. He looked at you with an annoyed look shadowing over his face.

“I’m sorry.” you sputtered.

All you heard was an annoyed sigh before he faced all the way towards you. He glared down at you. You felt as if you were shrinking, both mentally and physically. You watch him softly chuckling before he turned his gaze back to you.

“I don’t want your dirty ass apology, Y/n. Your mom has already enough,” He spits. “Why are you apologizing for what your mom did? Did you have any part in it? You pity me don’t you.”

You took a few steps back unconsciously before he grabbed your arm and pulled you close. He placed his mouth over your ear. “The fact that you constantly try to fix your mom’s dirty deeds is annoying. She should be able to feel the pain that she’s given others.”

Your eyes water at that for yet, he wasn’t wrong. She did bad things, but that didn’t make her a bad person. You pushed the boy off of you with resentment in your gaze.

It was silent for a moment before your voice broke it. “You know nothing. Nothing at all. You think you got it all figured out don’t you,” you hissed. “Don’t you!” you raved.

You felt the burning tears sliding down your cheeks. “I’ve tried so hard to be generous to you. Do you think I wanted things to be like this? Do you think you’re the only going through things?” you declared. “Go to hell, Jeon!” you shouted before storming off.

Finally, dropping the papers off, you continued on with the rest of your day. Doing your very best to avoid the brown-haired boy at all costs.

It was a late night, you were bundled under your covers. You looked across the room to see a Chaeyoung peacefully asleep in her own bed. You sighed as you rolled into another position so you could finally go to sleep but it seemed nearly impossible no matter how hard you tried.

You looked over at your phone and you remembered that ridiculous app from earlier. You grabbed it from the nightstand before typing the name into the app store before downloading

Once it was finished downloading, you inspect med the app. The first thing to pop up was a loading screen that displayed tips about the app. Once it finished loading you were introduced to a welcome sign before it faded out into 3 rings with a zero in the middle of them.

It seemed fake. Like an app, a seven-year-old girl would download to try to find her imaginary prince charming. Nevertheless, it still intrigued you. You stayed up the rest of the night trying to find out more about before you crashed around 4 am.

A few months later, it finally starting to begin spring. The incident with Jeon is far in the back of year head as you sit on the bench and enjoy the warm air and the few blows of cool air surrounding you as you took a considerable bite out of your apple, listening to Chaeyoung as she rants about her latest “life problems”.

You feel content for the first time in a while. You feel in your gut it won’t last for long though. You inhale a deep breath to just take the moment in. You let your eyes flutter closed for a second, reassuring Chaeyoung that you’re still listening to her.

Suddenly you hear your phone beep. You look at the notification to see from LoveBeep, saying exactly, “Someone in a 10-meter radius loves you”. You were just about to put your phone back since it wasn’t like it was the first time it had beeped before but you had felt a certain urge to look up.

You looked up to see Jungkook walking past you with a friend. You were just about to ignore the occurrence when you realize, he was, in fact, within a 10-meter radius when your phone buzzed. You felt your cheeks tingling at that.

No, it wasn’t him. It can’t be him. You convinced yourself. You’re in a school, there are tons of other students within a 10-meter radius of you. He was also walking with a friend meaning it could’ve been him.

The incident could’ve been easily ignored if for the past few passing you had with him within the last month didn’t result in your phone beeping. Every. Single. Time.

You kept trying to ascertain that it was another reason for this but what really got you was when you were in art class early, drawing a few sketches to waste time. You had felt your phone vibrate as you got other notification from LoveBeep. You had heard the door open before you turned your attention over to where the sound was made.

It had fully hit you. Jungkook is the one beeping you.

You were currently waiting by the exit of the school since Chae was taking way more longer than expected oddly since it was normally you that was always late.

The majority of the students had already left school, only a few people walking around which you assumed was for the after school clubs. You decided on going into the school to go find her when you saw the boy down the hall.

“Jungkook, we need to talk,” you said as you walked up to him. You felt your phone vibrate again in your pocket before you let out a sigh.

“What?” he asked nonchalantly. He looked up at you like you were, in fact, wasting his time.

You tilted your head at him slightly look at him straight in his eyes. You just wanted to get it over with.

How can he act so damn rude yet still have feeling for you? Seems kinda fucked up.

“Listen, I don’t wanna be here just as much as you,” you smirked at him. “I know you like me, Jeon.” All you heard in reply was bluff of air coming through his sealed lips.

He rebuked, “What in the actual fuck are you talking about? You genuinely think I out of all fucking people would like you?”

Annoyed, you pulled out your phone and went directly Into the app.

“Then what is this?”

“An app.”

“What app jackass.”

“LoveBeep obviously.”

“Okay, and what does it say.”

“I’m not reading that you can do it yourself.”

You groaned in annoyance. “Are you just that fucking difficult?” You shot the phone right in his face. “You like me.” You disputed

“You’re gonna believe an app?” he yapped through tight lips. An obvious thick tension in the air had you fidgeting with your school skirt. The reality of it hit you.

This dickhead, the one who is steadily hateful towards you. The one who you once were close with. Yet, he is someone who had a full reason to hate. Not hurting any less though.

You hated him. But you loved him. Not in the cheesy ‘I’m in love with my enemy’ type of way. But the ‘You and me against the world’ type of way. A platonic love that was now one-sided from something which you strictly blame on yourself no matter how many times you tell yourself otherwise.

Your mood suddenly turning more sour at the realization, you mutter out a barely audible “Why?” before keeping your gaze with his eyes.

“You are so sick and twisted. I know she fucked up everything but you just let it out on me and then when I feel like I did it you have then you yell at me about why am I trying to fix shit that I didn’t do. It’s because of you!” you exploded.

Not stopping there, you step to up still maintaining the connected glare as you continue on. “Then you have the fucking audacity to like me? What the fuck is wrong with you.” You wept, your emotions finally overpowering you. You were so filled with anger but it was useless because there was nothing you could do about it. “It’s so unfair you can live your life like this while I’m just here.” you ended.

“Live my life like this? My parents aren’t even in the same fucking country because of her and you think your life is tough because I developed unwanted feelings for you?” He argued.

Anger flurrying through you, your arm flung at him involuntarily, slapping him in the process. “You don’t know everything!” you screeched tear stains down your cheeks before storming off.

As you were walking off, you heard him yell out to you causing you to stop. “I think it’s unfair that we can’t do anything about what our heart wants,” You heard him let out an emotionless chuckle. “If we could do you think I would like someone as low as you?” he deadpanned before listening to his footsteps walk off.

“Fuck you, Jungkook.” you gritted out before continuing on. Deciding on going home, you decided to text Chaeyoung ahead of time.

[4:51 pm] You: im gonna walk home early

[4:51 pm] Chae🍊: ? did something happen :(

[4:55 pm] Chae🍊: y/n???

[4:56 pm] You: can we talk about it later please

[4;56 pm] Chae🍊: ofc bubs

[4;57 pm] Chae🍊: do you want me to order your favorite takeout when i get home?

[4:57 pm] You: yes pls

And that was the last time you had any interaction with Jungkook.

a/n: I hope you enjoy this series!

[aphrodites-law]

A Bit of Clarity 🍂 (6/?) The visions had started last autumn, a year ago now. It had caused a bit of chaos for some, a bit of clarity for others. Two days ago, Clarke Griffin had been perfectly fine managing both her Café and her stress. But now she was curious - so deeply curious about the vision of herself entwined with the aloof Lexa Woods that it was leading her to complete distraction. (ao3)

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5]

Pretending things hadn't changed might've been the dumbest thing Clarke had ever agreed to do. When Lexa dropped in the following days, sometimes in the morning and other times in the afternoon, Clarke knew there was no going back to whatever their normal had been.

This was the woman she'd shared a vision with - that didn't go away after one rushed conversation. But Lexa seemed to choose the busiest moments and Clarke couldn't exactly leave Gaia and Harper to manage the orders so she could pick Lexa Woods' brain.

It was the doodles she thought about the most. Lexa had mentioned seeing some framed, but Clarke didn't have anything like that at her place. She had sketches and portraits from college lying around in closets and pressed between the pages of the books on her coffee table, but that was it. The only piece she'd framed had been a charcoal landscape her dad had liked and specifically requested for his birthday. Clarke didn't frame any of her art, let alone doodles. Those were for her own piece of mind; a way to entertain herself when all the coffee machines were cleaned, all their customers were happy, and the phone was quiet.

So what could she have possibly scribbled that would be worth framing? And how far in the future could it be?

Clarke was pondering the very question while she went through stock in the back of the café. It was a small, cramped room with her desk in a corner, but it was tidy and, most importantly, it was quiet. Until people bust in announced, that was.

"Hey!"

Clarke clutched her heart. "Raven, oh my God! Why do you hate knocking so much?"

Raven laughed. "Because then I miss that look on your face."

"Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

"It's 6:30pm and you didn't answer my text about the party."

"It is?" Clarke glanced at her watch. "Fuck." She focused back on Raven and vaguely remembered the email she'd gotten earlier this week. Octavia and Lincoln were having a housewarming party tonight and had invited her. Clarke knew she'd clicked on it but the café had gotten a call at the same time and she'd forgotten about it after. She didn't know Octavia or Lincoln beyond meeting them once, so she was fairly certain they'd invited her on Raven's request.

"I forgot. I'm not going," she decided.

"It was rhetorical, grandma!" Raven exclaimed. "Wells and I are stopping by his parents for a bite and then we're picking you up. It starts at nine."

Clarke shook her head. "I barely know these people."

Raven paused. "You know what? I'm not doing this again. You don't want to go, that's fine."

"Raven."

"No, I'm serious. I'm not responsible for your social life anymore. I quit."

Clarke crossed her arms. "For someone who works in a theater you're a really shitty actress."

Raven narrowed her eyes at her. Clarke held her gaze before huffing and throwing her hands up. "Fine. I'll go."

Raven smirked. "Pick you up at 8:45. Oh and I'm pretty sure Lexa will be there. Bye!"

"What? Raven!"

Clarke was in a grumpy mood that entire evening, pulling clothes out of her closet and putting them back in for a good thirty minutes before she settled on what to wear. She didn't get like this. She knew what worked on her body and what made her look like a potato sack barely stitched together. This wasn't a date or even an intimate get-together. It was going to be an apartment packed with new faces and most likely very little room to walk around, let alone take in what people were wearing beyond blotches of fabric and color. With that in mind, she stuck to a navy blue dress and a sweater, having spotted some angry clouds on her way home. She grabbed her coat when Raven called to tell her they were waiting in their car, and was out the door after taking a deep breath.

There was absolutely no reason to be nervous.

* * *

Octavia and Lincoln's apartment in the Green Strip was on the highest floor of their building, a spacious three bedroom with earthy tones and wooden furniture. There was something immediately welcoming about it when Clarke stepped inside behind Wells and Raven, smiling at Octavia when they were all greeted with a hug.

"You made it," Octavia beamed, soon ushering them into another room where they could put their coats.  

They were directed to the living room, a wide open floor plan with the kitchen on one side. Tall windows opened to a balcony, still empty from what Clarke could see. The room was already buzzing with at least twenty people, some that Clarke recognized from the night at Barton, others not at all. She could see why Octavia and Lincoln would want to show off the place - it was perfect for entertaining.

"See Wells, this is a couple's place, not your den beneath the ground," Raven elbowed him playfully.

"You like my den. You moved into my den," Wells reminded her.

"Only because you're freakishly clean and it always smells like apple pie."

Octavia laughed. "Trust me, you have it good. It took Linc' and I forever to settle on a place together."

"Is it pure coincidence you're this far from the Polis Hotel?" Raven asked jokingly.

Lincoln rubbed the back of his head with a smile. "I appreciate my heritage, but some distance from it never hurts. Besides, this is close to Octavia's work and I can write anywhere."

Octavia gave his arm a gentle squeeze, their eyes locking while Raven fussed with the collar of Wells' shirt. Clarke was used to it by now - feeling like the third or fifth wheel, that was - but it didn't prevent her heart from sinking a little bit. The front door buzzer seemed like her saving grace from the display of domestic bliss. 

"Please, feel free to grab a beer, wine, chips - we've got it all!" Octavia told them before darting away.

Raven grabbed Clarke's arm. "Let's leave the men to find common ground," she said, giving Wells a subtle wink before ushering Clarke toward the drinks set up in the kitchen.

"What was that about?" Clarke asked.

"Wells thinks Lincoln is going to be the next playwright superstar. He's crushing hard."

"He hasn't even seen his play yet."

Raven poured herself a glass of red. "Octavia sent us a copy of the script after I told her about his birthday gift. Wells practically peed himself when he opened the email."

"Cute."

"You know him, he only read the first ten pages to preserve the theatergoing experience."

They shared a knowing look and laughed. "Nerd," they both said affectionately.

Raven glanced over Clarke’s shoulder and then smiled widely. "Speaking of nerds, yours seems to be having a ball."

Clarke turned around in confusion. When two people moved, she caught a glimpse of Lexa in a plaid shirt sitting on a couch alone, head down while she typed something on her phone.

"Definitely not mine," Clarke muttered while grabbing a beer on the table.

"What do you think is her deal?" Raven asked. 

"I don't know. It's none of my business."

Lexa had shown at the Polis Hotel she could be the center of attention if she wanted, so Clarke had given up on guessing. 

Raven arched a brow. "You want it to be, don't you?"

"I'm not going to pine over someone who isn't sure if they want me or not."

Raven took her shoulders and turned her around to face the room. "Good thing there's other eligible people here. And we're talking crew; that's carpenters and painters and electricians - plenty of talented, rough hands to make your dreams come true."

Clarke rolled her eyes. "I should've never told you."

"You started a business from the ground up. I know you have it in you to charm the pants and skirts off of everyone here."

"Raven. I don't want..."

"What? What do you want, Clarke?"

Unsure how to even start answering, Clarke took a sip of her beer and shook her head. "Forget it. Let's just have a good time."

Raven squeezed her shoulder. "Let me make sure my boyfriend hasn't started sweating his ass off."

"You really make him sound so lovely."

Raven laughed. "Yep, and he's all mine!"

* * *

No one started a business without some talent in schmoozing. Raven was right about that. But it was one thing to be driven by passion and another to be driven by... well, Clarke wasn't entirely sure. She knew her dry spell wasn't sustainable, as evidenced by how tense she felt most of the time, but the end of her casual relationship with Niylah hadn't been for no reason either. Casual wasn't what she wanted anymore.

So tonight she'd learned some names and talked about her café, laughed at jokes and listened to stories, a lot of them about the visions, still the go-to topic that could last for hours. But inevitably Clarke knew she'd be asked about hers, which was why she discreetly excused herself from a group before it could come to that.

She was sipping on her second beer when the person whose gaze she'd carefully avoided all night approached her.  

"Hello."

Clarke turned from her spot by the wall, her grip on her beer tightening. "This is a surprise. I thought you were hiding in some other room."

Lexa shrugged. "Stay too long in one spot and someone is bound to notice you. Theater people can be… enthusiastic after one too many drinks."

"Something tells me it's not just theater people you keep at arm's length."

Clarke saw something flash on Lexa's face, almost like hurt. It was true though - Clarke had never seen Lexa with a friend. She'd always come to the shop alone; sat alone; worked alone. She'd never been around with a colleague either on her lunch breaks, which told Clarke she possibly kept her life carefully split. Clearly she hung out with her cousin and his entourage, but didn't she have a Wells or Raven in her own life? 

"Well, I'm here now. I was hoping we could get to know each other," Lexa said.

Clarke looked away with a curt laugh. "You don't have to do that."

"Do what?"

"Feel obliged to talk to me because you go to my coffee shop. We don't need to make weird small talk because we're at the same party."

"That's a bit harsh."

Clarke's head snapped toward her. "Harsh?"

"'Weird small-talk' - is that what we do?" Lexa asked.

"I think you made it pretty clear there is no we."

"Lex!" Octavia called out, prompting her to turn around.

Octavia walked toward her with one of the houseguests, an older man with salt and pepper hair.

"This is Semet. We were just talking about his vision- I think you want to hear him out."

He smiled at her. "Octavia told me you were compiling stories?"

Clarke felt she was the odd one out and slipped away.

"Oh uh, yes, I am," Lexa told him, briefly looking over her shoulder before she extended her hand. "I'm Lexa."

Clarke didn't hear the rest, but as she saw the various groups of people talking, she felt out of place. Even Wells and Raven were deep in conversation with another couple, his hand casually resting on her waist.  

The party was nice, and Lincoln and Octavia couldn't have been more welcoming. They clearly kept good company and, in any other situation, Clarke might've been more comfortable easing her way into another conversation. As it was, she realized just how unsociable she'd been in the past year and habits died hard.

Feeling unsettled, she sneaked out the open front door for a breather. Raven's words after Barton came back to her - the deliberate choices she'd made to stay home instead of going out. She'd kept her distances and now it was no surprise she felt so rusty. Nothing had really changed aside from the café's opening. The change in lifestyle had been a shock, but Wells had worked just as hard as her - if not more, especially on their bakes - and had still managed to find a balance in his life. She'd never really asked him about it, assuming it was simply in his DNA to be absolutely brilliant at everything.

But Clarke wasn't horrible at managing her time either. It wouldn't be that difficult to have a life outside of her business, she could admit that much. She just hadn't put in the work and now it showed. 

Dipping her toe back in the dating pool felt daunting. She'd never tried dating apps and couldn't imagine putting her energy into that. Harper was on three different ones and from the chats she'd overheard with Gaia, it always seemed like an endless struggle of deciding what was appropriate and what wasn't. 

Clutching her beer close, Clarke spotted a stairwell at her right and decided to try her luck. She made her way up and stepped out to the rooftop. There was an area with planter boxes and some chairs, which Clarke figured had to be communal. It was a pretty relaxing setup and she was sure summer saw a lot of tenants up here, but the promise of rain and the chilly wind tonight left it empty.

Unperturbed, Clarke walked to the area and stood by the tall parapet, resting her forearms on it. She took deep, calming breaths as she looked over the residential streets of Costial, the city she'd called home for ten years now. She could barely make out the mountain chain in the distance, but she knew it was there, majestic as ever surrounded by the sprawling forest. She briefly thought about the Mountain Men and how they'd survived for a century beneath the ground. What it must've felt like to see the same people every day, to never meet a stranger, or to never feel the sun on their faces.

"So maybe you don't like small-talk with anyone."

Clarke didn't need to turn around to know that voice by now. "I just needed some air for a few minutes."

Lexa leaned against the parapet next to her, though with a good three feet between them.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. I was thinking about the Mountain Men actually. How abandoned they must've felt."

Lexa looked toward the horizon, where the mountains hid in the night. "They were forgotten, but I don't think they dwelled on it. You'd be surprised how many good stories I had to leave out to fit my report. Memories about times where their parents and their grandparents laughed, kissed each other, and danced together. People are resilient no matter the cards they're dealt. They made lives for themselves - different from ours, but who's to say they were any less fulfilling?"

Clarke turned to her, not knowing what to say for a moment. It didn’t escape her that Lexa seemed to genuinely want to engage with her. 

"It must've been fascinating to listen to them."

"It was. Opening the channels of communication took time, but I went into journalism for these stories."

"Have they had visions?" Clarke asked, curious.

Lexa shook her head before taking a sip of her own beer. "I didn't ask. It wasn't appropriate at the time and looking back I know it would've made them uncomfortable. They're very… spiritual. Connected to the world in a way we could never be. I'm sure their insight would be fascinating, but some lines shouldn't be crossed."

Clarke lifted her bottle. "I'll drink to that."

Lexa smiled back, drinking another sip of her own.

"So did Semet say anything that throws a wrench in your theories?" Clarke wondered.

Lexa chuckled and looked over at the city again. "He gave me his number to talk further, but he did mention he wasn't in it. Only saw his brother."

Clarke's eyebrows rose. "His brother?"

"Hm-mm. That got my attention too. I don't think I've ever heard about someone not being in their own vision."

"Seems like we still have new things to learn."

Lexa considered her next words carefully. "Writing about people's visions has been… the most gratifying experience of my career. It's pushed me to think differently and it's changed the way I work."

Clarke could tell it wasn't easy for Lexa to talk about it. Not her work, but the way it made her feel. Maybe it was just a morsel, but she was opening up and it was more than Clarke had ever heard from her.

"I haven’t drawn any conclusions and I probably don't know any more than a blogger or someone's Twitter thread," Lexa continued with a small shrug. "But there's still a part of me that questions the degree of influence. I've heard too many stories about people being changed to their core to not be slightly wary."

Clarke frowned: "You don't think they're a positive thing?"

"I told you about the woman who left her husband because of a vision. Do you think he'd see her vision as a positive? I wouldn't say they're either/or, but the repercussions aren't negligible."

"Leaving him was her interpretation of it, though. We can't know for sure that's what the vision meant."

Lexa nodded. "You're right. It'll always be up to the person who has it."

Clarke cleared her throat. "You and I - we had the same one. I had the during, you had the after. Has that ever happened?"

Lexa tilted her head to the side. "Not that I've heard of, but it might not have been…" she trailed off, tongue-tied.

"What? The same time?"

"Hm."

Clarke laughed before taking another sip of her beer. "Alright then."

Lexa looked away with a growing smile. "You're the one who brought up interpretation."

"Uh-huh. If that's what you want to tell yourself."

It was flirting plain and simple and Clarke was very aware they both knew it. She'd missed it - that flutter in the pit of her stomach when flirting with someone. The first steps around each other; testing the waters; knowing the attraction had to be mutual by now. This was a game she could play. 

"Twice," Clarke hummed. "That's very presumptuous of you."

"I'm just taking the facts at face value. There's no clear indication of a timeline and-"

"Do you know I'm not even sure it was you?" Clarke interrupted.

Lexa narrowed her eyes. "You said it was."

"I guessed. Messy brown hair, slim but fit - could be anyone."

Lexa pushed off from the parapet, stepping closer. "I don't believe you."

Clarke stood her ground, feeling a throb of desire. When Lexa was intense like this, she had no doubts it'd been her. But then there was that other side of her - distant, impenetrable - and the clear image in her mind shifted into a blur again.

"Why not? Does it upset you that it might be someone else?" Clarke asked, challenging.

"You wouldn't have told me if you weren’t certain."

"Maybe I wanted to get you off my back."

Lexa smiled slowly. "I think that's exactly where you want me."

Clarke's mouth dropped open. "Are you drunk?"

"Barely tipsy."

"Lexa. What are you doing?"

Lexa stopped short. "I'm sorry, I thought-"

Clarke was the one stepping closer this time. "No, I don't want an apology, I want an explanation. Clearly, you want… something from this. You talk to me; you flirt; you asked me out."

"I had a spa-"

"Come on. You don't even believe that."

Lexa swallowed. "Maybe I was wrong too. Maybe it wasn't you."

"It's one step forward, two steps back with you. I don't get it." Clarke set her bottle down. "Fine then, there is one way for me to be sure. We can settle this right here, right now."

Lexa's eyes flickered down to her lips before she caught herself. "There is?" She asked barely audibly.

"If you'll let me…"

Slowly, Clarke reached for her wrist. She felt Lexa tense and then relax, holding her eyes while Clarke undid the buttons of her sleeve. When they were loose, she pushed the sleeve up her arm. Clarke felt her heart beat faster the more skin she uncovered, gently pushing the fabric past Lexa's elbow. She tried not to think how soft and warm she felt beneath her fingertips, or if she was imagining the way Lexa's breathing stuttered a bit.

Lexa must've known what Clarke was trying to find out. Her eyes darkened when Clarke finally glanced at her arm. The bottom of a tattoo peeked out from beneath the bunched up sleeve, thick lines wrapping all around her bicep. Clarke's hand fell like she was burned, but a quick Lexa reached out to take it in hers.

"Lexa," Clarke gasped.

"Is that all you need to be sure?" Lexa asked quietly, face drawing closer.

Clarke found it hard to even think. "I-I could always find another way."

"Oh?"

Clarke's eyes closed when she felt Lexa's nose brush against hers, but the anticipation of a kiss remained just that. 

"Then make sure of it," Lexa ordered tenderly in her ear as their fingers laced together. "Close your eyes tonight and make sure it was me."

Clarke felt her skin become heated, the pulsing between her legs desperate for attention. "What if it is? What if it's not?"

Lexa stepped back, her eyes hooded like she was drunk. "I guess we can put my theory to the test."

"Your theory?"

"Whether we're inevitable or not."

"Lexa-"

Lexa let go of her hand and walked toward the exit. "Have a good night, Clarke."

* * *

When Clarke got home after Wells and Raven dropped her off, the stillness of everything was in stark contrast to the apartment full of life and laughter she had been in for hours. She didn't mind the quiet though - loved it, even, especially after long days at the café. But maybe there could be... a little more life to the place. 

By the time she got to bed, her body was buzzing. Clarke turned on her back and took a deep, steadying breath. She couldn't stop thinking about the way Lexa had touched her. What she had husked in her ear. 

She hadn't… dared. Not even once. Getting herself off to the thought of Lexa had felt all sorts of wrong, especially knowing she'd have to face her at the café on a regular basis. But it was unbearable now. Clarke slid a hand beneath the hem of her sleep shorts and between her legs, moaning when she found herself wanting. It was no surprise - not after the rooftop. She closed her eyes and tried to focus, remembering her vision in fragments at first.

But her vision wasn't what she wanted. Her vision was just that - a fantasy. She wanted the reality of Lexa; the Lexa she'd felt against her tonight; the Lexa who'd made her dizzy with mere words.

So she imagined the rooftop instead: her, pressed against the parapet, and Lexa pressed against her. She imagined Lexa's hand going up her thigh, slowly pushing up the fabric of her dress. She could still smell her, could still feel her mouth by her neck. Lexa hooked her fingers in her underwear and slid it down, encouraged when she felt how wet Clarke was. Clarke had to imagine how Lexa would moan; if she would be vocal or not; how deep her fingers might reach. She touched herself slowly at first, head thrown back and mouth agape.

She didn't know if Lexa was a talker in bed, but it was easy to recall the shiver down her spine when she'd told her to think of her. This time her words were dirtier, spurring her on. Clarke's thighs widened as the ache inside her swelled and she added a second finger. 

"Lexa," she gasped, bringing her other hand to her breast to squeeze it roughly.

Her thoughts scattered all over: Lexa gripping her hips to turn her around, leaning down so that Clarke felt her weight on her back. Lexa taking her from behind, filling her with two and then three fingers. Overwhelmed, Clarke turned on her stomach and groaned in desperation, knees pressing into her mattress while she brought herself over the brink. She moaned loudly into her pillow, her orgasm blindsiding her. 

Clutching her sheets with one hand, Clarke's grip loosened slowly. She let out a small moan and felt her muscles loosen as her knees finally caved and she flopped onto her mattress. It had been far too long.

Turning on her back, Clarke kept her eyes closed as her breathing returned to normal. She wasn't too eager to open them to a lonely room, at least not for now. She moved her body to drag the sheets atop her and slipped her hands beneath her pillow, her stomach already in knots at the prospect of seeing Lexa tomorrow. 

But there was no going back now. Clarke was sure Lexa knew it too. No matter what this was between them, if two nights were all they'd need to work out the tension between them, denying it was not in the cards. At least not the ones Clarke held.

-

[part seven]

[licenselesswriter]

1, 2, 3, 4, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 13, 14, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 41, 44. And if I could send more, I would.

Inspiration and Reading Asks:

1. How long ago did you start reading fanfiction? Writing fanfiction? Started reading when I was 12, started writing it, when I was 14, so reading, 19 years ago, and writing 17 years ago.

2. How do you spend your time when it comes to fanfiction? Are you primarily a fic reader, writer, or a perfect 50/50 split of both? I’m a 33.3% reader, 33.3% WIP machine, a 33.4% writer, and 100% mess, I usually spend my time doing an absurd amount of WIP that comes out of thin air, like, I can be eating an apple, boom, Bori WIP, a cup of coffee? Boom, Roro WIP, breathing? Boom, Lucaya WIP (that last one happens the most)

3. Are there any fics that inspired you to write what you do? It’s called Unfaithful (EN), it’s on fanfiction.net, and honestly, it’s so well written, that I had nausea 3 times while reading it, the pain was so palpable that I felt ill from it.

4. Link your three favorite fics right now. Right now, and in order 1 - Unfaithful (EN)  2 - Twenty Nights  3 - Perfect 

6. How do you find a new fic to read? Where do you primarily read fanfiction? Fanfiction or AO3, and have an excel doc with my favorite ships, then I go to the random number generator, putting 1 as the minimum and maximum the number of the last ship I added to the list, then hit random, and read about that ship, keep things fresh.

7. Do you prefer to read short fics or long fics? Both.

8. How often do you reblog/comment on fics that you like? When they are on Tumblr, a few times.

9. Tag 3 fic writers you think are underrated/unknown in the fandom/fanfiction community. I’m sorry, but I don’t know if they have Tumblr, so, amirmitchell, snowdrifts, and Onde Tu Esteves

10. What’s your favorite fandom, pairing, or character to read fic for? Fandom: Game of Thrones, love all those modern universe AU I have to say. Pairing: Lucaya (Not a surprise) Character: Lucas Friar, Portgas D. Ace, Roronoa Zoro, or Prince Zuko.

Fanfiction Writing Asks:

11. How do you come up with your fic titles? Coffee, food, and usually, Spotify, all that, sometimes, make my brain work into having titles about the things I want to write.

13. Do you outline your fics? How much of a headache would someone get if they just looked at an outline of yours without reading the fic? I do outlines, in 5 stages, so a pretty big one. 1 - I write in my notebook, what I want to write, like a general idea. 2 - Post it on my walls and door, to give the story some structure. 3 - Notebook outline the arch of the story. 4 - Outline every chapter on word. 5 - Reduce that chapter into mini arches to write faster.

14. Do you have a personal word minimum that you hold yourself too? Why or why not? I do (now), I usually don’t post anything that is less than 2900 words, Why? because we must not forget that writers not only write for people in the fandom, they mainly write for themselves, and I love to read something among that word count because that’s long enough to keep me on the hook.

16. Do you research for your fics? If so, how deep of a rabbit hole have you gone down by accident when researching? I do research for my fics, how deep? I can give indications for divorce paperwork in the state of New York, even if you want or not to go scorch the earth with the “fault” rule, I can give an appropriate value to an apartment or a house in New York, Texas, Nashville, and San Francisco, and I can do taxes on those states too, and I know more about how high school classes work in the US than in my country, even when I went to those classes, and I’m from Santiago, Chile, you know, in South America, like, the last country of South America

17. How obsessively do you sit and stare at your fic after you’ve just posted and wait for feedback? I don’t, once I finish writing something, I run away, and watch anime for a few hours, or work (Yeah, sometimes I write on my lunch hour)

18. Do you have a WIP that you keep telling yourself you’ll eventually get back to, but deep down you know that’s probably a lie? I do apologize to “The Games we Play” I have no idea how I outlined your 26 chapters, but I’m still on chapter 2, and I’m sorry.

19. Do you edit your fics after you write them, or do you prefer to just hit post and run (because it’s someone else’s problem now)? Sometimes I do because sometimes, I write things wrong.

20. What’s your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process? That happiness I get when I’m in the Zone, and I write something that makes me say “Fuck, that was good”

21. What’s your least favorite part about the fanfiction writing process? I call it “The Deep White”, also known as writer’s block.

23. What’s your absolute favorite trope to write? I don’t write it anymore, because I was banned from a forum for writing it, but I love to write a bad ending, like “Killing the main character that I make you love for 30 chapters in the end” ending. I’m evil, I know, sue me.

24. What’s a trope that you’d like to never hear about as long as you live, let alone write? The “Good girl trying to change the bad boy,” I hate, apologies, I DESPISE that trope, it’s not cool, first, to be with someone abusive, and second, to try to change someone because you think you’re so almighty that you will change him (or her)  because of love, bs, I SAID BS.

25. Do you listen to music as you write? If possible, link your writing playlist. I do, and of course, it’s named “Writing Shiet” because my brain can only process decent titles for fics (Says the guy who once named a fic “No Title”) Here’s the link 

26. What’s your biggest distraction when writing? Anime and Manga.

27. Do you like to give your readers some warning of what might be coming or just slap them in the face with content at random? I don’t usually do it, but when I do it, I do it cryptic, like “You might be surprised, but this, I called in the beginning.”

28. How do you deal with writing pressure (ie: pressure to update, negative comments, deadlines, etc)? I ignore it, If I can ignore good advice, ignore something that gives me more stress it’s an easy cake.

29. Have you ever written for an exchange or event of some kind? Which one(s)? Did you enjoy it? I did but didn’t submit, I wrote for 2019 fictoberfest on Tumblr, but never send a shit, I did enjoy it tho

30. Post a snippet from your current WIP without context - no more than 300 words. "Well, we're still not in Texas," he says, implying something not PG-13 at all. "My God, in what did I turn you?" Maya teases him before getting up and grab his hand, pulling him up. Lucas grins at her, "On," he replies, making Maya flirty hit his chest

31. Of the characters you write for, which is your favorite? Has that choice been swayed at all by your followers/readers’ reactions to certain ones? I love writing Lucas and Maya, and honestly don’t know if it helps me or not LOL.

32. Copy and paste your top three favorite lines/jokes/sentences you’ve ever written. What fics do they come from? 1 - From November to June CH3 A few hours later, Maya heard a knock on her door. She takes a peek through the magic eye on her door and saw Lucas. She grabs her phone and fastly texts him. She was able to hear the 'ding' of his phone, and spying through the magic eye she saw his reaction. "Ok, first of all, I'm not that, second, my mother is not that, and third, I'm not gonna put that there, that's fucking gross, and probably deadly if you consider the size of my hands." he defends himself. 2 - Ten Duel Commandments CH2 Maya smiles at him, "Since you're all Texan cowboy goody-good boy, I imagine you would relate more with the honorable Lord Stark," she teases him. "Says the woman who read three books in a row and texts me at four in the morning," he replies before pulling out his phone, "R+L=J," he teases her, reading her text. "That's private, asshole," Maya recriminates him. 3 - The One Who Stayed CH18 "Then, I have less... GET OFF ME FUCKER!" Maya screamed, punching the person who grabbed her arm, "Holy shit, Lucas." she says, looking at the person she just hit. "Noted, never approach to you by surprise." Lucas says on the floor, "Well, this makes me feel more confident about you being here alone." he says before start laughing.

33. What do you like writing better: one-shots or multi-chapter stuff? Multi-chapter, unless, it’s wedding fics because I love weddings.

34. How much of yourself and your life experiences do you put into your writing? What do you think your readers’ image of you is? None.

35. How much has writing fic changed your life? Not much, but has made me happier.

36. Are there any fics or fandoms you’re embarrassed to have written or been part of? The Glee Project Fandom.

37. Give an update on your current WIP - if you don’t have one, give a sneak peek to a title or idea that you have and would like to write. "Shawn called him, and he assures him that if you try something inappropriate, he has a shotgun," she adds, making Lucas's face go pale. "Well, guess like father, like son," he comments, making Maya show unexpected interest in his words.

38. What does your writing process look like? How chaotic is it on a scale of 1 (very tame) to 10 (you can’t handle this kind of chaos)? As I explained in the outline question, pretty tame if we count that I have my outline process numbered LOL.

39. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on? That I try to make it real, I try to make people feel something when they read.

41. What’s your most popular fic (with the most notes on Tumblr, most hits/kudos on ao3)? Tumblr? The One Who Stayed Fanfiction.net? Ten Duel Commandments

44. Rant about something writing-related. Please, let’s stop glorifying the “Bad Boy” character, he’s an asshole, allow me to explain, Bakugo, fucking asshole, he’s just a bully with an oversized ego, no, he’s not a tsundere, no, it’s not cute, that shit is abusive, and it really makes me want to punch people in their nose when the romanticize that bullshit.

Done

(Told ya I was bored)

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #350

“let’s play a love game, play a love game  /  do you want love, or you want fame?  /  are you in the game?”

Who was your first good kiss with? Jason. Would you kiss this person again? I know I fucking would and I hate it more than I could possibly express. Name something that is on your bedroom wall? Lots of artwork, mostly of meerkats. What accessory do you want in your bedroom? I need another desk to put stuff on. If you could paint your walls any color what would it be? Something pastel. Maybe like, peach. Soft and warm and would really bring light to the room. What does your phone case look like? It's just this boring purple one that came with the phone. What do you take the most pictures of? My camera roll says my pets, hahaha. What is the point of Twitter for you? Liking Mark's shit lmao. What does your planner look like? I don’t have one. If you get into an argument what is it usually about? My anxiety, I think. What are you always in the mood for? Ummm probably a car ride where I can control the music in the passenger seat. It is very, very rare I'll turn that opportunity down. What’s the last emergency you dealt with? I don't really know; I'm thankfully not in these situations very much, especially when you're cooped up at home. I probably haven't been actually engaged in an emergency since I had to call 911 for my mom before she found out about her cancer. She was basically immobile from agony in her abdomen. Do you have a son? I'm perfectly happy without a son, or kids period. Are you married? No. Have you ever worn a suit? I haven't. Have you ever had to call 911? Twice for Mom. How many keys are on your key-ring? Just one for the house. What’s the last thing you created? An RP post would count as art creation, I'd say. Who are your closest friends? Sara, Girt, and uh... Well, they might be it as far as friends I consider truly close to me. I have a few other people I consider good friends, but we're just not like... on that "close" level, you know? Lisa is maybe another, and Lyndsey perhaps, both WoW friends. Are you ready to have a family? I hate that "have a family" tends to mean get married and have kids, which I'm guessing is what you're implying. If that's the case, no, given I don't want kids and am not fit to get married right now. I'm not even with anyone. I'm content right now with just living with my mom and my two pets, who are children well enough to me. Have you ever taken a DNA test? No. Do you have a family cemetery? No. Would you say you have a high sex drive or not so much? *shrugs* I think it's pretty normal. How do you feel about swallowing pills? What do you mean how do I "feel" about it? I just do it if I need to. What animal is the scariest in your opinion? Some kind of bug, probably. Giant centipedes creep me the fuck out, for one, and I've heard their bite is incredibly painful. I've also always been very afraid of Australia's funnel web spiders since watching some show on Animal Planet when I was younger; I think it scarred me for life, aha. And let's not forget the murder hornets. No thnx, rather die. :') Have you ever questioned your sanity? Way more than once, my friend. How do you feel about people wearing fur coats? Are you for or against it? I am VIOLENTLY against it unless it is for survival in extreme climates and you don't have access to other material. That aside, there is NO way you could possibly convince me that it's okay to wear the fur of something once living on yourself for ~fashion~. What’s the worst thing a friend has either done or said to you? Let's not go here. What’s fake about you? Like extensions, fake nails, botox etc. Nothing. If you got the chance, would you audition for a reality show? No. Have you ever gotten into a Facebook fight? Haha, yeah. Favorite flavor of jelly bean? Probably watermelon or strawberry. I'm not a massive jellybean fan. Do you use Tinder? If yes, have you ever met up with someone you matched? I've never tried it, no. What book/movie has made you cry the hardest? Either The Notebook or Titanic. Something you feared as a kid but don’t anymore? Thunderstorms. What’s your skincare routine? I don't really have one. Just wash it with water in the shower and then use a washcloth when I feel the need. Would you rather have a snake or a tarantula as a pet? I want both, but I prefer snakes. What is something you are NOT looking forward to? I both am and am not looking forward to my second Covid vaccine because it's notoriously worse than the first; the only bright side to it is that after the potential side effects blow over, I'm job hunting. What do you usually do right when you wake up? Check the time on my phone. Would you rather eat your pizza cold or hot? Hot, but I like both. Who taught you how to swim? Dad, I think? Can you do push-ups? No. Do you like Doritos? Yesssss. Who is the closest friend that you live by? I don't know. Have you ever banged your head against something? I've had two concussions before, so, y'know. Have you ever jumped on a trampoline? Yeah, I loved that as a kid. Do you like watching scary movies? Yeah. Has anyone ever told you that you have a big butt? No, considering I have like no ass, rip. Has one of your friends ever tried to "hook you up?" Ugh, yes. Do you prefer landmarks or street names when being given directions? Landmarks, by a mile. Although, I'm super bad with directions, so it probably wouldn't really matter much. Do you read the prologues in the beginnings of books? Yeah, you got to. Does your house have more than one fireplace? No. What was your favourite gym class moment? The one and only thing I liked about gym as a kid was when you took one of those rainbow tarps and made like, an air bubble underneath to make this awesome dome everyone sat in. Ya missed out if you didn't do that. Do you think that ocean boardwalks are fun? Yeah. Do you dread when people ask you to sign their yearbooks? Not at all; I was always flattered, knowing they cared enough to want mine. Apple Jacks: yay or nay? I looove those. Do you have a favorite Scooby-Doo movie? Haha yeah, I think it's the second one? Such iconic scenes. It's the one with the Mary Jane girl that Shaggy liked... oh, jokes that went over your head as a kid. Who were your last 3 Facebook messages from and what do they say? I'm too lazy to list the convos themselves, but the people involved are my friends Chelsea and Ian, as well as a friend's mother. Do you turn your phone off at night when you go to sleep? No. It's always on vibrate, and I just turn the brightness way down. What is the sexual orientation of the last person you talked to? She's straight. What’s your favourite hairstyle on the opposite sex? Don't you fucking dare laugh, emo hair is A++. Has anyone ever played a prank on you? What happened? Not a big one, no. Do you like the Silent Hill movies? Do I?! I love the first one (though for a while I wasn't very happy they swapped the lead role from Harry to his wife), and while the second is literal trash story-wise and it's ALL over the damn place, I still enjoy it with just how much I adore SH as a whole. What movie scared you the most out of any other movies? The Rite, because the concept of being raped and impregnated by a demon is fucking horrifying to me. Have you ever wanted to be on American Idol? When was this? Nah. Name 5 things you don’t believe in. 1.) "Everything happens for a reason;" 2.) karma; 3.) destiny/fate; 4.) psychics, fortune tellers, all that; and 5.) luck, at least in the sense of someone having set "good" or "bad" luck. If you could have any friend that you’ve lost back, who would you pick? Probably Megan. If you have pets, who normally puts food and water in their dish? Me for both of them. Do you organize the pictures on your computer into different folders or are they all just under “My Pictures”? I have folders. Do you think if someone is in a relationship, that it is acceptable to have sleepovers with other people of their preferred sex? Eh, nah, that feels a bit far to me. I am very firmly for friends still being able to hang out even if they're each other's preferred gender, but a sleepover sounds a bit too intimate, even without sharing a bed. Would you shoot a gun if given the chance? If you’ve shot a gun before, how many different types of guns have you shot? No. I'm very intimidated by guns and nearly shook when I merely handed a friend his (not for anything bad, he just carried it with him when he goes out), and I've got noooo plans of holding one again unless my life depends on it. Do you feel uncomfortable sharing things like artwork or poetry you’ve written? Is it because you don’t think it’s good enough to show off or because it’s too personal? You. Have. Zero. Idea. It's for both reasons, and it's far more severe in person. Online, I actually don't mind much, oddly enough... I can't quite pin down why. Do you have any siblings you absolutely despise? Why do you despise them? No. Do knives scare you? Is it from watching scary movies? Knives scare me like five times more than guns. Scary movies have nothing to do with it, though. They're just so sharp and the idea of being stabbed by one is terrifying. As someone with a history of self-mutilation too (not with knives, but I've thought about it and once planned to slit my throat with one, but Mom stopped me), they just make me incredibly uncomfortable to the point I can barely hold a "real" knife to just slice food. Have you ever climbed a chain-link fence? Many times. What is your LEAST favorite Disney animated movie? That I've seen, uhhhhh... I don't know man, there are way too many Disney movies lmao. Who was the last person’s house you went to besides your own? My sister's. On YouTube, who are two people you find hilarious? I'm just counting GameGrumps as one, and then you can't forget Shane Dawson, regardless of the controversy. He probably made me laugh more than any other YouTuber. Do you shave your pits? Yeah. Do you know anyone who has been on life support, and survived? I don't think so. Besides the USA, what is your favorite country? I'm not nearly informed enough about foreign countries' politics and laws and mannerisms to have a favorite. Would you rather go to Europe or Asia? Europe. Would you rather go to Africa or Australia? Africa. Would you rather go to Mexico or Canada? Canada. Do you think emo/scene hair is attractive? I love emo and scene hair, don't @ me, it's cute as fuck. Have you ever seen a ghost orb picture? Lots, actually, at one of my old houses that I totally know was haunted. Do you think abortion should be illegal? NO. You would NOT end abortions. You would end SAFE abortions. Do any of your pets have strange habits? Explain? Venus, my ball python, is extremely odd with food to the point I sometimes worry about her, but she's always been this way and is healthy, so I guess it's nothing really worth fretting over. Anyway, when I place her rat in her terrarium, she gets excited first and will pretty much frantically examine her surroundings, like slithering around everywhere, and even when she has clearly found the rat (she'll even prod it with her snout), she usually won't immediately eat. She just like... sits there and has to continue to verify for ten minutes that it's food. I know it's thawed perfectly, btw. So anyway, THAT'S weird... As for Roman, dear god, that cat's just weird, lmao. Especially in the morning, he's very hyper and will bolt around the house sometimes, he "plays" with nothing all the time, he "meerkat"s at nothing that I can nothing, etc. etc. etc. He's a weirdo lol. Have you ever told an extremely inappropriate joke? Oh god, I said something really inapprops once when my friend Chelsea startled me. I won't be repeating it lmao. Who in life have you felt the strongest need to protect? Sara, I think. Who have you most feared in your life? My dad. He doesn't scare me anymore, but he did. What was the quickest friendship you ever made? Oh idk. What is the worst word anyone ever used to describe you? "Martyr." And not the kind that dies for their beliefs. It hurt me so badly to know someone thought of me that way, and I'll probably never let it go. If you have any pets, were they adopted from the humane society? No. Roman is one of the billion kittens born to the cats my sister's in-laws have, and Venus is from a ball python breeding business in Florida called The Gourmet Rodent (they sell f/t rodents too, obvs) Do you like home design, like picking out paint colors and furniture? Not really. My grandmother though, whew, that was her calling for sure. Have you seen any of the old James Bond movies? Nope. List all of your features that you have ever gotten compliments on: My hair, my eyes, my tattoos, my hands, I think my nose, my dimples, my smile, and my boobs lmao. Have you ever been in a hot air balloon? And if not, would you ever want to go in one? I haven't. I think it'd be kinda cool, but they seem too easy to fall out of, and I'm afraid of heights. I'd probably go in one if given the opportunity. Do you have any stains on your shirt currently? No, but there are two small rips. It's just an old tank top. Do you listen to local bands? No. Not that I'm opposed, I just don't know of any I really enjoy. Do you watch YouTube videos often? Many, many daily. Do your parents fight? Do they even talk at all? They're divorced; they used to fight a lot when they were together. Now they only talk if they have reason to. Have you ever watched a movie that's in a complete different language, so you had to read sub-titles? No. Do people with yellow teeth disgust you? Dude, fuck off, no. My teeth are kinda yellow, and I'm extremely self-conscious about it, so seriously fuck this question. You never know for sure why someone's teeth may seem yellowish. Do you drink alcohol on New Year’s Eve? Usually a drink or two. Do you wear rings? I always have two on, yeah. Are you hungry right now? No, I literally just ate a breakfast bowl. Have you ever tried smoking a cigarette? No; I haven't the slightest interest in doing so.

[slippinmickeys]

Of The Eight Winds - Part 4

This is part three in who knows how many from the prompt from @sunflowerseedsandscience : “Mulder is unhappily married when Scully is partnered with him, and while he doesn’t cheat (because sorry that’s not romantic), he falls for her so hard that he finally gets the courage to end the marriage and start fresh.”

Links to parts one, two and three.

1

He was 26 when she met him, rarefied New England stock. She could smell the old money on him, but what grabbed her at first were his eyes. Mossy green with flecks of brown one minute, straight hazel the next. His jaw was just on this side of square, his brown locks thick and he was cut with the harmony of a Canova sculpture.

She had just graduated from Georgetown and was out celebrating with friends. He was on a rare evening off with other cadets from the academy and she played just hard enough to get.

She sparred with him over politics and art history, gave him his space and fucked him like a port wench. The months flew by.

With his lost baby sister and broken home, he was putty in her hands; addicted to her drama, which she knew when to rein in. Both of his parents loved her--she was the daughter they’d barely had. He asked her to marry him the week he graduated.

The carats were sufficient, her mother was thrilled. Another box checked by 24.

2

Their first year or two of marriage had been good, she thought. She was hired on at Schuster & McClure and started bringing home a decent salary. He was mostly a peon at the FBI, and was home every night by 6, the weekends were theirs.

He took her antiquing, apple picking, because that’s what she thought you were supposed to do.

Thanksgiving with her parents, Christmas with his mom, New Years with his dad.

It wasn’t until he started with the Behavioral Sciences Unit that things started to glitch. He’d work cases where he didn’t come home until after 10:00pm and worked through the weekends. His mood was dark, he frequently didn’t want sex. When brunch with their friends was on the schedule, she went alone.

She didn’t handle it well. She knew she didn’t. She should have been supportive but was frequently petulant. He started staying at work late even when he didn’t have a case.

She got promoted twice, started taking out clients. She got nicer clothes, nicer shoes, better haircuts. He barely noticed. She’d stay out later, he didn’t care. He seemed perpetually in a dark place.

She started doing things she knew would piss him off just to get his attention. Nothing worked.

A week after she cheated on him for the first time, he came home early, said he wanted to talk to her about something. Her gut roiled and she poured herself a drink, then a second. She was certain he knew.

Then he smiled at her, told her about files he had found in the basement of the Hoover Building, unsolved cases, weird cases, cases with no earthly explanation. His excitement was contagious. She asked questions, told him he should go for it, see if he could get the assignment.

They made love that night for the first time in six weeks.

She swore to herself she’d never cheat on him again.

3

It started to feel like the X-Files was the other woman. He was obsessed with his work, and she felt lonely. Her oath to fidelity did not take.

One night he came home, upset, and once again, she thought she’d been caught.

This time, however, it was because his unit had been assigned another agent.

“That’s great!” she said, feeling guilty and overcompensating with enthusiasm, “that means they’re taking you and your work seriously!”

He gave her a pitying look. She hated his pity. It made her feel stupid.

“No,” he said, “it means they’re sending someone down to spy on me.” He was directing his foul mood at her and talking down to her in the process.

“Don’t do that,” she said, “I hate when you do that.”

“Do what?”

“Condescend. You’re pissed off and you’re taking it out on me.”

He rubbed a hand over his face.

“You’re right, I’m sorry.”

She wasn’t expecting him to relent, it made her feel off balance.

“What if you asked for a reassignment? Did something different?”

He narrowed his eyes at her.

“Do you even know what I do? Why I do it?”

It felt like a trap. She generally tuned out when he talked about work. He sounded ridiculous and it made her look ridiculous, too. Every time one of their friends — of which there were fewer and fewer these days —asked about his job, she changed the subject, steered the conversation to something-anything else.

When she didn’t answer right away, he leaned back.

“Of course you don’t,” he said.

She felt the poison of anger tip into her bloodstream.

“What do you want me say? ‘I’m sorry you’re being spied on at work?’ Do you know how crazy and paranoid that sounds? Are you listening to yourself?”

“Am I listening, Lauren?” he said, his voice low and dark, “I’m the only one in this house that does.”

With that, he grabbed his wallet and keys, slammed the door behind him.

She called Peter and told him to come over. They had only ever met at hotels before.

In some ways, Fox wasn’t paranoid enough, she thought with satisfaction, with disgust.

4

She had been operating on the assumption that Special Agent Scully was a man for the better part of 5 months when Fox finally dropped a pronoun.

“Wait, she?” Lauren said. “What do you mean she?”

“For fuck’s sake,” he said, “you could give a shit about my career. Why take an interest now?”

They picked fights now, that’s all they did.

“Are you fucking her?”

She knew she said the wrong thing the second the words were out of her mouth. She’d only wanted to hurt him.

He ground his teeth, closed his eyes. The veins on his temples throbbed visibly beneath his skin. He took a deep breath.

“No, Lauren,” he said, his voice as cold as ice, “I’m not you.”

5

She dropped by the Hoover building early on his birthday to take him to lunch. She pretended she’d misremembered the time she was supposed to meet him and took the elevator down to his office. She’d only been there one other time.

This woman, this ‘Scully’, didn’t seem like a threat, for which she was grateful. The woman was short, had a pretty face, but a bit of baby fat through her cheeks. Apparently she was a doctor, but dressed like a stand-in on Murphy Brown.  

While at lunch she’d ordered a glass of champagne. She felt like celebrating.

6

Something happened at the FBI. He was reassigned. He wouldn’t tell her much. She tried to make it up to him--introduced him to one of her clients, Senator Matheson, who had shown interest in her husband’s work.

He came home at normal hours for a while, but was distant. Closed off.

He flew to Puerto Rico for a long weekend without even fucking telling her.

Then she got a call from him--his former partner, the Scully woman, had been kidnapped from her apartment. He wasn’t sure when he’d be home, but he was working the case and would call her. She heard nothing.

She saw him briefly on the news, called him over and over, but he never picked up his phone.

He walked through the door after being gone for days with his hand in a cast. She asked him what happened, but he didn’t talk, just stripped to his boxers and went to bed.

In the morning, she made him her famous waffles and gave him his space. He kissed her before he left for work that day, but only on the forehead. They had not spoken a word.

7

They found a new normal that lasted a couple years. He had the job he wanted back, working with his partner, Scully. She loved her job, thrived on it, started spending most of her time at the office or out with clients. They didn’t see each other much and found that if they didn’t see each other, they didn’t fight.

He was gone more often than he wasn’t.

Her mother got sick with cancer, fought for months. Fox was supportive, attentive, but still a bit distant. She took whatever she could get. When her mother died, Fox picked her up at the hospital, called her father, made all the arrangements.

She needed to get away, so she asked him to take her to Mexico for her 30th birthday. He couldn’t make it work, but suggested she take a few friends with her and really do it up right.

Everyone but Amy made it -- she was eight months pregnant. They got absolutely bombed on their first night at the resort--someone had thought it a good idea to mix Dos Equis with Tequila (“beergaritas, Lauren!”) and they only found out April was pregnant when she was walking around getting everyone water, her drink sitting untouched on the balcony.

They talked about their jobs, their husbands, and everyone seemed so blissfully happy. Lauren felt like she was missing something. At 1:00am she slunk into one of the bedrooms and called Fox. She didn’t remember exactly what she said.

When April’s husband met them at the airport when they landed at Dulles, he had eyes only for his wife and caressed her stomach before he even kissed her. He carried her bags and treated her like fine china.

When Lauren got home, she told Fox she wanted to have a baby. She felt something like hope when he told her they could talk about it. “Not right now,” he’d said, “but we can talk about it.”

8

When he asked her for a divorce a couple weeks later, she was so taken aback, she asked him to repeat himself.

“I can’t do this anymore, Lauren,” he’d said, “I want a divorce.”

His eyes were full of sympathy and she hated him for it.

She threw words at him, objects, anything she thought might hurt him like he was hurting her. That fucking baseball--she hated baseball--the antique compass from his fucking partner--the one that got put on the shelf next to their wedding picture. Slurs, tears, things--she threw them all.

He took it, he took her words, he absorbed her tears. And then he picked up the compass and he walked away.

His things were gone from the condo two weeks later.

9

After court, she didn’t see him for almost two years. He was with his partner, Scully.

She’d been leaving a restaurant in Old Town Alexandria, had met a few friends for lunch on a Saturday, when she saw them walking by.

She’d been about to raise her hand in greeting and say hello when Fox reached for Scully’s hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss. Lauren froze in her tracks.

He had a lightness about him she hadn’t seen in years, and the way he was looking at Scully--who had learned how to dress since Lauren saw her last and looked nothing short of stunning--he had never looked at her like that. He practically glowed from within. Scully returned his look with an easy affection.

They continued walking, now hand-in-hand, and Lauren felt something that wasn’t quite jealousy. She thought she could be glad for him. Someday.

10

One year later, she finally sought him out.

He agreed to meet her by the carousel on the National Mall on a bright Saturday morning in summer.

He was there when she arrived, sitting on a bench, gently pushing a navy blue stroller back and forth in a rocking motion.

She approached him.

“Fox,” she said, her voice low and quiet in deference to the maybe-sleeping child.

He looked up in surprise and she gave him a small, expectant smile.

“It’s okay,” he said to her in normal voice, smiling back, “she’s out.”

Lauren felt a genuine smile break out on her face.

“You’re a dad,” she said sweetly.

“Yeah,” Fox replied, appearing almost as surprised as she was. “She’s four months old, now.”

“What’s her name?” Lauren asked, sitting down next to him.

“Lily,” he said.

She nodded, tried to peek at the baby, who was mostly covered in a light blanket.

She leaned back and looked at him.

“How are you, Fox?”

“I’m good,” he said, “really good.”

“I’m glad,” she said, and found she was.

“And you?” he asked.

“I’m good,” she answered. “How are your parents?”

“Same as always,” he said. “How’s your dad?”

“Dad’s good,” she said on a laugh, “he moved to Arizona, and is quite the hot ticket at the retirement community.”

Fox laughed.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he said.

There was a comfortable silence for a few moments. The carousel music filled the air, punctuated by the occasional laugh of a child. A group of Chinese tourists walked past them, cameras out.

She reached in her pocket, pulled out a small pouch.

“Here,” she said, “this is yours.”

He opened the pouch, shook it out into his hand. His grandmother’s three-diamond ring fell onto his palm, 2.5 carats of antique beauty.

He looked at it, flipped it over in his hand.

“Lauren,” he finally said, moving his hand toward her, to give it back, “I gave this to you.”

She reached out and closed his hand around the ring.

“And I’m giving it back,” she said.

He opened his mouth to protest and she nodded at the stroller.

“Give it to Scully,” she said gently, “or save it for Lily,” his eyes rose to meet hers and she knew she was making the right decision, “it never really belonged to me.” She tapped her finger gently on his chest above his heart, “And neither did this.”

After a moment he nodded gently, opened up his hand to look again at the ring.

Then the baby started making noises and the moment was over. He gathered up the small child and brought her up to rest against his shoulder.

“Almost time to find Mom for lunch,” he said.

Lauren rose from the bench and bent forward to look fondly at the baby. She had bright blue intelligent eyes and wispy apricot hair.

She reached out and touched a finger to the baby’s hand.

“Nice to meet you, Lily,” she said, then ran a finger one last time down his raspy jaw. “Be well, Fox.”

He hoisted the baby up and nodded at her.

“Be well, Lauren.”

Lauren turned from them both and slowly made her way home.

[andaleduardo]

How to Break Your Heart and Make Sure It Stays Broken

Read the 1st chapter on ao3

Summary:  In which 15-year-old Richie confesses his feelings for Eddie on New Year’s Eve and they don’t talk about it for the next 4 years.

31st December 2010, Friday

 “Would you put that thing down for one second?”

Richie looks up from the phone screen to his mother’s eyes. “Mom, this is the future. Do you want me to put the future down?”

“I want you to get off that sofa and help us serve the champagne.”

“Don’t make us regret giving you the future, Richie.” His father added as he entered the living room with a bottle of champagne on one hand and one of sparkling apple juice in the other.

“Fine.” He pockets the phone as he gets up to clean up the dinner plates. “But I gotta text the losers at midnight, we have a group chat on Facebook now-”

“Yes, son, we know. That’s all you’ve been talking about lately.” Wentworth interrupts while fumbling with the cork on the sparkling juice bottle.

“One day I’ll figure out why adults hate technology!” Richie shouts as he enters the kitchen. He places the plates on the sink and grabs three champagne glasses from the special collection his mom owns before going back to the living room. These things look like they’ll break if you so much as breathe in their direction.

“We don’t hate technology.” Maggie complains as she tries to rub away a stain in the tablecloth. “You kids just love it too much.”

That makes Richie laugh. “You don’t even let dad teach you how to use his comput-

The juice bottle’s cork comes off with a loud POP! that startles Richie and sends one of the glasses tumbling down onto the carpeted floor. It shatters into a million pieces despite the soft surface.

“Richie!” His mom cries out loud.

“I’m sorry!” Quickly, he places down the two survivor glasses. He can hear his dad trying not to laugh.

“Your grandma gifted these to us after we got married…” She laments as she looks at the sparkling shards at their feet.

“I’ll clean this up, you two be careful not to step on it.” Went adds before going to get the vacuum cleaner from the bottom of the pantry.

“I am sorry.”

With a sigh, Maggie hugs him sideways. “It’s okay, I guess we’ll never have 10 people over at the same time.”

“Yeah, we probably won’t.”

 Once the carpet is clean, the champagne and false champagne are served and there’s only 5 minutes left till midnight, Richie takes his phone out and opens Eddie’s contact. He stares at the text he wrote probably 4 hours ago and reads it over and over again just to really make sure there’s no mistakes.

The thing is, tonight, Richie is going to fuck up his entire life. Or, at least that’s what it feels like.

You see, Eddie was the last of the group to get a phone. He got it on Christmas as a gift from his uncle, and needless to say Sonia didn’t like the idea. She only gave it to him one or two days ago after she figured out how to make it as “safe” as possible for his son. That means Eddie has exactly 3 numbers on his contact list. The number to his house, the number to Bill’s house, and Bill’s number. Because, apparently, that’s the only friend of Eddie’s Sonia trusts.

Stan’s Jewish, Mike is home-schooled (and black, although Sonia never admits that’s the real reason she doesn’t like the boy), Ben moved into town not so long ago, Bev is a girl, and Richie is Richie.

Bill’s family goes to church every Sunday and they’ve known each other ever since both boys were little. Hence why Eddie’s contact list is sadder than the life of their math teacher.

But Richie is weirdly thankful for this because that means Eddie doesn’t have his number. However, Bill texted them Eddie’s contact yesterday, saying they probably shouldn’t send him anything before school starts because Sonia will most likely check his phone.

Well, Sonia can go to hell because Richie is about to do something very stupid.

He’s a true romantic at heart, alright? Plus, he’s been in love with Eddie since he was twelve (or at least he realized it when he was twelve) and this secret is starting to claw up at his insides as if he had swallowed a dysfunctional cat.

In other words, it’s driving him crazy and he has to do something about it.

Now, he’s not mental. He’s not going to confess his feelings or anything. Right, as if. He’s simply going to become a secret admirer or something cheesy like that.

Yesterday, he sneaked into his dad’s computer while both his parents were taking an afternoon nap and searched for “romantic quotes” on Google. He typed down the one he liked the most, deleted the history, and then tried to convince himself this wasn’t the worst plan of his entire life.

It seemed like a very clever plan the closer to midnight it got.

“Alright, my loves.” Maggie gives everyone their respective glass. The non-alcoholic, sad-looking one for Richie, and the fun-looking ones for the adults. Bullshit, if you ask him.

“How come I never get to drink the real thing?”

“Well, you hate it.” Maggie shrugs. “You’ve said so the past two years that we’ve let you had one sip for the toast.”

“But I’m older now, I can handle it.”

“You can try it again after you finish that.” Went tips his cup in the direction of Richie’s. Naturally, Richie throws his head back and drinks the apple juice in one gulp, almost cutting his lip in the process. Seriously, these things are that thin.

“Done.” He announces as he fills the cup with champagne. “Now we can have a real toast.”

Both adults laugh and soon the countdown begins. Richie screams the numbers along with his parents, keeping his thumb over the ‘send’ button at the same time.

“Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!”

He presses down, the text is sent, and he pockets his phone once again to click his fragile cup against his parents’. As expected, it tastes just as awful as he remembers. He spits it out much like last year, and they all go outside to see the fireworks.

  00:00 To: Spaghetti <3

And I just wanted to say that your smile reminds me that not all art is created with a pencil and a paintbrush.

  His phone vibrates at exactly 00:49, which means Richie is already in his bedroom because that’s how New Year works in his family. They stay home, celebrate till the fireworks die down, and then part ways at the end of the hallway.

He interrupts Charlie the goldfish’s dinner and checks his phone only to let the little container of fish’s food fall off his hand. Thankfully, it was closed.

 00:49 From: Spaghetti <3

Richie?

Did you steal that from your mom’s poetry collection, asshole? :P

 Charlie the goldfish fades out from his peripheral vision. Richie sits down before he collapses and bursts through the floor right onto their cold, lifeless basement.

 What the fuck?

Seriously.

What the actual fuck?

 With shaky hands, he types out a reply.

 Richie: what makes you think it’s richie?

 Spaghetti <3: Bill gave me everyone’s numbers

Spaghetti <3: I don’t have them saved yet because of my mom, though

Spaghetti <3: Why? Is this not Richie? Did Bill give me the wrong number?

 Fucking Bill. Now, Richie’s pacing the entire floor of his bedroom, knowing he’d walk right up to the celling if he could. He keeps staring at the small screen, wondering if he could save his ass by turning this shitty device off. His mom is right, technology sucks.

 Spaghetti <3: Hello??

 Shit.

 Richie: hahaha you got me Eds

Richie: c’est moi

 Then he hesitates for a second.

 Richie: sooo, are we good?

Spaghetti <3: Yeah, of course

Spaghetti <3: Why shouldn’t we be?

 Oh. Oh. So, Eddie didn’t take him seriously. He took it as one of his weird jokes.

Here’s a getaway, Richie. You can play it off as prank, Richie. You can still walk away from this without completely ruining a friendship, Richie. Please take the opportunity, Richie.

 Richie: you don’t get it

 Shut the fuck up, Richie.

 Spaghetti <3: What?

 Richie: well

Richie: actually

Richie: you see

Spaghetti <3: Richie, spit it out you’re stressing me

Richie: right

Richie: you see

Spaghetti <3: You’ve said that before

Richie: correct I see your point Eds

Spaghetti <3: Not my name

Richie: the thing is

Richie: jesus I hope you forgive me

Richie: okay so

Richie: i don’t have a crush on you

Richie: i’m pretty sure that I love you

 There’s about a million smooth ways to say that you love someone. But Richie doesn’t choose one of those. Fitting.

It takes a few minutes before Eddie says something back. In those minutes, Richie starts crying.

 Spaghetti <3: Oh

It’s as vague as it can get, but one can take the hint.

Richie: i’m sorry

Spaghetti <3: You don’t have to apologize

Spaghetti <3: How long..?

 Richie: uh, since March?

 Which is a lie.

 Spaghetti <3: That’s a long time…

 Richie wants to laugh, then scream, then he wants to be able to stop crying.

 Spaghetti <3: Can we still be friends?

 On second thought, he doesn’t want to laugh.

 Richie: only if you still want to Spaghetti <3: Of course I want to Rich

Spaghetti <3: Don’t even say that

 Well, that’s good.

Richie: well that’s good

Richie: i’m sorry Eddie

Spaghetti <3: Don’t apologize asshole

Spaghetti <3: It’s fine I swear

 And then a few more minutes.

 Spaghetti <3: Happy new year

  The phone gets thrown, landing somewhere along the end of the bed. The blurry digital clock on his bedside table says it’s already 1:13 a.m. and by its side lays Charlie the goldfish’s tank.

It’s small, but it’s not a fishbowl. Richie learnt that lesson with his first goldfish, Oli. Poor her.

He follows Charlie’s swimming around a rock. A fish’s life seems peaceful and blissful and delightful and wonderful and many other adjectives ending in ‘ful’. Except for Oli’s life, of course. At this moment Richie’s life feels pretty much like Oli’s.

He sighs through another wet sob.

“Happy fucking new year, Charlie.”

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Rating the cooking shows I have watched while doing chores

For personal reasons I have been doing a lot of chores lately and I refuse to them without something to entertain me, but because I couldn’t bring the TV with me I had my phone. I could have listened to a podcast, but knowing how no one on my home knows the “don’t talk to me while I am wearing earphones because I won’t hear shit” rule, I had to have something I didn’t need to pay extremely close attention to and could miss words of without worrying. Somehow I ended up watching a lot of competition shows, mostly cooking. My rating is completely based on the entertainment I got from them. I know fuck all about anything else. 1. Nailed It. I don’t know how to bake for shit (one time tried to do cupcakes, turned out tasting like vomit) and these people either, so there is already a strong kinship there. I feel their confusion when they don’t know a baking term or how something it’s supposed to look like to know that it’s actually good or not. Also I really like the hosts and their dinamic. Nicole is really fun. The chocolate french expert they bring on looks like a genuelly sweet guy who has a lot of patience with all these poor motherfuckers who are literally ruining the thing he has worked so hard to perfect for years, and are stumbling through the kitchen without a single clue. He actually wants them to learn and do better, and even tries to find the good on the more than less perfect products he has to eat, which is very commendable on itself. West is a fun addition as the serious straight man who never smiles but still comes out doing ridiculous shit to deliver the trophies at the end.  I like that they bring new contestant to each new episodes, all of them with their own stories, personalities and varying levels of sucking, so that makes it more interesting and it’s like watching a mini story arc on a quick and easy format. I have the people I root for and I am glad when they win or sad when they lose. Very binge watching worthy. They always make a big deal at the end when a person wins and, like, fuck yeah, they deserved it. They made the less shitty shit on this shit town and they deserve the celebration, so I enjoyed their fun even if the winner wasn’t my favourite. 2. Best Leftover Ever! This is a show about bringing cooks with some experiences to come grab some leftovers in order to turn them into new meals. As someone that hates wasting food, I really liked the concept itself but it’s also very bright, the set is really fun, the hosts are funny and sometimes they put little tips about what you can do with some meals to use them again and, overall, entertaining and educational on a way. The food many times looks so amazing you wouldn’t have ever imagine what started as before, so outgha teach you some major respect for these cooks and their creativity. They also seem to have a lot of fun when announcing the winner and it’s cheesy, but I will never get tired of “I made you some cashrola” joke at the end.  The hosts have a great dynamic and they are all funny people on their own right, but together they are unstoppable. I am sad that it doesn’t have more seasons. 3. The Final Table. A show about inviting a bunch of big shot cooks around the world to compete to be able to be counted among a bunch of other of big shots cooks around the world. The thing about it is that each episode they concentrate on a specific country so they need to make a food that is typical from that country and later use an ingredient native to it. I love that they always bring a food critic and celebrities from those countries, letting them be the judges and decide if what they are served actually represents them or not. You learn a lot about how they value different things on food according to each country and what distinguish them one from another. Really interesting stuff! Also, to learn that the biggest shot cookers all took the influences of their upbringing to make their own, unique things is legit inspiring. I am not particularly in love with the host, though. Like I am sure he is a good guy, but it kinda gets on my nerves he is “oh yeah?”, “yes?” and making other kind of interjection while people are trying to talk, like he will lose control of the conversation otherwise. Just let people talk, man. But it has great editing and it’s big and dramatic enough that I can forgive that. 4. Sugar Rush. This was actually the first cooking show I finished through all it’s seasons. It’s a time management game in which experienced bakers who are owners of their own business come to fulfill each challenge on a given time frame and the more they take to do the first challenge, that takes time away from the minutes they can use for the second and the third one, so there is already an extra element of tension to see who can finish first, who is taking the longest and how they are going to curve their shortcomings when the time is not enough for something else. The desserts look so fucking good always, even if they didn’t turn out perfect, so it’s obvious these are talented people. I might not understand shit of what are the techniques or some of the ingredients they use or how it works, but it’s fascinating seeing capable people doing their best and using their own creativity when things go wrong. The host aren’t terribly funny, but I can see them being the kind of teacher who will point out when you fucked up but ultimately just encourages you to do better. Just nice people being nice and professional and, you know, I am very fine with that. 5. Crazy Delicious I get the whole aesthetic is about how do you have these “gods of food” who will judge cooks on each round and the set is decorated like a forest where everything is edible, so it makes sense that the prize would be a golden apple that the gods themselves give to the mortal, the competitors. Aesthetically speaking, it makes sense. But that is all they win. There is no money, there is no deal, there is no contract, nothing. Just this one golden apple that I don’t even know what is made of. Like it could be literally the cheapest thing in the world or made of actual gold, I have no clue. And like, it’s not like I don’t get that some cooks literally just want to compete, test themselves and prove themselves and other what they are capable in front of other cooks they respect. I get that. But the delivering of the golden apple itself is kinda anticlimatic every time. You could have made it really fucking cool with some lighting effect, some confetti flying on the air, something. The first episode I watched I felt like I just missed the ending because I didn’t grasped that it was just over. Like the gods come out, give a speech and give the apple. There is no special music even to indicate “hey, this is a big important thing, pay attention!!” and so I didn’t paid attention. Also, I get that the gods have to use their all white uniforms for each episode because that is their godly outfit, fine. But why the host lady also only had one single dress for the entire season, I really don’t understand that. Did they want me to think that they filmed everything on one day or what. Like come on, have her on all sorts of cute sparkly dresses, why not.   Also, she’s an adorable woman but sometimes she would make these fat jokes at her own expense that looked really awkward and out of place. I get it, she is fat, she is allowed to make those jokes if that is her kind of humour, and maybe this is just my impression, but it does feel like they always fall flat because nobody is shown laughing or even enjoying her input. It could have been editing, it could be the fact I am not that used to british humour or what, but it just feels akward. I do like the concept, though, and all the challenges are fun to watch, especially when people have to reinvent a classic dish and they come out with all kinds of different interpretations that I would die to try. Reading different reviews, it might just be me not being used to british competition shows so don’t take this opinion of mine as anything but that, just some random fuck who watched some shows while doing the dishes and enjoyed them overall. I do recommend all these shows, even if just to have some background noise while doing something else.