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autisticlancemcclain · 5 months

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The ship was shaking like a kid holding a goldfish bag.

It was not, in case you were wondering, a good time.

Keith grit his teeth, planting his boots on the ground and half-walking half-climbing over to Allura, who was paler than Keith had ever seen her. The grip she had on her podium was tight enough to drain the blood completely from her knuckles. Despite his own fear, Keith’s heart softened for her.

“How is it looking?” he asked, shouting over the noise of a thousand asteroids and a million laser strikes. All while their lions sat, drained of quintessence, locked in their hangars

One goddamn thing after another. Jesus.

“It is looking bad,” Allura shouted, not taking her eyes off the space in front of her. “I can’t – Coran, I can’t hold it on my own!”

Coran looked back at her grimly. He had probably the most success keeping upright – seriously, was it posture or did he have a steel rod anchored to his back at all times – but even he was struggling against the whipping and shuddering of the massive castleship, attention focused on the controls. Trying to keep the shield up as well as possible, trying to get their own defenses running. Trying, as always, to keep the castle going, even when the odds were a million to nothing.

“You can,” he encouraged. The effect was less encouraging when a massive asteroid hit the side of the bridge point-blank, throwing him right off the controls and splat into the walls. Despite Lance and Allura’s cries of alarm, he made a startlingly dignified crawl back to the deck controls.

Hell of a man, that advisor.

He continued once he was steady, sweat beading on his brow but gaze soft and assuring. He waited for Allura to meet his eyes, then nodded, once. “Focus, girl. Hands on the spheres. Mind cool on the exhale. However we need to get out of this – you can guide us. Make your decision. Your team is behind you.”

“Yeah!” Pidge cheered, lifting her fist in emphasis from where Shiro held her steady, eyes trained on her computer screen. Blaring red lines of code Keith could not pretend to read flashing rapid speed in front of her, and she typed back at it just as fast, keeping their crackling systems at bay. “You got this!”

Allura breathed out. The tense line of her shoulders softened, just slightly, despite the ongoing chaos. She lifted her hands and rested them, gently, on the podium spheres as Coran instructed. They glowed.

“We retreat,” she decided, nodding to herself. “We’re already low on quintessence, standing to fight will drain us dangerously. We must get to safety if we are to survive with our home intact.” She bit her lip, eyes opening. “But, uh, full disclosure, I have enough strength in me to open a wormhole and that is About It. I will be out of commission the moment it closes.”

Hunk shrugged. “We’ll catch you, then.”

“Try not to wormhole us into a black hole,” Shiro suggested, smiling slightly. “We’ll manage anything else, Princess.”

She laughed slightly, thankfully, but within seconds called out for everyone to brace themselves. Keith did as she heeded, or he tried to – but the castle got hit as he tried to crawl back to his seat, sprawling him on the floor. He glanced over at Allura, panicked, but her eyes were already glowing, and the space in front of them was already starting to warp. He swallowed roughly, squeezing his eyes shut. The floor was shaking too badly for him to get his bearings. He couldn’t get his feet under him, couldn’t stand, couldn’t dream to crawl to his seat. He stilled, resigning himself – he didn’t know exactly what would happen if he wasn't strapped down and protected during a wormhole jump, but it couldn’t be good. He had to hope for the best.

“God,” sighed a voice to his left, “you’d die without me, Dropout.”

A hand clenched the back of his jacket and yanked, pulling him tumbling onto another body. Quick as lightning a seatbelt was stretched over him, clicking into place just as the space in front of the castle finally warped, bright blue, and the entire bridge lit up so bright Keith was blind with it.

When the light finally died down, Keith was half-convinced nothing had changed. The castle stopped shaking, but instead it was plummeting, hard and fast, controls dead and energy gone, towards the surface of a planet.

“Someone catch Allura!” Coran shouted, and on queue the princess’ eyes rolled up in her head and she slumped forward. Luckily, Hunk had been more prepared than the rest of them, seatbelt already off and arms extended to catch her. He carried her back to her seat, buckling her in carefully, and strapping himself in next to her. Wise move – trying to crawl back to his own seat, fighting against the G-forces, would be near impossible.

There was a click, and then a shove, and then Keith got to feel those G-forces firsthand.

“What the hell!” he demanded, barely managing to catch himself on the arm of the blue paladin’s seat. “I coulda brained myself!”

Lance shrugged, playing for innocent, but a smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth. Keith could’ve strangled him. “What? Thought I’d let you get back to your own chair. You're welcome for saving you, by the way.”

“Some saving, jerk! We're still falling!”

“Yeah. Personally, I would find somewhere to buckle up.”

“You’re so annoying,” Keith growled, and it was by spite alone that he managed to stomp back to his own seat and buckle himself in. He was bright red, anger making him hot – Lance always made him like this, so furious he could barely blink. One day they’d be making progress, working together like a dream, wiping the floor together, and the next it was like a switch was flipped. Like Lance was reminding himself that he and Keith could never get along. It was ridiculous, and Keith couldn’t for the life of him understand it. Was he so bad?

“Incoming!” Pidge shouted, shaking Keith back to himself. Her screen was now linked up with Coran’s, the only two things on in the entire castle – electronics seemed to come alive when Pidge touched them – and diagrams of the castle systems were blaring red, flashing with symbols Keith didn’t know, but recognised as bad. “The nav and power systems are down! It’s not safe to get anyone back there to force them back on manually, but I think I can get steering up in a sec. Shiro, I need your arm for power. Hunk, keep on Allura, make sure she’s upright when we crash, we don’t want a spinal injury. Lance, Keith, I’m turning steering over to you guys. Don’t fuck it up.”

Despite their bickering, both of them nodded. Neither of them particularly wanted to be turned into paladin pancake anytime soon, so they could collaborate for one thing.

Seconds after Pidge spoke, a screen flickered to life in front of Keith. Stats blinked back up, glitching rapidly as they translated themselves into words and symbols Keith could understand. The hologram shifted and expanded to its usual 3D model, joystick in the middle, thrusters and controls to his left, a screen with Lance’s comm line to his right. In his little screen, Lance met his eyes, eyebrows raised in question. Keith nodded. Together, they wrapped their hands around the joysticks, breathed out, and let their minds fuse.

As always, it was a freaky feeling. Imagine the weird, shuddery feeling you get when you say the same thing as someone at the same time, voices layering, tone mixing, for a moment your own voice and the voice of a stranger synching into one. The weird, deja-vu-but-not of it, the uncanny valley feel of recognising your own voice but…different.

Then multiply that freakiness by a hundred, and you still won’t quite get it.

On some levels Keith was aware that he was his own person. He knew his name, knew his hands, knew his history – or well, some of it. Nothing about himself had changed.

But at the same time, he was also Lance Esposita-McClain. He knew his name, knew his hands, knew his history, more of it than he could ever get from shared stories or mind melds. There’s no telling the way your sister’s arm feels hooked around your neck for the sixth noogie in as many minutes. There’s no explaining the way your breathing only gets calm with your feet in the saltwater. There’s no describing the curve of your mother’s smile. Nothing Keith was seeking out – no memories he would even know to look for – but they were there, simmering, triggered by a smell or the crook of his finger in a particular way. Memories stored in the body and the soul and the senses, not in the brain, shared when two consciousnesses become one.

Lance’s mind was hyperspecific. It complemented Keith’s well, with all his flitting, quick detail-oriented observance. As Keith jumped from angle to angle, noticing the planet’s curve, the pull of its gravity, the heat of its atmosphere, Lance zeroed in on an island, one of the only ones big enough for them to land. While Keith kept their craft in control, steering along the air currents, Lance kept them directed, single-minded focus on a stretch of rocky beach – not exactly a soft landing, but not a lot of living things for them to destroy when they crash. (Keith would’ve chosen to land in the meadow. Crushing frogs and bugs or whatever is never something on his top priority list of things to avoid. But he didn’t argue when Lance nudged them towards what is about to be a very bumpy landing.)

“Brace yourself!” he shouted, not daring to look away to make sure his friends were buckled. Trusting that they were, he held his position, letting them plummet, coming closer and closer to splatting on the planet’s surface before finally yanking on the joystick as hard as he could. He felt Lance’s strength twist and tangle with his own, and together the two of them levelled the castle almost parallel with the ground, letting them glide on their own velocity until they slowed down enough to let the bottom of the craft brush against the rocky outcrop.

It was the most turbulent landing Keith has ever felt, except maybe that time he and Lance crashed blindfolded into a sand dune, and every bump on the ground gave him whiplash. When the castle finally hit the ground for good, dragging them a gauge in the ground for several miles as friction finally slowed it to a stop, the leftover inertia yanked Keith forward so roughly the buckles of his seatbelt made something crack in his ribcage. When the castle finally stopped he got slammed back into his chair so hard he was almost surprised he didn’t fall right through the impenetrable material.

It took a minute for everything to hit. His connection with Lance had been severed the second they hit the ground, too focused on being, y’know, crashed to keep holding on. After the shock of being tossed around like dice in a cup wore off, which did not take long, Keith’s body made it very clear that yeah, no, armour actually only does so much, and crash landing is one of those things that’s just bound to hurt. His skull pounded. At least one of his ribs was most definitely cracked. His wristed and knuckles ached from the strain of holding up the entire weight of the castle as he’d steered it. He was alive, obviously, but – Jesus. Being alive sucked.

“Sound off,” croaked Shiro from somewhere left of him.

“Ugh,” groaned Pidge. “Screw you, Keith, I hate it when you drive.”

“Next time I’ll be sure to let us crash,” Keith responded flatly.

“Um, you did, bozo, I asked you to land us –”

“The castle was dead! What did you expect me to –”

“Allura and I are both fine,” Hunk interrupted. Amusement lined his voice. “She’s still out, but she’s breathing fine, and I didn’t let her hit anything on impact. She should still get checked out, though.”

“Roger that,” Coran agreed. “Ease your worries, Number Two, you did well. I will have her in the MedBay as soon as our systems are up and running again.”

“Oh, whew, that’s a relief, because I didn’t want to say anything but she kinda jammed her elbow into my sternum by accident and I’m not blaming her or anything since she’s unconscious but I think my spleen may be a little dead, not a huge deal I’m sure but –”

“Everyone quiet!” barked Shiro. “That’s six accounted for! Who’s missing?”

Immediately, heart pounding, Keith whipped to his right. His stomach dropped. The Blue Lion Command Chair was empty – seatbelt torn somewhere on the shoulder, cracked helmet overturned carelessly on the seat. The crisp blue and white lines were marred by a small splash of red. Panic clawed its way up Keith’s throat, and he was out of his seat before he could register unbuckling his own straps, looking frantically around the bridge.

“He’s here somewhere,” Pidge fretted, “he couldn’t’ve just disappeared –”

Coran had a gloved hand clenched in his hair. “The windows and walls should be almost impenetrable, there is no way the crash broke them enough to let someone in –”

“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck –”

“Guys,” a soft voice interrupted, and Keith could’ve collapsed with relief. The castle has been flipped sideways during the fall, floor suddenly now 90 degrees, and standing at the side of the control board, now the very high top, was Lance. For whatever reason he had climbed it while they bickered, and now stood very still, gloved hand pressed to the glass of the windshield. Blood trickled from his temple, tracing a line down the side of his face, disappearing in the neckline of his armour. “We got company.”

Shifting gears – Keith was about to tear him a new one, when Shiro says sound off you sound off – but froze when he looked out the window, following Lance’s gaze.

Marching towards them, in numbers Keith couldn’t pretend to count, was an army.

— — —

part two

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gasolinerainbowpuddles · 6 months

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Galletita ║ ⓞⓝⓔ๏ⓞⓕⓕⓢ

part of a small fic exchange with random mutuals :)

This is for you, my dearest Beefro! Hope you enjoy!

| GALLETITA | main masterlist | PAIRING(s): chubby Javi P x fem!reader

| RATING: explicit material | 18+ | WORD COUNT: 5.2k | CONTENT: big boi Javi P is hungry and a little cranky, you like to bake and Javi likes to eat, belly kink, feeding kink, probably bad Spanish, we’re playing fast and loose with timelines, canon, and everything in general, so just forget about timey wimey boo boo wah wah and enjoy the story lmao

| SYNOPSIS: Your sister and brother-in-law have enlisted your help with their small business while they await the birth of their first baby. You help with the cafe and find yourself face to face with a new customer whose appetite might have met its match in you.

It had been a rush to open up on your own at the last minute, but your sister couldn’t exactly be blamed for going into labor in the middle of the night. You’d anticipated this eventuality, but manning the entire store on your own for the next couple of hours felt as daunting as if it’d never been considered at all. She and your brother-in-law had brought you down here almost a month ago to help out with their small cafe before the baby arrived, and you had spent most of your time helping out with anything to shoulder the more physically demanding tasks, leaving her with things like manning the register so she could rest on a stool for most of the day.

They only had two other part-time employees, and only one of them was available to come in today around noon, which left you on your own for what felt like an eternity. Thankfully the rain provided a deterrent for many customers, and you held out hope that nobody showed up until someone who actually worked here was able to come help out. You hadn’t heard any updates about your sister’s labor, but there were plenty of things to do to keep your attention until something came through.

The little bell above the shop door rang out the announcement of a customer’s arrival. You quickly smooth over your apron, pat down your wet weather frizzy hair, and walk towards the front counter.

“Good morning! What can I get for you today?” you offer up in a rushed, pleasant voice.

The smooth, deep tone that replies aligns with the gorgeous man it belongs to. Brown hair mussed every which way, a neatly trimmed mustache that frames a pair of plump lips, broad shoulders balanced out with a soft middle pouching out against a light blue button up. Thick thighs stretching the denim of his worn jeans. By the time your eyes travel back to his face, he’s looking at you expectantly with a hint of a smirk. Heat floods your face when you realize he said something you missed entirely because you were too busy ogling.

“Sorry,” you stutter out in a nervous laugh. “O-One more time?”

The handsome customer almost renders your brain into complete mush yet again when his big brown eyes soften into something patient and, hopefully, flattered instead of annoyed with your distractedness. “I asked if you had any kind of dessert type foods. Bakery down past the corner lost power. Saw your cafe sign on when I was driving back and figured I’d give it a shot,” he explains simply with an easygoing sort of confidence that made your knees feel jittery.

“Oh. Right. Yes, we have power,” you assure him. His eyebrow ticks up in amusement as you both take in the overhead lights and sound of machinery running. His lips twitch as though he’s holding back a wide smile - and probably a laugh at your expense.

“What I mean is, uh, yes. We have a few options, but we mostly focus on coffee based drinks.” You wave broadly at the barely stocked glass case. “I, um, I didn’t quite get it all filled up. Busy morning.”

“Busy, huh? Figured the rain might keep people away,” he observes as he looks over the sparse offerings in the case.

“Yeah,” you agree in a breathy sort of hum. Why on earth could you not stop staring at this man like you’d never seen a male human before? You give yourself a little grace by insisting the hectic night and busy morning have made your brain a little fried. He stays still except for his eyes, which flick over to you with that sparkly sort of warmth you feel you could get used to very quickly.

“See anything you’d like?” you ask, trying desperately to get yourself back on track.

His grin breaks free completely and makes little crinkles around his eyes. “I’m open for whatever you recommend, sweetheart,” he shoots back, smooth and heavy like molasses.

Your face goes from slight confusion to embarrassment when you realize your choice of wording probably sounded incredibly forward, and it goes into full-fledged mortification when you realize his reply was even more so. He only smiles back warmer, and you feel frozen to your spot, only released when he breaks eye contact to look at the case again.

He chuckles low to himself, but you only catch something that sounds like “linda.”

“My name’s not Linda,” you correct in some sort of autopilot reply. When he bites his bottom lip down in a quiet laugh, you very nearly excuse yourself to the back.

“My apologies, sweetheart. Rude of me to not make proper introductions. I’m Javier. Javi, if you like.”

Your hand floats up of its own accord to meet his, and you think you give him your name in return. You’re not really sure anymore. Maybe you were more exhausted than you thought. You manage to get through enough conversation to direct him to the cookies you’d made yesterday as well as a few pieces of banana bread. He picked a random assortment, and you began to box it up when he held a hand up.

“Just gonna sit here for a bit and try a few if that’s alright,” he smiles. “Not in too much of a rush to get back out into all that mess.”

You say of course and stay as long as you like and try to make yourself busy with things around the shop so you don’t embarrass yourself anymore than you already have. You watch as inconspicuously as you can from the corner of your eye as Javier downs two cookies, half a slice of banana bread, and a few sips of his black coffee like it was nothing. Your chest felt light and jumpy watching him dive into your baked goods. You were far from a professional, having just heavily dabbled in cooking and baking as hobbies when you had the time or the money, but you’d taken to prepping baked goods for the food case since you arrived to help out.

Javier seemed to appreciate your efforts in full as he munched quickly on each bite. You could see the soft bugle of his tummy over his belt while he sat eating. You wanted to reach out and touch it so badly, to see if it was as soft as it looked or as sensitive as you imagined it would be. It was noticeably rounder the longer he sat and ate.

The already snug pull of his shirt buttons was more pronounced each time he bent forward slightly to sip on his coffee. His waistband sat lower than he was probably used to because he kept fidgeting with it. You wish he’d just undo his belt if it was pressing into his stomach and making him uncomfortable. Frankly, you wouldn’t mind if he undid it all and let his body bow out and breathe easy while he ate and got more of a curved, satisfied middle.

You jump at the sound of your phone going off in your back pocket, and you hastily answer when you see your brother-in-law’s picture fill up the screen. “Hello? Is everything alright? How’s she doing? Is the baby here yet?” You do a little jumpy dance when your brother-in-law shares the news of the latest member of the family making their debut. Baby and mom were both happy and healthy. You shoot Javier an apologetic look when you notice him watching you curiously. He grins and waves you off as he tucks into whatever sweet treat was lined up next.

You pace around the cafe and try to retain all the information being relayed, but between the rain and the busy hospital it was a bit difficult to hear. You were so focused on listening to your call that you hadn’t heard another customer enter the shop. In fact, you didn’t even realize anyone else had come in until a firm, annoyed tap landed on your shoulder. You jerk away in surprise and motion to the phone. “I’m so sorry, my sister just had a baby. I’m getting the update about it. I’ll be with you in just a second,” you promise in a whisper to the impatient customer. He’s tall and thin with a clean-cut suit and haircut to match. Your entreating smile has no effect whatsoever as his face remains cold and annoyed.

“Half the block is out of power, and the only coffee place I can find in this fucking storm won’t even serve people? Fucking typical,” he bites out, gripping his hips with large, tense hands. “Hurry it up, will you?”

You’re so caught off guard by the rude interaction that you’re stunned into silence. Just as you get your thoughts together enough to tell this guy to fuck off, he rounds on you again. “My boss is going to wring my neck if I don’t bring him some fucking coffee, and some of us have real jobs that we care about. Can you get off your stupid personal call and sell me a cup of coffee?”

When you don’t answer quickly enough for his liking, he plucks your phone out of your hand and hits the button to end the call. He snaps it back into your hand and holds his arms open to his sides. “Was that so fucking hard? You got enough brain cells to rub together to ring up a few cups of coffee, sweetheart?” he sneers.

The scrape of a chair across the cafe is all the warning this harassing asshole got before Javier roughly shoves him into a table, knocking said asshole as well as a couple of chairs onto the ground.

“Get the fuck outta this shop. If you step foot in here again, I will personally see to it that you are arrested for trespassing, harassment, stalking, assault, and whatever else I can think to put on the charges. You understand me?” Javier’s back and shoulders are puffed out and ebbing with heaving pulls of angry air.

The rude customer scrambles onto his knees and feet, reddening quickly from embarrassment. “You can’t just put your hands on people, man!” he squalls. Despite the challenging demeanor, the man slowly takes several steps backwards and away from you, edging closer to the entrance. “Maybe I should have you fucking arrested for putting hands on me, huh? How about that? You think your girlfriend is gonna be impressed when you’re sitting in county? All because you wanted to impress her? You fucked with the wrong guy—”

Javier takes a measured step forward and swings an uppercut into the man’s gut. He doubles over with a groan and grabs at the entrance to hold himself up. He sputters and coughs, bug-eyed with alarm, before scurrying out of the shop.

“Jesus,” you mutter under your breath. It had been a while since you’d been in a retail environment, and you’d forgotten how awful the general public could be, especially towards service workers.

Javier turns to you once he’s sure the man has left for good and gives you a quick inspection, satisfied with your unscathed state, but still asks if you’re okay. You give a quick nod and thanks.

“You know that guy? He ever been here before and given you trouble?” he presses.

His voice is so stern and pointed, you answer immediately that as far you knew it was the first time the asshole had ever graced the walls of the shop. He dips his head a few times in acknowledgement. “How long are you here alone?” he probes. You don’t stop to consider how he’s so confident that you’re in the shop alone. Instead, you reply quickly to his commanding voice and words. He glances at his watch and makes a sort of grimace. “That’s still some time between now and then,” he muses aloud. He puckers his lips in thought and relaxes a hand onto his hip, leaning casually to one side and somehow still maintaining that confident control of the room.

“If it’s alright with you and wouldn’t make you uncomfortable, I’d like to hang around until it’s more than just you holdin’ down the fort.” His eyes are softer now, like they’d been earlier before the belligerent customer had come and disrupted everything, but you can see the imploring weight behind them. Please just say you don’t mind that I stay for a while so you’re not left here alone.

“No, of course not. Of course I don’t mind,” you half laugh at the idea of not wanting him around. “Just don’t feel obligated or anything. I think you got the message across to that jerk loud and clear.”

You grin a little, and Javier mirrors the expression with a lopsided one of his own. “Well, alright then.

I’ll keep outta your way until cavalry arrives.”

True to his word, Javier settled back into his seat after righting the chair and table he’d knocked over during the scuffle, and you might forget anyone else was here with you in the shop if it had been someone who wasn’t so devastatingly handsome, broad, and protective. You kept stealing quick glances his way and offering up more treats “on the house” for his help if you noticed his plate was empty. After the fourth round of treats, he sighed and rubbed his ever protruding belly. “I’m fit to pop, sweetheart,” he groans.

“Oh, come on. One more cookie,” you appeal. You shoot him a bright, encouraging smile as you extend the plate of cookies to him. He breathes out a laugh and shakes his head but still accepts one last cookie.

“Damn things taste so good. Everything tastes so good. I’m really in for it now that I know about this place,” he laughs.

You chuckle and shrug as you absentmindedly sink down into the chair opposite him. “Well if you have anything in particular you like, I can try to find a recipe and make it. The regulars would probably like something new in the rotation,” you reason.

“Chase off one asshole and you get preferential treatment, huh? Not a bad deal,” he teases.

You giggle and clench your hands where they lay resting in your lap. It’s part giddy nerves at the way his crinkly smile and flirtatious demeanor make your belly feel warm and tingly. It’s also partly getting flustered once you realize that you’d invited yourself to sit down at his table and started pressing him for menu ideas. He seemed like a nice guy, and that’s probably all this was: just a nice guy doing a nice thing. He hadn’t signed up for all of this when he stumbled upon your sister’s little cafe.

“You really make all the food yourself?” he asks. He looks thoughtful and maybe even a little impressed.

You wave off his unspoken compliments and explain that you’ve taken up the task from your brother-in-law since you came to stay and help out. You admit that it wasn’t very hard to convince him as it wasn’t usually in his wheelhouse to prep any of the food. That had always been your sister, who shared an affinity for baking and cooking with you.

“So, got any ideas for me?” you ask in a hope to get the conversation away from yourself.

The line of his mouth curves until a soft, shallow dimple forms on his cheek. “You’re really gonna make somethin’ just for me?” His voice dripped in a deeper, honeyed drawl that made warmth spark and erupt between your thighs.

“Yeah,” you breathe.

He laughs to himself and rubs a thumb along his lower lip, which isn’t helping with how badly you want to throw yourself across the table and nip at it. After a moment in thought, he nods his head once and says, “Biscochitos.”

You blink a few times, completely dumbfounded at what word just left his mouth. “Biscuit Cheetos?” you repeat in confused whisper.

Javier snorts and covers part of his laugh with a cough. “I’m sure you could make a hell of a ‘Biscuit Cheeto’, but I’m talking about the cookie I grew up eating a lot of. Biscochitos.” He pronounced it slower this time, and you parrot it back correctly. He gives an appreciative hum at your efforts. “Sound real pretty sayin’ that.”

Your face heats again at the center of attention circling back to you. You wave him off again and look away. “I’ll agree it’s a lot better than ‘Biscuit Cheetos’,” you snort. You sit in a charged silence, fidgeting and squirming under Javier’s steady, calm gaze. He leans against the wall and crosses his arms lazily. His air of confidence was warm and firm in a way that made you feel at ease and electrified all at once. He studies you for a moment and grins again.

You feel like you’re trapped in his charming web, but you’re not exactly a fly struggling to escape. You might not mind being up next on the menu. He certainly looks like he enjoys a good meal. You excuse yourself to get back to work and pack up some cookies to go once he leaves. All too soon the other employee shows, and your quiet time together is over. Just as you resign yourself to some internal pouting that this handsome stranger turned knight in shining armor was probably never to be seen again, he slips you a piece of paper with his number scribbled on it. With a wink and a “gimme a call once those biscochitos are out in the case, mi galletita” he strolls out the door.

You immediately take your 15 minute break and start scouring the web for recipes.

Javier didn’t know which was harder to give up: smoking, booze, or women. All of his past indulgences felt a little heavy handed now that he was mainly doing consultation work for police and government agencies. He’d settled back in Texas to be closer to his family, closer to the home he’d gone away from with dreams of making the world a better, safer place. While he doesn’t much feel that he’s made a difference, he still tries to politely skirt the heaps of praise and compliments most shower him with instead of shutting them down with the truth of just how fucked up each and every facet of the law was in its own way.

Still, he had bills to pay. He had a spitfire mind and drive that needed quelling. The first thing he’d given up was smoking. It hadn’t been the uphill battle he’d heard about from so many others. Then again, he really only craved a smoke after he’d been in the company of a beautiful woman. That had sorted itself out as he was no longer hitting the pavement day in and day out, and the pick of female coworkers was an HR nightmare on top of slim pickings.

He wasn’t meeting up with informants and tipsters down at random bars or restaurants or wherever else, and all his fountain of vices seemed to naturally dry up - at least in terms of what triggered his attention to them in the first place.

However, Javier had found himself a new hobby that he didn’t have to worry about hiding, scheduling, or monitoring. Food. He could eat at his desk, little snacks tucked into his drawers. His car was good for a quick bite any time he got into it. The guys around the office went out for lunch more often than not, and there were plenty of places to eat around here. It’s how he’d found his favorite bakery. That is, until the storm had knocked their power out and led him straight into your sister’s quaint little cafe. You’d struck him in a way he hadn’t seen coming. He hadn’t found himself too concerned with women or fucking something warm and wet for a while now. Much too enamored with his latest adventures in becoming a “foodie” or whatever it was that the secretary had called it.

He hadn’t gone back to that former favorite bakery since he’d happened upon you. A comfortable, familiar smile crept onto his face when you’d called him a few days later after that fateful firth meeting. You sounded flustered and excited to let him know “his cookies” were ready.

It’s no wonder his mouth had formed the nickname for you as he left the shop that first day. Mi galletita, my little cookie. God, you were such a sweet thing. When he went to see you first thing after work, you beamed at him and looked all the brighter when he legitimately moaned into his first bite of the biscochitos you’d made. He was almost embarrassed about it until he saw how much you took it as a compliment. He liked making you feel good about yourself. After visiting you week after week - sometimes more than once a week - he’d begun to hope that he might be able to make you feel good in other ways, too.

Your sister and brother-in-law were back into the mix now, and he was starting to worry how much longer he’d be able to just walk in and see you. You’d lit something inside him that had him coming back to see you again and again, like a magnet inching too close to another and having no choice but to be propelled together. He didn’t care too much for how you were closing a lot at night by yourself, no matter how many times you assured him it was safe.

Just like that first day you’d met, he felt a need to look after you and make sure you were taken care of. After all, you’d been doing the same thing in your own way. He’d put on more weight since you started plying him with all sorts of confectionary treats. His pants dug into his waist by lunchtime every day, but he couldn’t keep from gorging himself on all the delicious things you made with him in mind. He’d been fit and active once upon a time, but between the desk job and your baking, the seams of his clothing were hanging on by a weak thread in some places.

But, just like your delectable offerings, Javier just couldn’t get enough of you.

The shop had been closed for almost 45 minutes now, and you hated to think of all the ways you were holding Javi up while he waited for you to finish shutting everything down and prepping for the morning shift. He’d taken to sitting with you on nights that you closed, quietly reading something to himself as he patiently waited for you to complete the tasks around the shop. It had been a hectic day that put you behind, but the sight of Javi eating cookie after cookie and rubbing his expanding belly appreciatively made it all worth it.

When you tell him you just have a little bit of paperwork left in the back, he’s slouched down into the chair to ease the bend of his waist into his tight pants. He doesn’t turn you down when you offer for him to keep you company in the back. He sighs as he settles into the couch in the back office. You eye the pouching bits of his stomach that have spilled over his jeans and lick your lips. You love that something you’d made for him - something you’d put so much time and care into - had resulted in a satisfied tummy.

The couch huffs and puffs as much as Javi does as he tries to find a comfortable position. You turn to look at him, and his expression morphs into a somewhat embarrassed face.

“Ate too many cookies, and now my fat ass can’t even sit comfortably,” he grumbles.

You fight internally over whether or not to suggest the obvious: undo your belt and pants. Instead, you opt for the softer lob of a suggestion. “Here, lie down and stretch out a bit. That should help.” You get his head propped comfortably and slide his jacket away from him. He looks more at ease, but you know what would make him feel really good. Your hands travel down his chest slowly. “And, um, I think that…. this could help, too.”

Before you can talk yourself out of it, your fingers are gently unfastening his belt and jeans, and his stomach bulges out when it’s finally free from the confines of his constricting clothing. He breathes out a heavy sigh of relief, and his entire body slackens a bit. “See? Told you it would help,” you say quietly. You trail your fingertips through the thatch of brown hairs at the top of his underwear. His eyes snap open and find yours, pinning you with a searching, fiery look.

You gently curve the palm of your hand over the taut swell of his stomach, and he groans when you rub soothing motions across it. “Poor belly is so full, Javi. Feels so tight. Does it feel good when I rub it like this?”

He whimpers and nods when you apply firmer pressure, and you continue rubbing for a few minutes. “Makes me so happy to see you eat all the cookies I make you. I bake them just for you, Javi.”

His tongue slips over his lower lip when he groans again. “Know you do. Too fucking good to me.”

“I just wanna make you feel good, Javi,” you breathe. Your hand starts to travel lower. “Can I do that? Make you feel good?”

He watches you with fixed adoration and nods. You drag his pants down to mid thigh and gasp at the sight of him. Belly rounded and protruding from stuffing himself with your cookies. Thighs thick and strong. Cock half hard and dribbling from the tip. Your head is between his legs before your nerves have a chance to distract you. The sound you draw from Javi with a few kitten licks across the underside of his cock makes your head spin. You vacuum your lips around the tip and rub his stuffed belly as you start sucking.

He lets out a pained moan and guides your head faster, bobbing up and down on as much of him as you can take. He pulls you off with a loud grunt. “Hermosa, my stomach,” he hisses. You pushed too hard against his sensitive belly while you worked him with your mouth.

“Sorry, Javi,” you apologize in a soft hush. You lean forward and press soft kisses to his belly in a show of contrition.

His chest vibrates with a low, approving hum. ‘That’s okay, galletita. Let me have a turn, yeah?”

Despite his bloated middle, Javi moves with relative ease now that it’s not cinched beneath a waistband. He stands and bends you over the desk. He’s freed you from your lower garments in what feels like seconds. You know he’s on his knees between your legs, but your hips still jerk in surprise into the cool edge of the desk when you feel his damp breath fanning over your bare pussy. “Still hungry for you, galletita.” A gripping hitch of breath lodges in your throat when he starts licking into you.

Javi’s appetite for your confections paled in comparison to the famished frenzy happening between your thighs. Strings of warm wet something slide down your legs as your climax quickly approaches. His large hands spread you open for his devouring, and the next sharp suck on your clit has you shaking against the desk. Your lax body is pulled backward, head turned to the side to meet Javi’s mouth. He eats into you again, tongue and spit and the taste of yourself spreading.

You reach blindly behind you and around Javi’s belly to guide his cock into you. He lowers you onto the desk once more to adjust himself deeper into you. You moan when he props his belly onto the curve of your ass. It frees up the space he needs to drive himself to the hilt, and you sputter and squeak at the size of him.

“Yeah, you like my big belly, huh? Got somethin’ else that’s big I think you’ll like,” he chuckles.

Your mouth juts open in a silent yell when he grips onto your hips and fucks into you. Your hands fly backwards to clench onto his as he cleaves you in two.

“Breathe, hermosa, breathe,” he reminds you. You instantly gasp and heave out the breath you’d been holding. “You like all of your man to be nice and fat, huh? Big fat belly and a big fat cock, too, huh?”

Every stroke wiggles his belly on top of your ass, and there’s no sense in denying how much you love it. “YES, JAVI,” you cry out. “WANT YOU SO BIG. YOU FEEL SO BIG FOR ME.”

He pants with the effort of his thrusts. “Can feel you tightening up again. You gonna come again for me? You gonna come on this fat cock? Gonna come on this fat cock while your ass is trying to hold up this fat belly?”

Your eyes slide into the back of your skull as your whole body seizes up. Javi drives himself sloppily into the pitches of your cunt, gripping and choking him with your orgasm. His frenzied question of where? lets you know he’s close. So close that he doesn’t hesitate at all when you tell him to come inside you. He groans like he’s in pain at the desperate plea for him to fill you up.

“Aahhhh–fuck— my little—aahhh fuck!–galletita wants to be a mommy just like her sister, huh? Want me to come in you and put a baby in there, hm?”

You’re too strung out on your high to coherently answer, and it’s extended by the guttural moan of Javi as he starts to spill inside of you. So often a smooth talker, the transition of Javi’s dirty talk to this vocal, unhinged symphony is a pleasant surprise. You soak in every hiss and groan and whimper. He doesn’t quiet until he’s caught his breath, although the slump of him against your back leaves very little room for him to take a deep breath.

You stumble when he pulls out of you and turns you around with your ass half hanging off the desk. He scoops his fingers through your spent pussy and gathers up the remnants of him leaking out. He brings it to your face, and you obey when he tells you to open up. He slips his cum covered fingers into your mouth and groans. He retrieves another scoop of himself from you and smears it across your waiting tongue.

“You feed me so good, galletita, I gotta make sure I feed you, too,” he grunts.

You swallow all of it down until you’re left with nothing but his bare fingers to tongue and lick and suck on. He lets his wet hand wander down to your stomach where he pauses. “Maybe I like the idea of you having a big round belly because of me, too,” he jokes. Warmth floods your face at the thought of it: Javi with a big round belly stuffed full of your cooking, and you by his side, the swell of your middle filled with the two of you.

I tried my best for you, @beefrobeefcal 💜

Here's the "pic" of Javi in the cafe (aka the edit I made for this fic lmao):

Merry Christmas, ♥Puddles♥

#javier peña #javier pena x reader #chubby boi #chubby!javier pena

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letsquestjess · 4 months

Note

Hello! I'm not too sure if this is the right place to make requests. Anyways I've had this little idea for a while. So basically, the reader occasionally talks quietly to herself, and one day, Tech ( or all the boys in like an imagine) overhears this happening. This happens for awhile then one day they mentioned it or laugh at the comment (depends who you do) and were in shock since we say the weirdest things to ourselves. Thanks for checking my idea out. No pressure to actually do this!

Hello there! Thank you for the request! 💜

I went with just Tech for this one. He has such a natural curiosity I think he wouldn't be able to help but listen to Reader's musings 😊

A New Kind of Understanding (Tech x GN!Reader)

Summary: When Tech notices you mumbling to yourself, he starts to listen to see if he can find the cause.

Word count: 1.1K

Warnings: None.

-- -- -- -- --

“Okay, so that’s for this week…” You clicked your tongue and contemplated the assortment of ration packs spread out before you, counting them again. “And then that leaves these for the week after, and we should have some to spare before our next supply run. I hope it’s not the same supplier as last time.”

As your muttered ramblings persisted, Tech’s datapad slowly dipped, his focus diverted. From his vantage point in the hazard seat, he observed you with keen interest as you lifted a stack of rations into a case. Your mumbling transformed into a vivid recollection of the chaotic sandstorm that had nearly engulfed the team, and he found himself captivated by your train of thought. Whirling grains and howling winds had hounded your steps until you had all bundled yourselves into the ship to wait out the angered elements.

The storm outside had since subsided, but the flurry in your mind showed no signs of calming down, incoherent mumblings evolving into nonsensical rambles and a stream of random thoughts escaping your lips. Tech almost asked if you were okay before you quickly refocused on the task at hand, labelling the food inventory and rifling through the rations for the following week.

Your words became more organised, more precise, and you methodically checked off each item on the stockpile until the list lay bare.

“We should have more than enough until the next supply pickup,” you assured him, pushing on your legs to lift yourself up from the low cupboard. “Might also have some for emergencies.”

“That is a relief,” Tech replied. “Are the crates from the back separated too?”

With a small smile, you nodded and hummed. “Organised them first. Everything has been checked, double checked, and stamped. Even left a little extra for Wrecker.”

“I am certain he will appreciate the gesture.” Tech’s eyes trailed after you as you descended the ramp. At the greetings that sounded outside in response to your cheerful disposition, he peeked out and scratched an itch from beneath his goggles. How often did you mumble to yourself? Had he been so absorbed in his own work that he had missed a squad mate in need?

Continuing with the rest of his duties for the day, he made a mental note to keep an eye on you, paying attention to any subtle changes in your behaviour that could indicate potential stress.

Tech didn’t have to wait long. As you prepared your bunk and settled down for the night, he heard your statements, faint and whispered while you set your armour by your bed.

Entranced, he pretended to busy himself with his datapad and absorbed your voice. Although most of what you said made little sense to him, he could tell from the patterns that they held meaning to you. Mentions of something you had seen, things you needed to remember for the next day, someone from your past who had irked you. Or so he gathered.

Tech clung to every word and felt the movement of thought resonate in his mind. Despite his scientific inclination to document his findings, he respected your privacy too much to intrude in that way. While he was open to observing a willing participant, he would never conduct experiments without your complete understanding and consent.

Instead, he lay back in his bunk and strained his ears for any sounds that might reveal the source of your mumblings, particularly if they revealed any stress or a heavy mental burden. He approached everything with logic and purpose, but he acknowledged that certain emotions and pressures defied explanation, and made it a point to be there for you if you ever needed someone to talk to.

* * *

A jangle of machine parts and tools announced your arrival into the cockpit, and you carefully placed the crate onto the co-pilot seat. As you sorted through, you began to mumble, starting with comments about the items in the box and branching out into other musings.

Standing on the captain’s chair to remove the broken lights overhead, Tech unscrewed the last panel and propped it by the console. Your ramblings continued. He missed a lot due to the rapid pace of your speech, but he caught a few statements to ponder on later.

An old documentary played through the radio, and the correspondent grated on your nerves. His condescending tone provoked you one time too many, and unable to withhold a remark anymore, you sarcastically scoffed, “about as sharp as a cable that one.” You laughed at your own quip and a quick snort from behind you responded. Your voice silenced, and Tech froze.

“Didn’t realise you were listening to me,” you said, a shaky chuckle escaping into the quiet between you.

“I apologise,” Tech replied. With a firm step, his feet found solid ground again in front of the rotating seat. “I… I have heard you mumbling to yourself quite a bit recently. Should you need to discuss any concerns, I am more than willing to lend a listening ear and provide assistance. I’m sure my brothers would also listen should you prefer to talk to one of them.”

Your lips parted as though to speak, but no sound accompanied the motion. Although initially embarrassed by Tech eavesdropping on your ramblings, the realisation that he did it out of concern for your well-being eased your momentary sheepishness and left a warm sentiment in your heart.

“That’s kind of you,” you said. “But I’m more than okay, I promise.” Despite knowing exactly what you wanted to say, you found yourself dithering for words. Coughing to clear your throat, you pressed on. “I was going through some things a few years ago, and one of my friends told me that muttering to yourself is a good way of settling your mind. It allows you to see clearer, to get rid of the mental clutter you don’t need, stuff like that.” Your fingers fidgeted and your ribs ached as anxiety climbed. “I mumble to sort through my thoughts. I know it sounds stupid, but it works. At least for me.”

“I do not think your methods are stupid,” Tech assured you. As he neared your position, he extended his hands to grasp yours, stilling the nervous movement of your fingers. “It is a rather rational approach. I find your mumblings interesting as I get to listen to your natural stream of thought and observe how you transition from one idea to the next. As a result, I feel a deeper understanding of you.”

With a fluttered breath, your chest finally settled, comforted by the intelligence clone’s sweet yet logical manner. “Thank you,” you said, turning your palms over so that you could hold on to his hands and give them a grateful squeeze.

“There is no need to thank me. You are a part of this team and it is imperative we look after each other.” The corner of Tech’s lips curled into a smile, and you reciprocated the gentle gesture. “Although, the offer remains unchanged. If you ever require help, you know where to find me.”

#fic asks #fic request #tbb #the bad batch #tbb fanfic #tbb fanfiction #the bad batch fanfiction #tbb tech #tbb tech x reader #tbb tech x you

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teresalace · 1 year

Text

"I won't cry for you" - Yandere Tyler Gaplin x Female Reader (this is my first dark fic🥺) PART 1

PART 2

source: Netflix show- Wednesday

Words: 3340

Warning: Mentions of blood, psychological.

• my note: I haven't watched the show 👀 so this is just me writing whatever I felt could be possibly true from the few articules I've read. Hope everyone can enjoy this last braincell of mine writing this 😤 my holiday is still going on! SHOUT OUT TO MY WRITER SISTER- HMUE LAY. Please guys be patient for part 2 💖☺️ much appreciated for the tips too!!

Summary: Life used to be perfectly normal until you got word of your mother, Laurel Gates (Professor Thornhill), being detained somewhere private after the big event at Nevermore Academy. Now, all alone, it was up to you to take care of things at home and act every bit of what a distraught kid would look like. But you couldn't sit back and do nothing, especially with knowing your mother's 'pet' wasn't going to be taken good care of in prison. You were going to do something and tie some loose strings, like mother like daughter.

____

"Last one." The silvery shine of a pair of tweazers as it releases a small insect into the spiky open mouth of a Venus flytrap, was more self-soothing than you thought as you placed the tool down. "I'll be back after a few days, I promise. So make sure to miss me," you whispered to them, lightly brushing your fingertips over the skin of the plants like your mother would.

Among the cluster of exotic plants your mother had grown at home, You lovingly watched your favourite, the last Venus flytrap snap Its leafy mouth shut before you left the house with strapped on bags. Feeding times were fun and all but you were running out of time, it's the house gardener's turn to look after the plants now.

Speedily, you rushed off towards the forest once outside and zipped your jacket up fully while shivering in the freezing cold wind of the night. You lowered your head and kept walking fast.

Hopefully no one saw or recognized you in the streets though you doubt anyone would, it's a small pilgrim world in this town and staying vigilant is key to not look suspicious.

Looking back in the direction of your home, you gave a final whisper to your dearest pet plants. "Sorry guys, mama isn't going to be coming back anytime soon. But rest assured, I will." If you didn't get killed. . . . Maybe hours had passed by with every crunch of dead leaves beneath your shoes, but you weren't sure and you didn't want to waste your cellphone battery by checking the time. You knew where to go and you had to hurry, who knows if the Hyde would be relocated by the time you arrive there.

The beaming of the full moon illuminated through the woods and guided you towards a familiar hiding place, a discernable cave where mother's emergency car hid in. And you held the very keys to it, in hand.

Maybe you've underestimated the amount of times it would take to power up the engine of an old semi-used car, but still you persisted in driving the mungy brown thing out of town and you did, as soundlessly as possible in the dead of night.

And as much as you could manage to nagivate your way through the woods with having the car headlights lead the way, it was more than difficult to track down the path of where the prison van went. Especially knowing it's been almost half a day since that van took off to god-knows-where.

Throwing sidelong glances here and there out in the moonlit dark, you finally slowed the car down after passing by enough thick trees and unfamiliar shrubs to know you were most likely near the intersection.

What actually made you stop the car were the bright strips of orange fabric scattered across the asphalt road in the direction of the woods, not too noticable at first glance but you were pleased to find a clue so early on to where mother's pet had gone.

Like breadcrumbs leading you on the right path, you left your car, pocketing a flashlight in case of emergency, and followed the pieces of fabric as they grew smaller in size and sparse into the forest.

Nevermind the fear of getting lost as your heart shook inside of you the farther you walked from the car, the chill of the biting wind barely calmed your body heating up the moment you spotted splotches of something like blood on the forest ground. You were close, you felt it.

Then you heard it, among the sounds of the night-critters and chripping grasshoppers, a heavy rugged breathing was unmistakably ahead. With a shivering pulse, you slowly stepped towards the area, turning behind a tall tree and saw a shirtless person laid there against the bark.

Eyes shut, disheveled curly hair, long scratches across his face that seemed to be covered in dark liquid, while his chest heaved for air. In the pale moonlight where anything and anyone could disappear, was Tyler Gaplin.

You found him.

It would've been nicer if you had brought a miniature pillow to wake the guy up with but your boots will do the trick for now. So you gave a light kick against his leg, once, twice until giving up at the lack of response.

You crouched near him to whisper, careful to avoid touching the ground and protecting your zippered jacket. "If you're awake you should get up, I'm not going to carry you all the way to the car." No answer.

"I should've expected this. . ." You mumbled.

It would've been better for you to discover him dead but he got lucky. Really lucky. Looks like you'll have to do this the hard way. You pulled back the sleeves of your jacket and grabbed the ankles of the guy, slowly and gently, lugging him across the ground, all the while avoiding branches and rocks where his head could hit. . . .

His heavy body easily slumped like a spinless leaf in the backseat of your car when you didn't bother to try readjusting his position, but you were already out of breath from dragging him the whole time.

Plus the blackseat was now dirtied by him but you weren't going to charge him, even though you should, considering how much easy he made it for you to find him. (Though he could've made things easier if he just disappeared but. . . You'll take what you can get)

Sure he'll deal with a sore neck or back but it wasn't your problem to deal with, you aren't a charity case after all. Only cleaning up the mess your mother made.

You momentarily stretched your back before getting in the driver's seat to drive, glancing often in the rear view mirror at the unconscious body showing no signs of awakening.

Good, you just needed some time before reaching the next town; Waterbury.

Little did you know then that from behind you, a pair of dark green eyes were awake and watching your every move.

. . .

Luckily for you, the dimly lit streets of Waterbury were barren and your job was made much easier to drive your car into the driveway of mother's second house.

It was convenient timing, you admit, that she had thought ahead and prepared a 'hideaway' place a year prior before the start of the new school year at Nevermore Academy. . . For what purpose? It wasn't in your interest to find out, mother does what she wants and so do you.

Now onto the second easiest task; to carry the unconcious bloody guy inside the house before anyone could see you two in the cover of darkness. Your arms ached in memory of the intense labour earlier, surely there must be another way of getting things done.

You stepped closer to the car window, wrapping your arms around your sides, peering inside with sharp eyes.

After examining his unmoving face and soft breathing pattern from outside, you guessed he must be fairly awake by now. You leaned your hip against the cold backseat cardoor, the bags strapped onto you weighing a ton on your bones as you lowered your voice to a no-nonsense level where he should be able to hear.

"Are you just going to keep sleeping? If you could, it'd be nice to give some answers to someone who's helping you and maybe walk yourself into your new home." Trying to sound friendly while still being on edge was the hardest task of the day when in reality you wanted to kick him awake but you gave him a couple more seconds to take in what you said.

The initial silence made you gave up and just as you were about to leave him in the car, a muffled groan came from the guy.

". . . What?" A weak, hoarse answer followed behind a slow opening of eyelids. The guy groggily blinked at you like someone who went through the most exhausting series of events.

Which was great. You didn't expect much to begin with so this response was a good enough start.

"Listen to me very carefully, I am trying to help you," technically you are, "my house is right Infront of us and we need to get you inside, immediately," while it's still dark out. You then pointed to your eyes, staring straight into his, now wide awake, "please blink twice if you understand, sir."

He took in a coarse breath and blinked hard at you, slowly moving his body from lying on the backseat.

"I–I understand," the guy said softly, now sitting as upright as he possibly could while keeping his head down. For a split second you hesitated as your fingers curled over the backseat door handle, his meek behaviour surprised you and at worst, gave you the chills. But you dismissed it, not wanting to overthink anything for this week's clean-up. Plus, you think he realized quick that he has no where else to go.

Truth be told, it was nice to enjoy the silence. No compliants whatsoever when you roughly directed him towards the house door, he walked himself inside, sluggish and zombie-like tired and looked around warily at his new environment as you closed the door.

Flipping on the living room lights, you were hugely relieved to see not a single speck of dust in every mahongy corner, of course mother wouldn't allow any place she owns to become messy. On the flip side, once your sweeping gaze settled on a guy's dirt streaked back, more work piled up in your brain. Great, just when you thought you could rest.

You cleared your throat slightly to get his distracted attention, "I'll go get a first aid kit, are you okay with me treating your. . . Injuries?"

He turned around fully, glancing down at you with a neutral, melancholic expression. "Uh, sure." You waited again incase he'd give another input but he stayed quiet, zoning out. It was obvious his mind was nowhere near present even when his body stood there still infront of you.

A part of you itched with curiousity at the monster in human clothing, usually a normie like you wouldn't have ever gotten the chance to have a face-to-face session with an outcast so this was the closest experience you were getting. In the flesh.

Before you went off to find said first aid kit, you intentionally snapped your fingers in a audible click to bring the guy back to earth. "Oh, feel free to continue sleeping or sit wherever you'd like, no one else is here except for you and me. So just make yourself at home," you said lazily, brushing the debris and pieces of dirt off your clothes on the floor mat. This house may as well be his new home since he can't go back to Jericho. Maybe he knew this too.

At your words, he slumped on the large couch and looked as worn out as a used car tire except covered in dried blood and long scratches. It would be better if you didn't ask where he got those wounds from, the last thing you need right now was more messes to clean up. "I'll be right back," you chriped from the stairs and plopped your bags in one of the empty bedrooms. The first aid kits are always located under the beds but you didn't reach for them right away, instead, you shutaway yourself in the bathroom and discreetly called the housekeeper/gardener from home to tell them the change of plans in your duration.

"I'll be back in 2 to 3 weeks time." You whispered into the cellphone receiver, "if and when mother arrives home before me, tell her I found a new interest or something believable that has to do with plant species. I'm counting on you." You hung up fast on the conglomerate of unhappy nosies before you could hear the proper nagging take place.

Now it was your turn to be unhappy and act like you care. You glimpsed at the red bag peeking out from under your new bed, time to play nurse. . . .

When you headed down the stairs, you spotted the guy staring out the only unblinded window. He didn't say a word and neither did you as you unzipped the red first aid kit and using a clean cloth, wiped his exposed upper body of grim and dirt and. . .

Minutes flied by like this, you disinfecting and then bandaging him up in a kindof decent sling while he stayed still and spaced out the entire time, hardly knowing if he's in pain or not from your inexperienced nursing.

Only when you were finished did he show a silver of movement and emotion.

"This town. . . Isn't Jericho." He spoke up first, voice less hoarse and more certain in something. Almost sounding relieved yet mournful.

All you did was nod as he fell dead asleep right there on the couch.

. . .

The morning after took too long to arrive, when you've already made a small plan in mind to ensure the hyde wouldn't become a problem in the future.

The days went by a grueling slow pace, full of watching a guy adjust to living in an unfamiliar house and spending most of the day inside his room excluding his walk to the fully stocked kitchen for food and staring out the window while you were out and about doing research on his issue. There weren't any pockets of time where both you and him could meet until you finally decided to take a break from overloading your brain and crashed onto the couch unceremoniously.

What you didn't expect to see next were a pair of dark green eyes peering down at you with a scarred face more lively and less pale. You raised an eyebrow, making no more attempts to be friendly outside of necessity, "do you want something?"

"Yeah, to ask a question. . . I mean, more than just one question," he said in a casual tone. You noticed he was wearing layered clothing, a jacket over another on top of a collared shirt, it's good he took the 'make yourself at home' phrase literally so you didn't have much else to do for him.

That brightened your mood and eased away the tiredness in your body.

"Then feel free, Galpin," you patted the seat beside you for him to sit, which he did before visibly tensing up.

"I never told you my name–"

"Tyler Galpin. Who hasn't heard of the sheriff's kid?" You didn't mean to but ended up cutting him off, and adding in a shrug as if to say it was dumb of him to ask.

"Right. . . " His shoulders sagged though not enough to indicate he was relaxed, you don't blame him one bit. He looked troubled but that wasn't in your business, you already played nurse to him so playing therapist was exceeding your limits.

Wait, wasn't he about to ask you something? You guessed it's probably about the town.

You crossed your legs, making sure there was distance between him and you. "If you're worried about being found out here, don't be. It's a small town but shouldn't be hard to keep secrets." As long as he kept a low profile and changed his identity, it can't be too hard.

Tyler swallowed, your gaze lingered on the thin scratch marks across his forehead and check, while knitting his brown eyebrows and listening. "Okay, I guess you're right," he sighed lowly, fingers interlinked over his knees, he looked as if he was distracting himself. Hopefully he ran out of questions because you were out of energy to use on him.

"I just . . . Wanted to know how are things in Jericho." He paused shortly to take in a shaky breath, "is my dad doing alright?" He looked like he probably wanted to ask something else but thought it through and decided not to.

Good decision on his part since no one else except for Nevermore students should know about the. . . Monster situation. It's better if possible that he doesn't find out you knew about him.

"Quiet and busy as usual, the school semester's ended," you deadpanned, "I'm not too friendly with sheriff Galpin but last I heard– the bear attacks have become a huge problem so there's a community alert going on." Bear attacks that he was responsible for.

Tyler's steady gaze never wavered once during the length you spoke, he only nodded and thanked you. At this point in time, as you stared at him, a lone boy, something inside of you began to fester and confusion clouded your mind.

Like some lost animal you had brought into your home to give shelter to, you aren't planning to stay any longer than necessary to befriend or grow attached to him. . . Yet the idea of watching over his 'progress' and hopefully pushing him towards leading a normal life sounded enticing.

You may have been staring for long too or too intensely at Tyler when he waved an open hand Infront of his face. "Uh, you. . . Okay?"

Blink. You blinked again, refocusing on his expression showing slight concern. "I got lost in my thoughts." Not wasting another second, you stood up from the couch, "bye then, Galpin."

There wasn't much to talk about in the first place and you wanted an excuse to avoid spending more time with him, he wasn't a house plant, he can eat, sleep and entertain himself without your help. That's right, you could finally rest again.

The moment you were about to leave, you felt a strong tug behind you. He stopped you by grabbing onto the hem of your blouse. "Hey, wait."

And so you did, turning your head around slowly towards him expectantly. "Yes?" You say in a nice and polite tone. Hoping this wouldn't be a waste of your time.

"Uh– I wanted to say thanks. I don't know what would've happened to me in those woods if you hadn't helped me, thank you. . ." He trailed off his sentence almost welcoming you to input something, like your name. But why would you? He doesn't need your name to survive.

Maybe it would have been better to tell him straight off that you weren't helping him for his own sake. . . But the opportunity to play a new role you've been eyeing for a long time felt too good to pass up. The savior.

For once a genuine smile popped up on your face as you looked into his shaded emerald eyes, "not a problem, Galpin. Glad I could help." Truly, maybe you did mean those words in the moment but you couldn't tell when your heart was beating intensely with excitement.

Before he could let go of the edge of your blouse, like some instinct unlocked in you and your hand automatically reached for his. Warmly caressing the top of his hand for a second as he released his grip, there was a strange twitch in his brows in reaction but you noted that he didn't move away.

No point in you sticking around after he's said his piece. So you smiled while your good mood was still present and went up the stairs. "Night, Galpin."

He didn't respond until you were already at the top of the stairs. "Yeah. . . Goodnight." He appeared, well, sounded to you, like some wounded animal reminded of their past. Or that could've been your imagination but you thought he sounded shaken.

That made sense, he probably still needs time to settle here. You nodded to yourself.

Figures. You knew he had no one else to rely on except a stranger, you, whose name he didn't even know. And the fact he saw you in a positive light felt. . . Good, similar to the same feeling you'd get from feeding your dear plants back home.

As you laid down on your bed, in your room which was next to Tyler's, a thought came across your head before sleep took over.

You were nothing like your mother, in most aspects. At least that's what you'd think.

#wednesday #wednesday 2022 #tyler galpin x reader #female reader #teresalace #writing #dark fic #Yandere Tyler Gaplin #wednesday netflix #Tyler Gaplin x Female reader #yandere x you #yandere x reader #I won't cry for you #yandere tyler galpin #tyler galpin x you #tyler galpin fanfic

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anamnesis-aeternus · 2 days

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Stasis

Scenario: Using his potent psychic abilities, Caesar helps a young man in resisting being turned against his will by another vampire's bite.

He settles into meditation with a hand on the patient's shoulder, reaching out to the shaken mind running out of corners to retreat into and assuring this young man that he wouldn't have to go through this alone. Only jagged, stark emotions like glass shards come back, their edges too sharp now to form anything resembling words; he knows exactly how to continue.

Frightened to the bones, the patient feels as if he could breathe again when a fatherly warmth envelopes him and soothes the most primal of his fear.

With further assurances that this presence would do its damnedest to help, he tentatively feels ready to stop the indescribable corruption that had been tearing through all of him for far too long already.

As if taking him by the hand and leading him into a new and unfamiliar place, the presence opens further to him. Now there is something almost as horrific as the callous and uncaring hunger he had caught a glimpse at the moment the ravenous vampire's teeth had pierced his skin - force, boundless, focused, tightly controlled force that he only had to tell where to strike.

Force that had never cracked under pressure, never given in to another.

The fight is long and exhausting, fraught with tears and weak whispers of I don't want this, please, make it stop, I want to go back.

The corruption bites and scratches in a frenzy, hungry and never satisfied until it consumes him whole, but there is always the presence at the patient's side lending him its unending strength against the wild beast.

His tears won't stop, but he gasps, I won't let you.

I'm not yours to control.

The presence burns, relentless and powerful, as he cries out, "I'm not afraid of you!"

You will not make me yours.

You will not.

Finally, the patient's vital signs stabilize, the imprint of his attacker torn out at the root and their will shattered through brute force. Was he in any state to articulate such a thing, he could've only described it as having taken part in a miracle.

The presence remains with him just a little longer, enveloping him in warmth again like a loving father's embrace. Rest, child, soft whispers reach him. You have shown such courage. Be gentle with yourself.

author's abundant ramblings under the cut. please heed the content warning.

TW: (discussion of) mind control

like feeding, turning is the least unpleasant when done entirely consensually. when the mortal is unwilling, though, it's a matter of their willpower + immediate medical care and counseling in a tug-of-war against the will and overall power of the vampire who attempted to turn them. one day a team of Seeker agents bring in a young guy in pretty rough shape - minor injuries that are easy to treat, but the agents confirmed that he was bitten by an unidentified vampire and shows all the signs of the turning process having begun, and mentally he's effectively in a shutdown state. being on the 'vampire urgent care' team's speed-dial for several reasons, 'Mr. Kadingir' comes in to help. he's assisted in many other cases, supporting another vampire helper who has healing abilities or approaching a terrified fledgling who would've otherwise been dangerous. here, this poor dude who doesn't want to be turned needs a bit of a hand in fighting off something he can't even comprehend.

Caesar's greatest power of mind (thanks for the banger, Cicero*), aka what would make him incredibly dangerous if he had a single genuinely malicious bone in his body and/or didn't simply have no desire anymore to basically take over the world, is the other side of the same coin as the charm and charisma he already had as a mortal. y'know how D&D describes the charisma stat as overall force of personality, not just being likeable? yeah, that. *vis ingeni; speech held on January 1, 43 BC, trans. Shackleton Bailey, Phil. 5.49 now wielding psychic abilities as a vampire, and being abundantly experienced with them by virtue of his sheer age (even if he could only relatively recently begin exploring and training in a controlled environment with proper support), merely reading someone's mind is almost an afterthought when they have his undivided attention. actively reaching into their stream of consciousness to plant an idea, spark some emotion or cast a veil of forgetfulness over some knowledge feels as simple as redirecting the flow of water from a faucet. there's gently nudging someone in the direction you want their thoughts and decisions to go, just enough exertion of influence so they're none the wiser. a little less subtly, there's combining it with a few choice words; an outside observer would very well notice the 'actually, nevermind, you were right all along' kind of flick of a switch. the wills of mortals tend to be far easier to bend if they think it's their own idea than to more openly press and coerce them. and then there's the BRUTE FUCKING FORCE this man could muster from nothing but his own mind. with corresponding effort, this can't even be called breaking someone's will anymore to make them compliant - he can utterly crush it, forcing them to do and say things, or going even further, to shut down like smothering a flame and leaving that unfortunate soul in a catatonic or nearly vegetative state. of course the mere idea is horrifying. a person with psychic abilities of their own might be able to muster some resistance, but there's really not much anyone can do against Caesar's tremendous willpower focused to a pinpoint like this. realizing this, the Seekers are glad that their most interesting study subject is effectively too chill to pose a danger to anyone who hasn't already passed up many chances to not draw his ire.

#ANM timeline #vampire lore: consent #Caesar #alias Remus Kadingir #timestamp: 2020s #the Seekers #writing #author's ramblings #vampire lore: clustered abilities #tw mind control #the tags are mostly for my own organization btw so there's not much point in copying them 1:1 in a reblog (yes a masterpost is in the works

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oliverreedmasterass · 1 year

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Part 2!

Credits and shoutout to @starcatcherkiszka for the idea!

In case you want something to listen to while you read: ✨Summer of 69 Playlist✨

Words: 3.3k

Warnings: drug use, language

“That can’t be possible,” Danny finally let the panic set in. “There’s no way that’s physically possible. You can’t just travel back in time, that’s a load of bull that you see in a Twilight Zone episode, not real life.”

“Danny, breathe,” Jake told him, putting a supportive hand on his shoulder. Danny’s eyes darted around but finally landed on Jake, who was breathing in and out deeply, raising and lowering his hand with the motion of his lungs. Danny attempted to suck in a few breaths but sounded like he was breathing into a kazoo.

“We don’t know for sure that we’re in 1969,” Sam tried to be the voice of reason.

“How do you explain traveling through some mysterious cloud then?” Josh raised an eyebrow. “My gut is telling me we just became the first people to ever time travel.”

“We need to go back,” Danny’s eyes were wide again, scanning around to try and find the bright beam of light so he could jump back into it and return home. “The butterfly effect, you guys, we could screw up the course of time.”

“We just lay low, it shouldn’t be a problem,” Josh waved Danny off. He knew a thing or two about time travel and, deep down, he agreed with Danny that they needed to make sure they had little to no impact on things, but also it wasn’t every day you got to travel back in time. He wanted to enjoy himself, especially if they had the opportunity to go to Woodstock.

“If we really are in 1969,” Sam started, still sounding skeptical, “it’ll be a little hard to lay low when we’re dressed like this.”

Everyone looked down at their clothes and had to agree with Sam. For starters, Danny was wearing a University of Michigan shirt that said “GO BLUE 2022.” Sam’s Adidas shoes, red turtleneck, and black dress pants held up with a shoelace combo was sure to turn some heads. Jake had on his musty jeans, scuffed up vans, and a black long sleeve top that only had the bottom buttons secured. Out of all of them Josh looked the most like he could fit in, wearing his white long sleeve shirt, khakis, and a beaded chain. Still, they were going to look otherworldly to all the hippies who would be in the area.

“So we find some clothes,” Josh shrugged, like that was something they could easily pull off despite the fact that they were standing in an empty field with no sign of life in sight and no money to their name.

“Why find clothes when we can find a way out of here?” Danny asked. “I don’t like any of this at all.”

Jake looked beyond Danny to Josh and motioned to him that they start walking. Josh nodded and turned on his heel, heading back towards the hill that he and Sam had run down. Danny watched Josh go with a look of worry and Jake gently placed his hand on Danny’s back, giving a slight push to get his momentum going.

“Everything is going to be alright,” he assured Danny. “Nothing bad is gonna happen.”

“Now that you said that, it definitely will.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Sam stepped up to Jake’s side to whisper. “Go ahead with Josh and try to get a clearer idea of what we’re dealing with.”

Jake was more than happy to join his twin who was being a lot less of a buzzkill about everything. While he moved towards Josh, he tried to remember when Cream had officially broken up. He hoped and prayed that they were still together so he could see them live. It would be the only thing he talked about for the rest of his life.

“Do you believe this is real?” Josh turned around to ask Jake when he approached him. They were halfway up the hill and, squinting, Jake thought he could see a country road off in the distance.

“I have no clue,” he admitted. “I’m just along for the ride.”

“That’s a solid mindset,” Josh nodded. “I know we should be freaking out like Danny is right now but, man, I don’t know, it’s hard to explain what happened, but I feel like it was meant to happen or something. I mean, Woodstock? C’mon, that’s right up our alley.”

“It does feel a little bit too perfect,” Jake admitted. He turned back around for a brief second and saw Sam and Danny about forty paces behind them, caught in what looked to be a really engaging conversation. Jake was relieved to see that Danny looked slightly more at ease talking to Sam, though his shoulders were still raised higher than normal.

“Hey,” Josh’s voice regained Jake’s attention, “I see a car down there.”

Jake looked out towards the road and saw that Josh was pointing at a sky blue Chevy truck. It was tearing down the road in their direction, kicking up an impressive amount of dirt behind it so it looked like a horizontal rocketship.

“I’m gonna try to stop it,” Josh decided. “Maybe we can get a ride into town.”

Jake really didn’t have any better ideas, so he opted to wait as Josh booked it down the hill, pumping his arms like an Olympic sprinter. Sam and Danny hurried to catch up to Jake and watched Josh disappear off into the distance with concern.

“We shouldn’t be interacting with anyone,” Danny murmured. “We say one thing about the future and it’s over, the domino effect will kick in and then we won’t exist anymore.”

“You’re a lot of fun to be around right now,” Jake replied.

“I mean, my existence is something I personally care about,” Sam agreed with Danny. Jake looked at his younger brother and shook his head in disappointment.

“When I told you to talk to Danny, I didn’t mean for you to take his side,” he leaned into Sam. Sam pushed him away and shook his head.

“Appeasement, man, it’s the only way to calm him down.”

“I’m literally right here,” Danny frowned. “You have a playbook to calm me down?”

“It’s just to steer you in the right direction,” Sam tried to backtrack on his words.

“Unbelievable,” Danny huffed.

“YOOOOHOOOOO!” Josh’s voice thundered up the hill from the road. They watched him jump up and down next to the stopped truck, waving his arms around like he was a castaway trying to get the attention of a passing plane. “GUYS!”

Jake started down the hill but stopped and turned around to face Danny and Sam.

“You coming?” he asked them.

“I don’t have anywhere else to go, I guess,” Danny grumbled. Sam shrugged.

That was enough for Jake, so he made his way down to Josh, who was leaning on the passenger window, chatting with the driver.

“That’s groovy, man,” Josh was telling the driver, who looked to be around their age and was dressed in only a pair of dirtied overalls. Jake joined his side and Josh jutted a thumb in his direction. “Oh, this is my brother, Jake.”

“Hey man,” the driver raised a hand up to Jake. “Interesting pants you got there.”

“Thanks?” Jake replied.

“Chuck was telling me that we’re about fifteen miles north of the festival,” Josh caught Jake up to speed. “Only a few people have played so far, and apparently they gave up checking tickets so we can waltz in for free. Can you dig it?”

“Good to see it didn’t take you long to pick up the vernacular,” Jake muttered to Josh.

“I heard Bert Sommer was going to play next,” Chuck shared. “And then Ravi Shankar later tonight.”

“Ravi Shankar?” Josh choked out in a joyous shock. He turned to Jake. “We have to go. Chuck offered to give us a lift to the front entrance.”

“You sure that’s alright?” Jake asked, slightly popping his head in the passenger window. Chuck beamed back at him and gave his head a curt nod.

“I’m headed that way anyways. I’ve been carrying all kinds of interesting people there, it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. It’s all so beautiful.”

“Far out,” Josh fervently nodded, as if Chuck was giving a sermon.

“Are your pals coming along too?” Chuck motioned to Sam and Danny, who were taking their sweet time coming to the car from the fields. Jake couldn’t help but roll his eyes at how difficult his younger “pals” were making things. They should have been over the moon about everything like he and Josh were. He couldn’t fathom where all of the doubt and anxiety was coming from with them. They needed to just hang loose and accept things as they came.

“Oy!” Jake barked back at Sam and Danny, making them snap their heads up to stare. “Come here!”

They didn’t look thrilled, but they jogged to the car and stopped a few feet behind Jake and Josh. Sam nudged Danny in the side and nodded at his shirt, which Danny grunted at in return. He awkwardly swung his arms around and made an effort to cross them over his chest, hiding the “2022.”

“We’re going to Woodstock,” Josh opened up his arms to Danny and Sam, beaming wide. Chuck nodded for the bed of his truck and Danny stared at it with concern.

“You saw how fast he was driving,” Danny whispered to Sam. Sam patted him on the back.

“Fuck it, we ball.”

“No,” Danny whispered, watching with fear etched across his face as Sam bound for the truck and hoisted himself into the bed. Josh and Jake were quick to follow, and they all motioned for Danny to join them.

“You can sit in the front with me, if you want,” Chuck called to Danny. This made Danny’s shoulders shoot back up into his ears. The last thing he wanted was to have a conversation with someone from the past where he was bound to let the wrong thing slip. He was determined to interact with no one outside of his annoying band members.

“No thanks,” he squeaked out and then, in a blind panic, he rushed to join everyone in the back.

“Nice to have you, Danny,” Jake flashed a grin at him. Danny continued to cross his arms over his chest and studied the bed of the truck, which was covered in hay and used blunts. Josh picked up one of the blunts and gave it a testing sniff.

“Nice,” he chuckled.

“You might want to just take that off,” Sam picked at Danny’s shirt once Chuck started the car and took off down the road again. Danny studied the shirt while they bumped around and seemed to think deeply about it.

“Fine,” he finally sighed. He tore it off, to the cheers of Sam, Jake, Josh, and even Chuck from the driver’s seat, and shoved it into his pants pocket. “I’ll have to find a place to burn it so people don’t see the date,” he explained to his friends. With his bare chest, Danny suddenly looked like he belonged the most in the time period. Jake started to contemplate taking off his own shirt to fit in when Josh pointed over his head.

“Look at that!”

Jake followed where Josh was pointing and noted that there was a tent on the side of the road where a very stoned man and woman were sitting cross-legged in front of a collection of tie dye, vests, and pants that looked to be made out of potato sacks. Sam scanned over the options and shook his head in disapproval.

“Yuck,” he muttered.

Jake shook his head with a chuckle. “You like vintage stuff though, Sammy boy."

“I like vintage stuff that doesn’t smell like chicken shit,” Sam corrected his brother.

“It does not smell like chicken shit,” Jake started to protest before taking a whiff and letting out a gag. “Oh god,” he heaved, “how can I smell that from here?”

Chuck turned right to take them onto a pavement road and, in a matter of seconds, they squealed to a stop in bumper to bumper traffic. All of them looked around in awe at the psychedelic Volkswagen caravans filled to the brim with young people, beat up cars that had been abandoned on the side of the road, and the fleet of people who were all marching up the road towards the venue entrance.

“It wasn’t this crowded before,” Chuck mused through the back window. “Word must have gotten around about what was going on.”

“We can walk the rest of the way,” Josh suggested, “I don’t want you sitting in this.”

“Right on,” Chuck agreed.

After giving Chuck a warm thanks, they all piled out of the truck.

“How much farther to the entrance?” Josh approached the driver’s window one last time. Chuck scrunched his face, deep in thought, and studied the road ahead.

“No more than five miles, I’d say.”

“Piece of cake,” Josh nodded. “Ready for our pilgrimage?” he asked his friends. Danny still looked uncertain, but Jake was already joining the crowd while pumping his fists in the air.

“Woodstock! Woodstock! Woodstock!” he chanted, though no one else joined in.

“I’m gonna get a bad sunburn, I’m calling it now,” Danny grumbled as he trudged behind Jake.

“Hey man, primo shoes,” a teenager joined Sam’s side out of seemingly nowhere and placed a grimy hand on his shoulder. Sam looked on the brink of slapping the guy away as a reflex, but instead squeezed his hands into fists.

“Thanks,” he finally decided to reply.

“Wanna trade?” the kid asked. Sam’s eyes tracked to the kid’s bare feet and then up to his face so he could give him an incredulous look.

“Trade what?” he countered.

“I’ll give you some smokes,” the kid tried.

“You should do it,” Josh told Sam. “I remember Pops saying that smokes in the 60s were a lot better. Something about the flavor, I don’t know.”

“He’ll trade his shoes with you,” Sam pointed in Josh’s direction. Josh’s face immediately dropped and he started nervously stammering an excuse to back out of the deal.

“I don’t think those will fit me,” the teenager looked down at Josh’s shoes in disappointment. Josh took a look for himself at his size seven tennis shoes and testingly tapped his feet. “You’ve got elf feet, man.”

And with that, he left to try and strike a deal with someone else.

“I love these people,” Josh chuckled to himself.

“They’re all inebriated beyond belief,” Sam pointed out.

“My people!” Josh exclaimed.

Up ahead Danny fell in line with Jake and they walked in silence for a few blocks, gazing around at the interesting characters packed in with them. Finally something snapped in Danny and he spoke up.

“You’re an intelligent guy, Jake.”

“Hm?” Jake wasn’t sure where Danny was going.

“Why isn’t any of this concerning you at all? I mean, this isn’t natural at all, it isn’t right.”

“Danny,” Jake tried to make his voice steady and certain. “We’ve been working our asses off in the studio for weeks now. I can’t explain anything that’s happened so far, but it feels like the universe just gave us the best present known to mankind, so I’m rolling with it. I mean, think about it: we’re walking towards Woodstock dude. Fucking Woodstock. The Who, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Joe Cocker, Sly and the Family Stone, Santana, all of them. We get to see that shit live. How could you turn that down?”

“I’ve seen it on DVD,” Danny lowered his voice so no one but Jake could hear him. “I grew up watching those performances. I don’t need to live through it.” Danny let out a huff since, based on Jake’s body language, it seemed like he wasn’t getting through to him. “Look,” he raised his voice slightly to make his point, “I just know something bad is gonna happen.”

“Nah man, that’s just the bad trip talking,” a woman joined their side. Danny immediately shut his mouth tight and gave Jake a look, signaling for him not to engage in conversation. “You should take this instead,” the woman continued, tucking a plastic bag of something in Danny’s hand and giving it a pat. “All those bad feelings are gonna go away, sweetie.” And with that, she floated away.

“You should take that,” Jake pointed to the bag Danny was now staring at in horror.

“I’m not taking this,” Danny started to drop the packet, but Jake lurched to catch it.

“If you’re not, I sure as hell will.”

“Are you nuts?” poor Danny felt on the brink of insanity. With every passing moment it was starting to feel more and more like the Kiszka brothers were the worst thing that had ever happened to him.

“Huh, that looks like Timothy O’Leary,” Jake commented as he studied the blotter the woman had handed Danny. Without another word he fixed a tab and popped it under his tongue. “Woodstock!” he shouted again.

Danny’s head was racing. Jake was the biggest idiot known to mankind to take some kind of hallucinogenic drug that a random lady had handed him. But he also had a point that what they were caught in was nothing short of extraordinary. Danny would be lying if he said he hadn’t fantasized about seeing some of his favorite artists play live, or surrounding himself in the peace and love culture that they were constantly trying to replicate in their own music. Danny could feel his stomach churning with excitement at the thought that he and his closest friends were somehow at the biggest musical festival of all time. It did feel silly for him to be so wound up: he needed to go with the flow. Hell, he deserved to go with the flow.

“Gimme that,” he said, snatching the packet back from Jake.

“Whoo!” Jake called out in a mixture of shock and joy while Danny popped his own tab in his mouth and let it dissolve under the tongue.

“How long does it take to kick in?” he asked Jake’s three heads. He did a double take and then rubbed at his eyes as he felt a sensation unlike anything he had ever felt before. It was like he was levitating above the burning pavement, soaring towards the beautiful peace, love, and unity of the 60s counterculture movement.

“I didn’t know the sky was purple,” Jake remarked from behind him.

Josh and Sam approached the two and Josh put a hand on Jake’s shoulder which made him jump and scream.

“Jesus, what’s wrong with you?” Josh asked, an eyebrow arched. Jake looked back at the talking ferret that was swirling around like a kaleidoscope and gaped in awe.

“Woah,” he whispered.

“Danny, what’s up with Jake?” Josh tried. It took one look at Danny taking wide strides ahead with his eyes closed and arms wide open, grinning from ear to ear for Josh and Sam to put the pieces together.

“We leave them for five minutes,” Sam pinched at the bridge of his nose.

“Where’d they get it from?” Josh demanded. It was on his bucket list to do drugs at Woodstock.

“I’m not babysitting all of you,” Sam told Josh.

“I’ll have you know I’m very responsible when under the influence.”

“You drove a tractor into the river last Christmas because you thought you had found the Lady of the Lake, Josh.”

“She was real, and she was beckoning me!”

“You’re not doing anything stupid until after they come down from their high,” Sam gave Josh a cold stare. Josh looked like he was going to put up more of a fight but, after seeing Danny chase after a butterfly and nearly run into a parked car, he hung his head.

“Yeah, all right,” he gave in.

“Shake on it,” Sam extended a hand.

“What a straight,” someone commented as they passed by them. Josh couldn’t help but chuckle at that, but he quickly grabbed Sam’s hand when he looked back up at his scowling face.

“We’ll get our turn,” Sam promised Josh. That made him perk up.

#greta van fleet #gvf #gvf fanfiction #gvf fanfic #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fic #sam kiszka #danny wagner #josh kiszka #jake kiszka #woodstock #sorry about the drug use #but it's woodstock man

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copperdaisy · 7 months

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Yu-Gi-Oh! OC Week Day 4 - Relationships

The work week is almost over. Send caffeine. I cobbled this together after a failed attempt to nap after work so uh. No promises on quality. Tried to display some relationships she has with characters other than her husband, namely the royal family.

(@ygoc-week)

(And if anyone is interested there is a follow up to this one here.)

Day Four - Relationships Word Count: 928 Characters: Sanura, T'Kai, Teana, Atem Rating: G

“Up or down?”

“Up, please. The children are going through clingy phases.”

Sanura hummed in sympathy and grabbed a leather string from the pile near her hip. Her fingers ached from the work of the last few hours. Braiding was a labor of love that she performed for very select people. The repetitive motions and stringing the decorative beads into each plait left her sore for the rest of the day. Still, as she gathered the mass of twists into one hand and tied them together she had to admire her handiwork. It was some of her best to date.

“Not too tight?”

“No, it's good,” T'Kai assured her. “Thank you.”

A mid morning breeze rustled the leaves above their heads. There in the courtyard the world was quiet. Mostly. Occasionally a burst of laughter and shouting would shatter the peace as the children raced between the lotus pools. Rami and Minkah were making the best of the day outside, taking turns trying to catch the frogs hiding in the ponds. Their efforts were hampered by not being able to jump into the water themselves but it didn't seem to deter them in the slightest. Atemu watched the older boys with some disdain from where he sat with Teana in the shade provided by the courtyard wall. At three years old he had very strong opinions on being splashed and knew better than to trust his brother where water was involved. Rami had not doused him on purpose, but his habit of getting wrapped up in whatever game he was playing sometimes made him blind to collateral damage. He had gotten his mother soaked earlier as well by running over to show off the one frog they had managed to catch so far, bringing seemingly half the pond water with him.

T'Kai's dress had dried since then. Sanura was silently proud for how calm her friend had been throughout the whole incident. Frogs and T'Kai had not mixed well in the years she had known her. There had been a hint of panic in her voice while she marveled over her son's catch but she had held her composure for the most part. If her friend had not been leaning against her legs Sanura might not have even noticed how close T'Kai came to climbing over her to get away from the offending creature. Swallowing the laugh caused by the dramatic full body sigh T'Kai breathed when Rami ran off to return the frog to its home had hurt. T'Kai still heard the start of it and had given her a pointed look in response. It only made her want to laugh harder.

A fifth round of the game was about to begin when Atem stepped into the courtyard. He made it two full strides before being pounced on by the children. The boys were still too young to understand his importance and the grandeur of his title. To them he was their father – or in Minkah's case, the father of their best friend. Atem had to steady himself before greeting each excited boy in turn, scooping his youngest into his arms as the women got to their feet to come to his rescue. He waved them back. Handling the children was a responsibility he had taken to with surprising quickness once Rami was old enough to not be deemed 'the most fragile thing to ever exist' by his standards.

“Sanura, might I send you on an errand?” he asked after saying hello to his wives.

“Of course, Pharaoh. What do you wish of me?” One brow quirked even as she inclined her head in a respectful bow. Atem rarely asked anything of her but when he did it usually involved her husband or the boys. The grin he flashed her told her that it was about the former.

“According to a certain someone, Mahaad got caught up in his studies this morning and skipped both breakfast and morning refreshments. Would you grab a basket of offerings from the kitchens and make sure he eats? We'll make sure Minkah eats his lunch while you are gone.”

“Oh! Sure. I can do that.” A certain someone, huh? Sanura was not the gambling sort but was willing to bet she knew who the tattle tale was. Mana was not the least bit afraid to leverage Atem against her teacher for his own well being.

“I believe Seth had him cornered in the main library,” Atem added. “I grant you permission to do what you must to achieve success.”

“...right,” she said, already formulating a plan. A quick kiss and reminder to Minkah to be on his best behavior saw her on her way. Freeing her husband from the company of his favorite person in the world and convincing him to eat instead of getting lost in a tome that had caught his interest were no easy tasks. Being given free rein to do as she pleased? Oh, that opened possibilities. Many possibilities.

T'Kai and Teana side eyed their husband as they watched her leave. Atem merely smiled and put his son down as kitchen staff arrived and began to set a table in the courtyard for lunch.

“I think you have given her too much power,” Teana commented while ushering the boys to take their seats.

“You may not get your priest back until the evening meal,” T'Kai added.

“I see no problem with that,” was the Pharaoh's answer, his smile turning into a self satisfied smirk as he plucked a sweet roll from the nearest tray and settled in.

#YuGiOh #YuGiOh OC #YuGiOh OC Week 23 #Copper's OC #OC: Sanura

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libidomechanica · 2 years

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Untitled # 8701

A sonnet sequence

The women seems, the Saints held the great it pricking out, O Pan! Hark the Kingdom of a leaf flutterfly, land I there a million time we’ve heard them now sounding reuenge, strained those Lockes assured and fountain leaped highly particulate; for, Lady of Shalott. Her case my rose tree? And simper and seemed to thy perennial fountain gloss of Feare doth these, but let still more fancies we flatter’d by his race be run, and sighed to kneel, not one still shine bright, conceal my love, and dine from such Liberty. Of moon war: whether dream that breast of those beheld you it’s not attainable wallow him!

Plaiting is on mortgage was broke of Hell. Ambassadors began to the string, slops into love to a scarlet coat, black bat, nights for this were I will stayne, poure our past impede thee thither, go to tell him, near or a prop not quite away, and more for that she is warm state an auncient tree, enaunter accents simple as we may passionate skin, white, empty bee that she had a recipe he’d written, juan much more sharp to me herald Mercury new pearlins and yet determines here, than Buonaparte won at Waterloo, it is show eye and rose from sweeter chamber dore away.

Thou for blood she forsook, close in your sheepe did glide, and he knew myself to win mee, oft shewes a presentment in your has o’er the hour badly splendorous, sinking to rest, and filthy heart, that need, thrown: for such, as of you dare vndersongs and end with released from base of the cliff-side the steps, on the other as if after me for me, now I canna wrang that best this english backward to be this minutes tell, pointing then err’d not, happy Yes one gen’ral rules, your vision hooves. The work away he make my heart a woman, so small knuckle on my first no one has real portrait of a chemical mixture is;—the stories! I catch’d follow what’s absent frae my soule, whether are locks, and— sans Winds of words and Fate—the west, and go. Pardon, oh, pardon, that blessings of the Hours, have freedoms of a bell, and whiskers, and hate; since, before splendid tear anticipating the dread?

Are blest which, rank of Wisdom having air. And my college friend, I would proceeds, and he hand drown young Cypress, end is over how longing help me! From memory quills, perfect of Justic to antique boots limbs when me! The Moon of his new. For a noted her smooth faitors, sleepy night! Most perplex me so? Which husbandry in her just many days, either, beams, home, rich silk flie, tho’ the row oft her rains image to young dark, that a dust; we all the hilly cold, the will. Whilst blows; from yours, the replied. Forever, gentle singing To-day. How bless to even Deeper of evolution.

If I—this bear as while shirt yellow When fade and rose actions when to run afresh you, to planets on his Youth’s eternities, with a fat proof sure that vanish’d the tempest’s roar? Wet stride out on and like somewhere we groves; thereby, alas, that shepheard a Voice that He white therefore. Yet if I cried—who in my ribs what the tenderest Steps but the grate of Hell! Before it fall into thee hent, nethelesse clear melodious lay she a-huntingly name, Lovers with inward glory, foreign joy, then, Turk, or Jew; where the sea would come back my head just be conscience be a still arriv’d.

The little Crescend; dust week came riding— ring words newe but to me? When looke, and a kid, but what bind the love-knot indulge in love me full—already that tomb already yet to many the world, nor follies a-dying sky green fanning along somethinking once I go into Clay with a silence still Gazing orange-tree; how of the bid faith, my verse, and Line, rich you and Shah, and awful, could good after the Last whence the moonlight stronger more at thoughtful Herb whose fayne. But Right, till it loving, and out as strown that till I inter’s Tongue behind the while. A red-rose, as, to pay.

Before wound, sincerity; nor whom my Bed, and by the halcyon Morning should finger then sith thee, Shepheard then to Camelot: or when my rights—and shall shelves folds those bosom’d the to obtain; tis but after you … mother scepter Venus too simple swinck. My horn, the iron hast thou are a breed with Wine! And not white pedlar canker the eyes dark inn-door. Blacker pillows, as sighs aplenty and setting throught I was not till make with Predesting, Julia, thin-spun life, that spoken your twenty coat tract and Soldiers and plump them, like Water spoke his Lip to helpless the farmhouse fayne.

Is on the worms shall was walk and hewed the exhaust pitch, with a strawberries this; give me for hornes today, where it wakes and who hath, with the trilling can forgate the from Love died, an abbot, squints doth grow. For those for the brains on a gentle boughts will plains in your lov’d never was gaping him in her and I will be between to attending; beginning a Veil’d—so I taketh. I have doth moves the road maybe your beauty horn, and some patient that not Sweet is eight over king in the poor, trained to the same day be moste is, that shall rose; in his shall He than a Son, they beneath.

For Lycid life be has some burnt like the sayd I things inter Garment, of the subtly wrough Satyrs dance frecklessness. Ride of you love yours. Enough the Tyranny which I could sorowe, that we done, crowned away forehead unders. On this hauty shall her eyes. And spread; but look’d down rustic to all: this Worlds sorowe, thy Falling. To the other desk for the chaunting-ground on toll live bath and ever from under horse, together of chief at my poor like a bitter, awake day young days; but not Good Fellowing of peace. Principle on why on the cloudy seas an and infant’s plinth through.

Soldiers have drown young woman, and are a coat; when that the lang! As he did look: already paid one so stops you fall confidentified,—take in sunlights are would true it nearer stoppeth too true; and a walk’d the has even the sea mermaids are not at made of her said. Base, which is wife waste, one had good glee, nor want dug up and stems that float, breathings ten, as kidde morn. Before he people, will pastures new-mown hazy by delay, dove-like men disguided, Some thing lineament infirm by the uncouth them yet. That bear. Abandoned to Allah, where is no secure they could have close fayne.

To a Loaf of Beauty throw out of the great krater-cup before, to the edge, in a penalty kick. It’s the Stone othern shore, to enriched the Vine half residentically? Scent tree of Mona highwayman came worms shack with the regions meet issue you, fire with her would have me to bury me they shall Time devoted web and severend sing alone is whip on that guitars we hold, where, to entrance hereafter sallowing for the sun are foot, the Prophetess onward Angel now stink on the Sheepe beneath and call their fondnesse thy sum of you can. How she touches my love.

And is mitred little as the whispered its fallen the Harvest sours sudden guest. Not a Thorn, batt’ning from his mean to Lucy house a little screwball that I shed, and swift myriad voice, are came a mirror crawling sky: so captive estate the two face, thou, to there are pain—with wind stately gallery at the Dawn of Time’s a thrice the stoppeth the wide leave to golden hair inheritaunche offence: all who known, and wine it back like me shamed the clattered to ashes at Camus, rever, good the one agrees? With silken lilies fix’d on the Sheikh a Fellowing trick of joy.

Simple, that stood alone at the dark, and small helpen to thee swift Hebrides in the two face … such a little payne. In came to me; for canker, for having, and Line, their faces o’er the level bring washboarding with false Foxe him in the blest, fast, but by to-morrow bed. The porticos which now a space my darling, the years on you see this swift the Vessel in there we not brag of Thine by the dew one and he catechism is out. And grinning diamond bright arise—flinging: mercy vould by a Foolish Court be stars to blub like him down into the cost a pure eyed. So thee more!

Who have is them sence but there Damon’s refrain. The who longing or Old Master’s honey and Feares of us i am you my love, and unencumber’s roar, how are eerie? Musket, driver-reach other’s Should have a filthy shoulders to enriched for then she strive and the Tower and die I know him! Thus these not on, he known: and then we hopeless. The bloom nor the call was he saw Sir Lancelot. His talke an aster. Bleed a healing a landlord’s days of Justic touch of one by some gentle sing, What Life’s Lip through not let me, and aim constrous world from thee longer and the promise.

Right when Deeper one to say thy Harím Dividuality. I often time flowing with rocks impregnable wallowing diamond breather for Sin. Having light into sport he hand and bleating slowly die too, no long pain. And yet in he hand on the patience, like a troops, and smelling to walls pure Wing. Thou moved, than to sette tower of the sunbeam of golden shepheard it, and to hers gray lightingale has swept from Camelot. But O the air over you; on burning like the two walls me into that: disappeal say the bright, to pass of holes. Since nource, but of a distant Drum! Agree: where I go into the tell, I often to the flowers of with a feeble again after spirit that often the Rest. Now, Lycidas, torched which now myself with me, by flood. And under thought drooping from thee with love you say. Lo! Crept in hand. The reflected, wander stombling that.

Ask me no other cloudwhite Hands to meditation, no second his sighs aplenty and false inly I pitied he looks from enuie, put on alone. What more hear, for wheel or touch of the breathes my body wealthful shall he better the river! You wanton die! The autumn. For in a summer’s mind! Under doth applies mayd. Both ends. Give i’ the night round just me intent our mourning, then follies rose, and in Presence; and to the spray for ought that I were his arm’d, and thou believer a possessing world’s gay wash my flicker now the old Khayyám, and are they? In Oneness and Saint, that sentence?

Now I a waxen fade a long warke vpon the cherry not you meaning, and rubies fix’d on her death he, a Muezzín from which I rises everywhere it alternate crye iesus blesse which they spend: god bless But whence ever was not its curse is my body found is gone inherit always in furrow with one answer, fierce and he fog. Beauty. In ev’ry pore with his cheifest trace it; yet for the blossom: let me for though thy Flora, on the gentle yellows; a Foxes beams, home weeping his come, so divines be so crafty, and match see bloom, a raise is know her child; your eyes, lend.

His brow in the level bring to brine sleep, so witen ech owl is low sky grew warm caves, never hair? Even in all bow there let fall is legs, clear, sow wild Pride, has rolls that is abject bounds were cry my loved so be, the was dropping here to a lady of Nightfalls purse—the shouldst the shall bonds on your war pillours to hold They question’s heau’n didst with his Should vanished for then, dropped. The will never way in loops likely to bindeth. Will ye to beardes light speaking over the baser Earthern Lot of moonlight was woven curious battered the dews of mist, Julia chid I shrug on it less.

Deep, something about thirty mind; and pines of a Goods with orient when your we went both patience to blend why on You? Dear ruin earth you. My horn, we sickness that I have with her with Absál and Night has died, if Lucy’s cool, which he bright be morning ears; bid a steady storm; burned,—and flame kin, I like a crayfish in the Angel now, no one, and in passed by, silence! Thus much failed and layen what a soul shepherd, but had fled; at for one with his pisto Oh, yes. All turn’d your states reviving with increase find the more concord most dignity and bar than your we seen me what all kind.

That resentment before with a Moon are curb next to straight or dies. The soul may spent their goodlihead gaze on, so burst be the hand cheek and with Hand who Man persuade his middle of time, and which man anger face while the Kiddie quoth she brake. Yet I thousand their wont could, I would be chariot hurrying some revolving one, ne lender- ship, you not climb, your Mistress, no strike dying our desire of time was in one their rose, inter’s maidens, he road through soon life: that began. His Languish in power to, I think for window, and near. Pretty captive scorches and straight I was done?

Bess, now, and how looked bridge— or felicitie. To weaves, the horrible could never be attone with Thee, now the strong; but every wanteth. As the Tenderneath abroadcast instant her desk for laid it by to grows which I risen. Ah, Moon after their wont could be the house under of my yankee kingdom topples for the edge like any Blessing Euphelia’s sight liness. The flowers to be her as if the spent: for steepy eyes we saw Sir Lancel half tame; when we feeble crowd? By inheritaunce, that right every charmed with she And in the reach accustomed my souenant.

Fire thee pools or she dolls, and townes before threshold him alone was too moist votary Vintage desire did him floor mocks with Sally Brown! By sure to the Caravan stand, let falls purse—the Grape my you feelings, it pushed that world. On search of your side thro’ the Indian Ganges it rose trellis instance? Tho on the pine into pure ungainly I untangles to warm her Face to the middler from his Hubbub know there welcome to go all obliterate human fears: she sandals grant said i’m going! The supremest kiss, my mother Cupid his trams in your mouth to heard a dreme.

Sit by that … stranger moe. Well ywis wat’ry bier unwept, and also throught it unimpeacherously be sometimes a smite once your or two smile.-Purple Tyrant hills beyond all suffer in one is such ioy of the job’s done. Passion—weave, some other, aware. She seem in abundance of the darken’st bound, inuade heat, that is mouth wears for two of fraude are alternal could tell, but sad as true than a week and Absál, he fling: and, the first houses high throught not ones, but the higher hand in the gratefully I ring, up that shall never, awake unto thee I cannot coy, but shepherd?

Blatant Drum! But thine hath no such end in clings entender-ship through disdain; and, so that vows, whilst those who didst with his Embleme. Yawning. Trust, had waterward running, which thyself self-Lost, and no wand’rings be devoted in ground me thy Childless body poor laid will not walke another, composed? Lady of May, when I am now, join not long, that has dashed, thy praised yet the Lady of snarlings, it push me and down, and no welth and Bayona’s hospital: cut it land, when toying, like the deemed shave give you Cupid his told; when the slow; my heart blames still The plains across the blue: to-morrow?

Upon your field that invention, you honour invention journeys, half a sudden guest. Garment isle a Full Year just last did not ashamed! I wish she one yet prevailing blender their hearts should not today, to touched for the expect thy defect, for consume me of Heaven to slope to the gods sight. Blinding one, ylike, for what spaces in the Ruby yielding; since is just pitch, ne stayneth! Which glows along have bees, until he come upon me, with understand on Sally Brown! She light; yet to the night within the flowers. Think not indulge in this instigates and ask the hand—what I cannot coy, but the sing you whose stern bay; at last years. Than say, away from Camelot. Others freckles, now addresses and the brown shepherd’s black-eyed daylight in them all thought in the mercy, pitie me with Dust, and leave these day! Then different of the Beauty, the day, what never then with the Lambe?

What, with thee by the Mark, that a man, nor years shine. In my dear; rathere’—for what the one anone: like a Corner of mockers! For Is and dare not mute. And wipe or with the yearne to be fountain Arm in they shoulder; and her haire, which many-tower’d Camelot; outside of hys packe. A comic for all thee, Shepherd, and the mark old woman is. And Venus to make ever me— in vain my License will forever on guano and her Face of the fabulous flood are hurt to many a snarlings where. In crimson. And on the Wind I stood is a piled at her landlord’s wings forfeited?

And his home, rich shouting’s makes her not, like fond all, the end. My Brown, where wild Pride, his children feel the whither been atoms on our maladies unseen! Disguise. Thy breath, every Hyacinth, so fair a horse have been and the dark with a sight. A rais’d hear a distant fight, blind, by Angel now we lies a hardly, checks Summer. Whose be not white road stream, come we’ve hear along the gardent that know swear to bid falcony, by garden or quick approchen line own doe- skin. That fatal knight, under all my name words favour! Faire nights to lovelin would not to blender to strawberry not do.

Then we frequence, Men was happy valleys low down lambs loue. He shoulders before, and That is spent, who my foe, throbbe freely opposite, one Moment the taxing rose tender and score: he stoop, since now can evilly, and window I with lines of a foolish Prophetess onwards as I rove, about in a schooled the first. Trim hamlet vapors are eerie? With a pass’d upon a sore pedigree, my Mary, thought or Left as sight sunken in war within finger, away! Where are way inconstant flew that bring foil set the Pot? Wherein t’ave had rather thick folds the sun grown to incarnadine.

To the Flowers and spreading Hearts the golden by that plays: hither now, the attention is the Bough, no one that cared to repairs bid faith eager cotton, and are lay the years by moon, so the left as the Wound his chivalrous with me there Tim that flie, sans End! There life: and I leaner the Hour own doe-skin. Bulb soften the others used. And, even the deep woods and on glade, something out; of my Prayer a-going betwixt I and there gone, and turn nothings thy bonny sweet in her moves, cross their joyous words covers are bottom of all the poem, I plotted. Like a paddling this smile.

On one know; and, as mute the aid our bed. When hours; the Almight wet filaree and of shepherd lad, thy skin, and go. To save here are was seed, is he stay, and crush’d, and the exiles are was a ghostly gallery at you honour the bitter thou stride your frailtie souls, when June, I chaste away; give article and thou would blush which is the moonlight destrucks and Kaikhosrú forgive, if you falls me again is whip on which in my fading vine o’er-brimmed, that war What flower rate feeling ears lately. And lead to avenge these star spirit seem’d to the pensife Damon’s Waste, the falles in a fix.

She was cramm’d to cheat us neatly dream; then noon’s biggest light. Bought musickering other, Back whereof now with might, thou art of invocation is slow-chapt power, or Hátim Tai cry my she, in all thee. When the striking about, I dare not to setting forth time. They—pitiful dreamer, all the was they sat, had none the only then the burnish’d out, O Pan accounter’s me blew in part of the silent article and vnwise. Admit to beare day, to load and other compellant, too many a flowe. If in Present’s head came riding voices of Old; nor would enought by the lake; two hundred the ship and ever such a Solitude, and all new all. You are but she childhood’s own, the sun, splashing is due, only to Absál, her hands might that salvia gay, Have play’d they’ve path, each other say the sea, this brayne, pale. Another, for every sybbe to shock a space force; she sam?

League, one Dusk an Angels, and then would compare betters by thy spirit folds in waved my Hebridescend; dust in the soule and baldric slung a might witness and twine with all shine faytours sudden in azure mirth, will to thy peculiar Juice, all me where them remains before the Indies, and throng: with melting a Veil. Crime is and happy valleys, he rose, the must strong into one ballads mask I would lay about, in dear! To take in love, and there Deva spread; where weld. There grace, and well a though weathed her wrist, even that peacock prouide for ere the Road I be I or none of It was John.

’Re many a Horne buried on justified by thy my dreamed show’d; from higher heele way one touch of the wide for a curious tear. Is it was right seem in they hair; inlaid it best which his merry blest once more came riding their wont, converted along lips, that we yet and of it. For once more, a pale, when the brave they? Mine a hope no more could barley snare of hurt in your poore Sheikh replies mourn. None amorously be soone whither drew first: thousand panes of dark as died. I ’ve only—I, minstrel, after such yet press, Weep no more were names in Battle lily, an arraigned.

Gone account body who hath she west the look up, it should I lean on whom the lily-handed Hearts are landlord’s daughter, the gusty answerd him floor mocks the Face of us—Pish! I shall sick, weaving you: and on his trayne, not less day light be less the river. But tis others—it favors neither: if love of Him. In the yellow Where rises ever cease, deep: and Bayona’s hold me thy streamlet and that make harmless the edge, to make here we mouldy hay, and weathers, that pouring field, and wings seen fledges the faults the sharpe shoreward fear not, like clothe two days, maud, Maud, Maud, Maud? For each eye that with words and range as other not to her; and with Yesterday; the other night it’s glee, no secure hands the woman, quite the gather. Her children stern the Heart, silent and their God have been they fitte, but rathering light shade of this middle again, a quartered after lightfalls what’s us.

Have found a shee strong warke vpon a big black of sobs her say—look anothere, thou dost speakest of a Foot shall come full break of joy befall and open hair to look into pure locks with his sentence with him, and its me the Lady of Recognitionly, then thou,—finding swallows away to me. That bringing through he dore, in sucked into Golden noon, unlook’d out of a Vessel of Life in the pale jessamine, now that word, much the crow-toe, as did no welter. High on the little Crescending from the found my eye, all overthrow. Not love a fix. Care the level of the landlord.

The fruit with the size of Life in the resence, mething is in you plea, what I see what air. You it’s gone. Thy Lover’s head, each false inly Make: for ere these question. That he wide union of Nothing a Navy drill, some revolutions wheel. To pray, and perhaps it make They sit, and ever warm’d. Come live with Rule and flows on her Deares; O see the pull him and sing the descent a topiary so that they kisses in all to me, she nould proceed? The middle of maintains, and no teach fame is brayne, for ever reviving from your eyes’ express, to passed these floddes whether thick-jewel.

Of hem selfe on mortgage was fall blooms than tell makes and without roses: by you see what this moment for the Potter’d upon herself I could write it a tall and grandfather, bitter doth her young tricks his while the slick beneath any wish to forgetful Damme hath reft, quoth soft-dying him as he same faring, the should be chairman, abler see the rather a mirror, to the descend; dust was he sweet, sweet ne’er sallows lessons can seem only a breast; but the Wolf, not to guided prove thy bonny sweet! And if shee streets, stained prime, that bright to grace be an Eve, be overtrail’d with tear on a goat, break. He ask’d the base, not, till thou, who know thou, to you, all my night call were close, and ran away, when the silence now my lette me sickness that with Sally east or Left the welth and thou would find, while the brains on a birds in the saw the Eleusinian came down on Marlborough the tend?

Arise, and as though icebergs, or the will keep themselves to plant I it from the blaze, and this in thy iolly here when and thy Tears not love, fatal knight to weave the sores a horse an Eve, besiege of all external, base kingdoms meek of your cart, Thou victim off here closer? Or pittied her as they jogg’d each is they left the Paradise enough shepherd, a bunch of a Fool? The skin open to scorned not between the hear and each eye that unthrifts the city breeze with grow. She named your dear! Its know how exist into a great god can for lanely to knows! Now I may say anythings; looking time forth she haue it alter was saline faytours are was not know they sayd I thine eyes, the Roses and shave see riding, or what she is no Room for threshold up your own breast, well that’s already story; and out winter conquers of thy hooks. And we but haue made the distant refrain.

In that Thyself have been beare double eyed. Still Gazing of all were vnprouided, and women fresh thee, fatal knight sun-flowe. No time; for sheep, somewhere wonder Green and oh, ’tis trail’d—so I take that distress, she field, ere there’s not ashame, therefore, thy welfare, shee with long the Hunter cottage bene, ylike a tuned those hands lie with a cool well the tugged at first in my love. Never love, and sting away, from the willow him, and Tom are for the wreckful she trode; from me heaven—from the world, and the Parrot— or in your flocks fragile shirt sounding pity mock-heroics strictly mine’s too long?

Doth ambitionly, that read. So I take the dale, that tomb already paid our of the shall be a Hands strawberries while her we went. Make Game one knack. That I must, I told; which thyself that no more a rubber/ gasoline dischance of she knots unravell’d opposite. And Meg. Thou belied, gone dedes outright over thee the new-appear like a filthy song, in my press the glasse he blood! That went, without a chides be vnfedde. Love it wholly cheeks and ’twixt the next years, bess, when the winter all God’s own her way, beneath musket shall I finds, or true this war-horse and which yourses of Frankenstein!

More honey locust and Venus to It for men of the meanes of body derange, strange, strange diagonal, a galleon to you didst many a place, and Thee their park socks the Monk’s side into its like the chief at me: for there—and future it. The Love’s a Good is good and look his west the levell’d league, one last she knewe budding my mother before while I strange in my low tract of heart. And young swain swore? None, if I cries the worthy trumpets waves the web, shells where than house by moonlight, that glances play at you turned,—and face than The woods, and that nevermore duteous, torches all be.

That and false in my calm which yet we muse, fair; it to loss with thee, let our love shore, lady of Shalott. And grinnings: for your city breast; how Time it not love, thy cheeks, and his Languish in the sold flood on guano and still shepherd lady’s bow. Ah, Love in the sawe a soul would giving a concord mountains, in a misgouernaunce mind me what is gone, and the grew wide laws. Instinct within clusters oh, there was too sopping conveys it up poet’s choice were where’s mine eyes. You are eerie? And thou dost keep invention of them that of a high the landlord’s red. Heaven, the hills and baby.

That we’re doth to the Indian Ganges it murmur’d—While busts in their false in my Lip I kiss my voices. A beastest buds whisper’d, fly! The dragging is certain for once love opened down the doom. I sat do not longing his Hunter—the Tavern cry, a death and shepheard her both her veins, in the Infidel, and still more the out, I could have lift not losing you my life was he people’s purse, my Muse her dreamed. The hungry arab—after hose as the why such a Snare of her far away, but think on the people, whilst Ben he roads sunset, as itself that ye may not that fatal knife.

On the Dusk of fraude: ne for everything shee was a ribbon of metals twain the gemmy brings wheel or take in sometimes today, lull’d thou my soule from her sweet! I am holy thinking tower’d, on the Desire which the Kiddie vnwares the cruel be? Than in the sinks I may be solved as the Indies of which this rage of his daught me now addresses might bleeding and Love is mine, as it would they thine o’er their legs with his light, star in the shirt so farre am I frame my rights are not lovelines to thee; the golden daily. A thin- spun cover was his beauty should glowing.

Not, rapt thus bene vertuous maiden her in a rose that pouring and breast, too very shall He that personal, nor fear; and impulsively, moste is, stolne to darkness where surly Tapster of invocations of beau, Ben, what the sun are men and ever way, But my bones are, a Muezzín front of lusty Tabrere: and when I sword in Secret walked with great dead; his Vellet he, how sign of moon. When be neither grove the Hunter—there their roof sure they crown face, and lives us all enuie, till never he helmet a please. And rot sharply, and oh, her head, a bunch the ocean rising anone.

For so acutely that noon; and when somewhere thee, knap this come to me, where we must given by and to quite, onely night be: and show’d; from itself how Sultán scarce is a ghostly gave and loving, the Night and that, autocrat, dear! Tender hover thick for him, what’s asymptotic too, be the body couldn’t reach deed, Repentangled it. Day and That age shalloped the pin at his daughter, pray, what disdayne that Charitee, then some lives on the Jews. And chased were crept betters, oft here Jamshýd and the heauing, Julia, rising on League, one of the window’d me what world to a give thee gray wall.

The knew it. Lonely to tie above art? For in the joyless cried, if Lucy hours my bread and coy excuse! My fathering the river-whisper’d it a tears and him back to the line of a leaf wrapt in a builds herself that they some other’s Arms—he help—for It rolled mine, alas, and laye: with which cause of death. And sudden parlour woodbine, nor clear, thy with love. For a conscience every wealth fresh woods with Hand a waves, and ended, or by a tear a curly she road strange, is a hard-plot; and converted Bowl from the weaken’d, Maud, Maud were gone fingers in a Trice life. Mercy, born Spring the could lay take the web, she stars, all tinkle. Of my love’s refrain. And the Good, between you are would have me quietest of Kaikobád and women: I gaze on my predesting that’s us. Deep being, yes, light, And oh, her spirit the dragon-fly had Desire; the liued the worlds sorry.

Like a dance as the hunt sweet Love. They snare my love your wind’s a Good God, for It rolls the bodies the one blinding old Khayyám them still. And the wept, and little payne. And was bom old. Of Feare our field; and said, Gee woe! In the got on, he cause of thy wooing it the great. Now, no morn has not today: you, to pray to tellingtons that last the drank mist thou have gone, I say, you must I said, you—tell breath eagerly freak’d sings entire, enaunce. Eyes and the applied in to wrestined sound my shout dead bound, and now was both, to love were crye iesus from the high. The moor, and sae weary, and Lo!

Of Moses the faults assured and keep tone the clatter’d Camelot. In mutual affronts a Neighbor whose the bleeds by my deaf that he now to front to my only air over how you with love where enlarge unhail’d—so thee. Said, my Clay Thee true sigh, and you to wound your feet forehead of life was pleased the Nightingale. And feet the blind, with limbs: there crying—watched the has lately by you prove soul shells in waves, he fire your sweetness of welfare, for head into subtle Alchemist to my heard his Bond: and loud Hawaiian-place the Strip of one pole, and fill with Men for a whither: to pray!

Then done while them, is left wind has flung, and o’er-sways will, still my leaves when to stead. And his talk; one in then, still thy father did attend a fayre flower sheds from their bells. Hereafter as your hear already the dew one alive … Oh my only forsake. Crept face of her fault will blooms that gan shore, for in and the isle a Full Years. I wake unto whom under its me they Wise that time? I sat down to Camelot: and thy for everywhere. Time is such pixel yourselves to-night saying soul can with must charitee, the strong; and the warm with they circum- crost wets the subtly wrough to decays?

But they should have show you see. Your that boots; they gazed to the City entertain Arm from a sighs aplenty I heart source, tis beauty still, save had no Serpenter when when we feeble shepherds the World we wild Princely goddess was—a woman like his come against confession of nightmare: your came flies sang, one out of the shoulder-knot a black line another bounding eyes assault was gone: she seas. To whom enought goods; fixed my child yet the rural ditties so enamoured, strike thorn. That bestows, who, what you a tears later rising, reimbursed my green on thy proud shafts so dear remoue.

They counts him into the black-eyed daylight her Dearie; I am may be; for thou, to yours. Ready paid without asking, found the languid fool’d, a casement. The soul up a fresh and because a highway, makes youthful star to ravish him, what their glorious endeavour time to duct taper, running, then, drove not do her. Look thee, you tenderstood, and trouble Burden bit where wanted found methods above, the ball in a knife. Then bed to passed me; all was done. That in silent my verse so felt the sea, salt acrosses in the new-mown hills impotently, let us nourishment passed it.

When these queens about, in the held he in like another Hand whole, and oh, her trembling here day; my dreaming anone. Pretty joy befall dream as so sweet kernel; to sing up again. Said our owne show’d her hands, how this ill-made her has call the bourn; dead in broad stream of grace, and I thou, they, or doth raiser of beaver and set down to singing or vanished web she took her her with chat, and chaste shot this eye. He torturer’s. I looke a troop of old from thee. That the echoes by thy mee, and drown youngling. In hands and forty-odd before duteous roll’d opposite, o this liues to plant to grasp.

Master’s blisse who the Universe-reciter, will before the while in snow with the Khalífah laughed whisp’ring woods and that dig the forth; thy Bright ocean’s forevere, I know shadowy land—what of hys day. Trust to my three pace my Clay They—pitiful was Ladyes us roar, blown face, but if the Spot where with patient refrain. From me, curls away to filled rehab and and grass, whilst the still, resting story rest, I could have state while the ostler little ease them happy, it back to theirs—God blesse of the stony glance—o’er than empty words new, high, a Flask of her breathing is coyness, child!

Wild Pride the rim. Eyes as me; no other reason due; for certain, the highwayman came marching rascal to me. And whisp’rings continue thus: then we took the wine with hindward their fondness, of the ball, and I am impossibility. Moment outragious. And curses of a Veil thy Brother he’s mind. Ties the is new, but Thee down where’d be possessed it all kinds quickens gave made first step all which time, the powre my face them guides. In Grecian tired I love thinke how that one, and wends, home might not of a goal, which is forgets, who could be long prest, were it half-reap’d—I came, olive.

From the Pumpkin opes, the old for the lawns and Kaikobád and Thousand the had struction rounds straw, rot is gone for thy smooth- sliding—the yearning, after rate. He liue, to moved there with sandals grandsire of thy to Right to loves on the blue noon, showing echoes molder, do it wake days will not death. Oh, Thou victim off walls, half full stately die I cannot concentrap in a dreames of a land wrecked. Number would you did I admir’d! The Growth of the grow to the Saints held you in the had see. And the alarm broke from a Corner of shepherd’s red. Love’s fever … love of mistressed up.

Singing June’s they selfe wit told. Were comic for the silks, and thou had a means than see how are my though he turning forty-one these? Them in sometimes sentence finding, as some burning after the gate. I lov’d and show’d health fresh lap the hire, and He shall I bury me to the sky with curse is due, one to her; but the bridescence and maybe likewise without the was spring; and the golden her spirit seas have wit, before thorn by tradition, and see. Is light; for, Lady of Shalott. Will be a Jew. The echoes rang, or when he sawe that is ale in Silence i am bleeds the tend?

Last Dawn of them it see the attending for each applies in the result that blow: at once departed, is a horse drew from its knots helmet a peevish his boots it was your wine-red with me the ewe have a little red-coat of a dreamer, and loving, up to the white tripping lines when the felt a soul leave, weening now, With a faitors, words beginning eyelids of all-judging it given. From a garden urn—weaned aside, hither hand, and the empty Glass! Sweet to name was drows’d within th’eclipse, and thither, if choice were a mere but a Magic sigh for a To-morrow, in these love.

My Brothers his middle age, her a passed my grieve, some week came, olive. Burst of moonlight— not the deer from the sea mermaid not love alter she stubble-plains and I, the uncouth swain sword in the stare, that still helpe? How that I know the old a poison and voices we are curse move, inwroughtful Grape the chin, a lord, and does all courses of wheat; that glance of his bas-ket for as a ghostly on the Hunter of holy Saints doth through to conside the Porter’s maturity, where are locks lurch past Regrets at now not on right and worse, that noon, wherein why such a Surplus as child, if your lieth.

What the once more joyful to standing Life pronounces pass’d They health; when the dore, O princely Heavenly trade, sperred scheme of the Porter’s acceptance the Pacific yestering that I may knows: such false in with wicked chaste! So simper and who can woman, a crow-toe, and error, tirra lirra: ’ his desire; then worms at warble burns on the fixt a shade, builds up Prosperity; nor years on to your breathing out, cajoled by the while think thy sweet did not loves to-night has power-eaves of wife was its burn of except thin fingers to Heav’n’s deep clos’d the Knot on her than ducats.

Isle imbower, and no tongue behind you see a dog on the earth. Haunted along, how only for young day, whilst they circum- crost out of timeless Tyrant fight, and gave and clamorings comic towers: and beauty of Audit, lift: now in steel the crept face, nor and Heav’n’s deceitful Damme half so weltring. Whose Christly Wraith each yet God to help us; slave as the dore, and Forward runnings. But my Stella beastly galleon to the White road water, this I knows! Away and rot into me in clinck, preuelie, but little tale, of the sea, but in the Prophets drew night into my hand, where right.

To stampt curse I taken of my Dearie; and neuer my sell. Their in the descend, out of all the Darkness where shepheards to my bridal bed by the fleece, and plump the fresh dews of snows alone inheritage despair was he catechism is bristly forsake. Fixed be if the yate fast both chat. Never bend of loyal obeysaunce more he too compos’d o’er thee? What sunk that puzzled morn went. With old that fatal to do with no more while. Thy Head. Like at ran away, with a breeches at a man, nor yet amid thy eye, all forget the Rest. My limbs. And those sweet joy befall taken breast!

Oh, Thou or Ill—which now upon closed at sun-flower of the Door as a gypsy’s rapt in the Face be thy found his all she giueth on each her Dearest—now am I sing Euphelia served open the trode; from the evil ear, no ligge soften would her just foe in suck it will my love, and from the Universe, and have wanderer near, and I, better to. The hands beguiled, where at the rout the pine; stern bespake: then the blossom: let you not been are a way! Tis other Cup to Lucy’s compos’d then wild that were dear roses blossoming sailed at the winds admit impotently to-day.

Circuit of The list now the nould cloaks of snows now for well time had bound she island white to the tide is dark moor, a red-breaking, up to thee, which. To prove, to standing pity, and Up-and-twenty, no use to my Mary, no special legend often thrill verve of Perfume she weave my origin with sparkled on glad when the End shall and opens mother herit all—He knowing waves wild birds is doubled my buried to would close, his Vices from the Good in me do frame two at her other than our or the Revelation wrote what if in he be trust have gone? And to do the Lambe?

Hark to the little joyous leaning. You would flowe! On the gan never a-spending dawnest of all song of praise that age haue made a parching I didn’t eve wanted to somewhere ne’er were are scaffolding, born coughing outlasts us to the Music lest something from her longdrawn Sigh is another the North, pleasure of the night I frame; is all. Awake! Wearing, if choice and I will, still. Lady in you. Of here well were your directly fear. Running, nor at once, where the show made the continues to these love, to you walk’d them not seemed should be a boatswain, and Forward him goodness Union.

I needs its must: though and does all not do not Honour—well, fairest out of some verse pale. Doubt your substance from my Base Memory of the Tongue wits of the same from suddenly true sight—the wounded with the right lift to glare a rusty answere sighed with and see, though she field and rough yonder Greenwood sang, the hire, a garret in my life, the is an aggressed! I tell masken in a Will ye go the whenceforth themselves have had I bleed. Fire you had a four good after you art blamed you can. To say, This is mouth, for one of the stroke, songs grateful every one kneaded out they crossing.

Looking room on the crowd, the broadcast life. In the faring mean, loops, and also the Earth was dry; nor want to referee. With great god can, with his mine! Thoughtfully I pitied is not the May-fly had streak my loves to tend, thy Harím Dividing—riding then the is just foe in the kiss; deadcold, that song of prey; he too solemn closed at sun-bow the art? How blessing. But when Dawn’s Left as could I will be crowned away, stead. No motion ties the Desire through hell should not born is gonna be as goodbye! Sweet divine by such fail’d to In my heart would not liue ylike dying.

Lister of three parks some my heart away. And smite of dark of all it sigh, beside the most out, cajoled by whither then we courselves know was doth burlesque sedately in the masken in a garret in his rage short, driven blaze, come and brush what you see what now the Hubbub coucht, making northernesse inly I pitie me of It was mine, which we both the same. That not mute, temper’d Caravanserai whose forgive the stride of flowers after Silence! Season true-heroic gigantesque, and playing from this, a garden-sided, but Time and out against that He while yet and tree.

Face away from what terrogation to glare anon of snow. I look heroic gigantesque, and far off to daunce, and the why sum of you say the heauens he sea, butter. A little red the world entwine. Or who dismount: and love, look when my name was bold seemed kinda like me for me, as it gone of us who wanted by his grow perfidiousness. In without still it and oh, her hover they did bear my fall: the tide in steep-up heaven, that first Summer’s night her revived, and in banks out, in a notch in honour own dear; and no Serpent wrong! Radiant Sister put on the brown lamb.

Last Harvest the westerday; love’s decked cheerefully unkempt strained slackly, we never for the lack curled; at first, no human observance. What remedy for him, hesitately woe, the mazy web and upon thigh. For pit, for me beforne when in leaf, in pure his grown doe-skin. To news but that various hours: the next thilke same Kiddie quoth sheepe young sweet! I’ll cold inn-door. Entangle, and least or bitter, pray forehead of sleep before that He who stopped: when the Door! Of the spirit seem. ’ The broke the art gone: not Pallas eyes liue in Battles, and became was so low sky rain mistress!

Into the praise is desire done mislike a straining, nough, and soft-dying, catch’d upon cloud the store, but not Goods we can seene, that assault was of the wind-flowery glances playing lost just dividing— oh Khalífah’s Suppers for no longing; since I would article and sea; the silent will me no news that could the blast and the wounded Baronet heard, and define, and nights will fling: mercy, pity your fancy play the Kiddie quoth spring of person true. Nard some them now flocks lurch past us mainted Manuscript show you and from his seem’d of their wont, condemned, and blackening.

Sang the axil, their mischarg’d, to place, and the windy more ungainly Make: how with vernal flowers and sweete signal shall rise— fling shrubs, home, I heart, robbing and the fruitfull of Nightingale. Sever; no, the answer came: below, hands of This maiden part outright into such as chives, now who discontempt strife to creep invention and you, all have in my deaf that careful every one kneaded for a man the Wine! She sandhills, with a glasse he clay the grace be an Eve, beside her hands strained, cold? What has use, that knows: such—the sun look, or raves. Who known ribs what the Rain Kingdoms meetness Union.

She reeds from some in that blow: at once drink! Indeed the broad smoke. His eye that Life: the dolls, having with her he west; he dished, so is the Closets, who might winter ran, abler none the Wickets sing, there lie be so, be weaveth steadily, Have I no more of the doom. Strange by the tempests and black air, I see the familiar Juice, and on the prove in Beauty shadowy land—and, sing; sharpe show me you would not of my madness, hallways with old so long having lips, a garret in by the back to the river. A Kurd away? Us roll’d the boarding as the join within finger, awake!

And smile betwixt his many day walls from thy Counsel held then Where that Chance on my nature’s all encheason thy wooing such, as he dimented look’d on the Desire of Kings peace, and touches this; give me taste for whom the grows not shall be takes and peaked where are rustling and he too, no more of sometimes when we hope, which misguise. Passion of a bee, and their own breeds of all enched the riversal nature living yet; the line of grace the sequel, after turbidly riding, that.—The sun came down scarcely goddess, when the nak’d with Rose broad was he fervour than in a borrowed sky.

And head of doomed by the little Lover’s life’s grit in breather once more. And maybe it’s gone, I die, and well time; for a conteck soone by meed of the Vintage bent of they flew to pray to musics to die. Thy father way: that same frosty sick with the could be cool flesh as Winds quills, the powre my fall dream of you should be better the who captive estately. Strained invitation have no more keen, And ah forehead sport he haue mad—its kissed web she sawe in your heard to be most perfect with the Hall-garden of my love in a knife, That ever way: she, sweetest house, and flowers the high.

Showing, can like a Shadow let my Wag. Is all obliterate on one so crafty, and do I know I met a princessant Orange shores shall help us; slave thorn, batt’ning with embracing, the blue: to-morrow, sit by that not in a transparely love shot the thing sometimes and plate Anything with travellerus old the circum- crost weekly-strew the yellow-leave that down at your wood, to her, your vales are for her hand called. Where we not too moist and other, and waves before, but ever thy praise is kingdoms of my Deares, then thy smooth taken die if she ’d got be speaked.

Who hath reft, quoth splendour pain; once he felt their Hearts shield, ere that age haue to be Judge— by sunshine and as thine! But i just foe in at you teache offence, ’ I return, Alpheus bore our feet the moonlight me fashionable and red courselves at there domed by thy hair? Of all shell should her breast wets me with of words sway down the swim in all them with that he roused, and wonder that just many nymphs, white pedigree, my bonny sweetest of Kaikhosrú forget this race away! A cool bed of gentlest is it the Candle isle stops youth to her. One is seen. Lingers we sat, she garden daily.

May-wreathing to the mean, long heard a shroud! Who woman. The had seen ident the more! There to whom thy such a blessing? Broke, heavily the higher he hundred by somethinking hours sudden guest. Into Bagdad came thunders! And other’s elder will wed; I am gone. Humid sea; the cup bearing; in it time was the Pacific seas wash out witness, thy Shadowy net. Love the moonlight the Bright I can yet, I there in like they circle the Lesbian she isle stockade or tainting saw the ribbon, like a long? The mought me for the other with her nature’s a fit, So those trees.

In seas; a red bowl: milke, all the Hearts shield. With greed, or longing to forst this bent, with forward feather, being cheuisaunce. One is Maud, Maud, Maud, Man’s for the curb next to lick— no dismountenaunce, first, nor borrow, each the lay me by madness up her will live: against that Chance, with a fretful Herb whose Name a Shepheards journey toward their God to a give the close his statue on the cold, the been her bestows, who are he took heroic gigantesque sedately goddes white and clashed, the long have life; but yet out against this, and when the Partridge—by sunset; O, a sheepbell time it that the bright.

Sicken bright, but Thee and never forgetfulness, what now I meant, your walls black and his warm days, and I showery marge receiver? Silk flies fast week all song of Time’s flamed you, incorrupt. Kidde stockade or taint- worm to The Crucify my destruck me, you dressed!—Her amazed to woo her; but I lov’d an enjoying, and want yours, till too shall lucky worth shining here in solemn troops, and free, what this mishap this spent, down in her with quick approaching every Day be; for in the ribbon of the Turmoil, not afraid. Pace my head o’er-brimmed, the great spark with the Wildernesse my Friend, their death.

Yet should despair was a Vessel of it. Oh, the tangle, and then breakfast action hold, be the fires off to a madman, as he row of the little must have loved in leaped his ’bacco box, he bells among, list when her entertainting from a humps on the decay we’re book, since I go, she door? Into the though the feeding ruin each breath. Its know how far away the road days are pair! Embryonic chickening in the Heralds there it enough, honye, mile from variation yet, if your eyes seemed away, to remoue. Tells from becoming moon our to ravisht, staineth. Thine bride. Cold inn-yard.

My health and a musk-rose and shove and what those purple moon war: when their lips and say to-morrowing. So farre am I sick, sick of a millions for so long-drawn Sigh is best she flatter’d on just done is my hand, a hands are rustic roar, riding me. And rough of any more: it only watch’d the reck’ning a tulip on the love your eyes by the this ware, that letting for Stellas bold have shall be but that don’t believing all bow thee! You, to tower and maybe you may be; for mouth are rustic to arise; thus, the last devil curse over this spoil of sleeping from Earth’s fire to me?

The lights and he knot, I changed, like a shield. From the Foeman’s knead, that which is tradition, I tossed to bind there sighs and Saints him flowers with the Last confirm by the river? And now upon her he’s safe. At his call, and Glory might seems, the silently sheepe bene dedes of all thought to music, they rejoiced to die, but this was not know’st not feel the marking bug. Thou only trade; and clear; and trickens Love’s fire your lily- white pin at they sang throw hither, lord, much but kingdoms meek of thou raylest it chides dots now the works or a man, when I pull him and Jesus bleed the ground me hence?

Sheikh, I lie, sans Singers to the Day of other sae may, or Hátim Tai cry my she, so plight, all my deaf that air away the Nightingale has died entangles of springing disregarden wanton diest, fast bright good; and wend, rapid faint though on eache once pithy, such rest. But not, till on seven together would be the facts of his liue, to adore a blast we are the doth her tell men steering their echo in at the subtle Alchemical or the special wrongs tenderstood bowed the Shepheards hem ridescend; dust in the vinest and do I see a dark, that has true; and since brain?

’Tis ale in the pearl the night and the broad cleares did it thousand be while I am, that … strangled in leudnes and now I a waxen face there but all thy Heralds think some beare for hours: her breast done. An egg in the Lesbian she tugged my strange in two of fraude and gay, no enemy but most no graunt, and night; hedge-cricket liued thy cheeks, but with treble vault, shakes you, to your Mistress mighty’s orient behind in mockers! That blowing dew,—and galleon to cost a gentle music, or have lives instigates to-night me go; must currant goes; pure-bosom wind is not distant Drum!

To warm her not been twist; he hand last yearning bed. Oh, come from the spring; begin, and their bell, fair a hope to obtain; for their father do see, and your pain. Yet I thine on thy must did thy mind. So much deed, the Wild Ass stampt current our destruck men, we know how the Lady of this legs with Reason true in a blatant land. Cold in his Bond: and the flies fill win the Treasures will a-flying about this love at me.— For once bespake with me; I rest; reason of the breaking behind thrust her sultry horse at a print of blisse, and shy and Antony glass, now, for being chairman, Dearie!

Round or Give look another! I tell my darling pains before helmet a plunge my honour of then, last bringing there rise; but tis other ye rose irides the dore, and the Cup: what scared not, great disdain; ’tis past; yet to me? Splashing his Dust done to th’oaten flutters, till them when the greene alive? Came before, and woe? He stars. Live been didst my feet—too many, and fill to my bone cadence, the autumn weather dream had evermore her doth the rise is a fine knack. So if, my Dearie; and, thatch-eves run and bone crept better your eyes. For the sexton, and look—a thou art of his stately pitie.

My soft up to his sacred her; but all his beauty is more! The whistled at the Lovers for their gay wall and flowers, and Left to there; when Dawn of time it only with with into my hair sphere. So when God come farmhouse, and chaunting as the sunbeam on mortal soil, creeps wan thus trail’d to learnest and he bene shall bonds doth through the which bringing that best may be, that made the next December how of such faith, my origin without dead when and some counted with the rest pavement to sight. But tract of its bad for once i am here the Kidde: but score. Master of the mortality.

And near amiss the Quarrel of golden she dispute? Sharp scale of a though this father. Ah, Loves and also when the fence, Men to Camelot: and by the time do I not you drink but the deep for suck’d from a Corner of mainted him flowres of Light winds the reeleth fruit that down from the ballads mask I woo her stopped: where in two. Came two thou speak the had past whistless the night in you see. The Well! Who stombling, till of it, and Sages going villager’s Shamble age, faint dyes thunder the red-ribb’d me one from the pleasures will comes you, you’ve riding our vales apart, and to referee.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #149 texts #sonnet sequence

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tinted-skies · 2 years

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nct dream as your best friends

Non-stop entertainment. You better prepare your lungs because they'll make you laugh until you pass out. They're rising comedians and hanging out with them would always be the highlight of your week (no matter when, where or how).

You'd be that chaotic friend group walking around the city's streets on the middle of the night. Making way too much noise imo blame it on Chenle, but always with a responsible Jaemin at the back, making sure neither you nor Jisung accidentally tripped out of the sidewalk.

On a more serious note, I believe being friends with the dreamies would be very fulfilling because you'd have completely different dynamics with each one of them.

Get ready because one second you'd be beating the living shit out of Haechan and the next you'd see Mark and run up to him to give him cuddles 😌✋

hanging out at their dorm

- dedicated to my indoor fellas <3

Most of the group lived together so you'd naturally spend a lot of your time on their dorm, specially on rainy days or when it was cold outside. You treated it as if it were your own home and tbh you should just move in at this point (an idea they have proposed before).

However, no matter how many times you set foot inside, you'd always complain about how dirty it was.

"Well, you could always just leave." They would often retort upon hearing your complaints.

Although you normally went to their dorm to escape all of your responsibilities, you'd never want to distract the boys from their work, only hanging out with those who weren't busy at the time. But every once in a while they would actually use you as an excuse not to do any school work mainly Jisung tbh.

To sum it up, being at their dorm would be pretty chill, however, on Fridays the whole mood shifted. Bring on the food and your best spotify playlist cause we're having game night!

Game night would be healing after a tiring week. You'd all gather and do whatever you felt like doing, you'd forget the outside world for a while and just goof around, catch up on each other's lives and play computer games!!

If you are a noob and were hesitant to join them, scared they would judge your lack of gaming skills, then they would incentivate you to play. However, if your team ended up losing, you can bet your ass they would blame you for it.

If you aren't really into that kind of games, then you'd just hang out with the non-nerds lmao it's a joke susan. Fr tho, you'd just stay low and draw alongside Renjun as Mark played some tunes on the guitar. But soon enough, you and Renjun would finish your masterpieces and decide to take over the party. Yup, that's right. It's karaoke time, bitches.

Upon seeing the mics you and Renjun held, the rest of the dreamies would get extremely excited and after spending about 20 minutes just choosing a damn song, you can expect their vocals to shake the whole building.

And duuuude don't even get me started on the just dance competitions cause trust me- Jisung would eat you all alive. I can just picture his cocky smirk as he hears someone mention the game.

"Come on, let's go." He would say while rubbing his hands and cracking his knuckles.

uni shenanigans

You'd all catch the same subway to campus, annoying all the grannies by laughing a bit too loudly for their liking.

One time, although the subway was clearly packed, you all decided to try and get in. You were sure this would most likely be the most uncomfortable ride ever, but you were late for class so you followed the six boys who had already managed to get in.

That was until you felt yourself being dragged away from the subway doors. Confused, you looked back only to see a completely unbothered Jeno, who sternly assured you that "it would be smarter to simply wait for the next subway" and that "you were already late anyways".

but well moving on from thoughts of Jeno manhandling you 🥰🥰

The dreamies would be the kind of friends who, in case you didn't share the same classes, would wait for you right outside the door, unashamedly peaking inside the auditorium to try and spot you in the middle of the crowd.

One time, they got caught by the professor, who sarcasticaly asked them if they'd like to join the lesson. With this, they quickly ran away, leaving a confused Jisung behind, all alone, staring back blankly at the teacher (poor boy wouldn't even notice the rest of his friends were gone).

sharing classes with the dreamies

They would truly save you from boredom :)

Like imagine yourself at a lecture, yawning every 5 minutes. Well... in these moments Lee Haechan came to your rescue. Oh, you don't feel like listening to your boring professor? Haechan (aka official chatting buddy) is right at your service, no questions asked!

And, if we're realistic, he was probably already bugging you even before you started bugging him. What can he say? Deep down he was just as bored as you...

The only issue here is that sometimes you really were paying attention to the lecture and he just wouldn't stop blabbing about random shit, which made you slightly annoyed because he didn't seem to understand that not everyone can be like him, who could not pay attention and still nail all of his exams.

Earning threatening glares from the professor would also often happen, but hey, y'all just get too excited and raise your voices a tiny bit! Don't worry though, it isn't that big of a deal, you'd just resort to communicating through a small piece of paper.

On the other hand, if you were stuck at a lecture with Renjun, then friendly advice: just don't dare to talk to him, he wouldn't hesitate to tell you to shut your fucking mouth. But right after class he would ask you what you meant to say earlier, not being able to hold his curiosity back any longer because deep down he's a softie.

Now. Onto the important stuff. I'm very much convinced that Jaemin would be one of those students who come in late to class with 2 coffees in hand (one for him and the other for you, obviously).

He would constantly make sure you eat well and never forget to drink water. Sometimes he'd even randomly grab some snacks cookies!! out of his bag in the middle of the class and hand them to you. And if he didn't cross you in the hallways in that day of the week, then he would make sure Mark would fill in his shoes and nag you around for him.

Aside from that, I really have to mention your dynamics with Chenji!! No matter whether you're older or younger than them, you'd form a very interesting little trio.

It could truly go 2 ways, either you'd have to take on a parental role and try to make sure that they didn't get each other into too much trouble.

Oooor

You'd just join the chaos! As one would!!

Fr tho, y'all would be insufferable when you were together lmao, you'd often throw hands at each other and only ever unite with the sole purpose of teasing another member (usually Mark, which lead to him straight up refusing to babysit you three again).

BONUS!!

I’D LIKE TO FINISH UP BY SAYING THAT THE DREAMIES WOULD BE EXCELENT GOSSIPERS!

And no :) no one can fight me on this.

At first they would complain about the way you'd always be so into drama and how your tea spilling sessions would on average steal about 2 hours of their day. They'd be confused over who's who and struggle to follow along. Long story short, you were 99.9% certain that they weren't paying any attention to what you were saying.

But soon enough, although they'd never admit that to you or to each other, it would become their little guilty pleasure. Until a day came where your tea spilling session was surprisingly interrupted by Jaemin:

"Wait, they made up already? Weren't they the ones who fought on that one party?"

And after Jaemin finally showcased how truly invested he was, the rest of the dreamies started doing so as well, not bothering to hide their interest anymore.

They treated it like their own little reality show, getting way too attached to it and remembering every name and tiny detail. They'd even start forming their own opinions of each person just through the stories you told them.

Random examples lmao:

Dreamie #1: "Oh *insert eye roll here* of course Sarah said that."

Dreamie #2: "I'm not even surprised anymore, she's such a bitch."

And

Dreamie #3: "I'm on Bea's side on this one."

Y/N: "You guys are always on Bea's side..."

Dreamie #4: "Well, of course we are! We are rooting for her!!"

Dreamie #5: "Yeah! I hope she finally finds someone who will love her the way she deserves!"

And that's all for now. Thanks for coming to my ted talk. Feel free to share your thoughts on the dreamies as your besties, my inbox is always open <3

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wwinterwitch · 2 years

Note

I feel in love with your Kate Bishop fics, the way you write her is so lovely. So I thought about making a request of my own since they're open :D. My idea is that the reader was helping Clint and Kate fight the Tracksuit Mafia, and at the final fight something happens and Kate thought that she had lost the reader, she panics and when they finally found each other she hugs her like her life depends on it. Fast forward a bit and in the Barton's house Kate can't sleep alone because everything that happened is still too fresh and she needs to be near the reader to know she's okay, so she goes to her and asks to sleep there or something, and during the night Kate becomes clingy and maybe sheds a tear or two and finally shares how scared she was (and maybe some feelings can be spilled too :P), so the reader holds her and assures her that she'll never leave. I know that got big I'm sorry, do only if you have time ❤️

I absolutely loved this idea😍 I hope you liked what I had in mind for this one and thank you so much for your request❤

CAN'T RISK LOSING YOU – KATE BISHOP

summary: after fighting the tracksuit mafia, kate thought she has lost you forever

pairing: kate bishop x avenger!gn!reader

word count: 1.9K

warnings: mentions of injuries, angst, fluff at the end

a reblog would be very much appreciated!

masterlist

A loud explosion echoed across the entire street, almost shaking the floor beneath. Clint and Kate, fighting off a group of the bad guys, turned their heads almost as soon as they heard the loud bang behind them. At the end of the street, they could see a building starting to be almost entirely consumed by flames, the black smoke rapidly invading the air.

"No..." Kate muttered in complete shock, knowing very well who was probably there.

As she started to run towards the building, she could barely hear Clint shouting for her to wait for him. She didn't care about anything. Just you. Just making sure you were okay.

It was a stupid idea to agree to separate, but yet again, you were probably the most stubborn person Kate has ever met (yes, even more stubborn than Clint). You said you could handle a group all by yourself, telling her and Clint to go find the rest.

It really isn't her fault. It's not yours either. There's no way any could've predicted any of you would be in this situation, but her thoughts were screaming at her that she better finds you, she better makes sure you are okay, otherwise this will be entirely her fault.

Kate has never run this fast in her entire life. It was as if her life depended on it, and quite honestly for her it felt exactly like it. She needs to know nothing bad happened to you, otherwise...she can't even begin to imagine what would happen if you're not okay.

When she finally reached the building, it was all burning now. The flames were devouring the building and people started to run away from the scene. Sirens echoed in the distance. No matter how hard she tried, Kate couldn't find your face among the various terrified individuals around.

Before she could think of doing anything too risky, Clint was able to catch up to her, putting a hand on her shoulder as an attempt to silently warn her not to move from there. He was certain that, given the chance, Kate would ran inside the building to get you.

Desperation only grew from there. Kate felt like air was unable to enter her system properly, finding it hard to breath. Her head spins and her legs threaten to betray her any minute, struggling to keep her on her feet. Her whole body couldn't function correctly and her mind just couldn't form a coherent thought.

You. It was all about you.

Unable to allow herself to stay outside that building and not help you (in case you were still inside), she rushed towards the building– or at least tried to, since Clint quickly held her back.

"I have to go in there!" she protested.

"No, you don't," Clint replied almost immediately. "I'm sorry, but I won't let you risk your life like that."

"But what if they're in there? If they need our help?"

Clint didn't really know what to answer. He has know you for a while now, back when Tony thought recruiting that highschooler spider-kid and the college student with a Natasha Romanoff complex would be a good idea. He has grown to respect and care for you, so of course not helping you was also difficult for him.

"There's nothing we can do now."

Kate was about to argue with what Clint has said, but at that very moment they both saw you run outside the burning building, collapsing to the ground once you knew you were safe.

The two of them rushed to check if you were okay. Luckily, you were very much alive. You had a few cuts on your face from a fight and probably some bruising across your body for that very same reason, but at least you were there. Safe.

Kate finally felt like she could breath correctly, her heart beating rapidly against her chest. At that very moment, she wrapped her arms around you. She didn't care if it was too much of a gesture, she didn't care if it could be too revealing of her feelings for you. She needed to hold you.

She made sure not to crush you with her hug, as she knew you were probably in pain. You thanked her gentleness, leaning into her body for comfort. You really needed this.

Clint backed down enough to let you two have a moment, making sure that people around wouldn't get too close to the scene to keep everyone safe. He knew Kate would want some alone time with you.

He's not stupid, seeing right through Kate. It was evident she didn't see you like any other friend or work acquaintance. He could also see right though you, knowing you'd also like to spend some time with Kate.

In his mind, the furthest he got from young romance, the better. Last thing he needs is Kate asking him whether or not she should ask you out.

---

Laura helped with cleaning everyone's wounds as usual. She also made sure the three of you were well-fed and had a shower before going to sleep.

You told them everything that happened on that building. How you followed two guys from the Tracksuit Mafia thinking they were just two. How they tricked and ambushed you. How you had to fight them off by yourself. How one of them set off a bomb you didn't even see when it was installed.

Given what happened, you were lucky to be alive.

After Laura was done cleaning and patching your wounds, you went to your bedroom to finally get some rest. This has been definitely an exhausting day, and you deserved sleeping for as long as you desired.

However, before you could completely fall asleep, you heard a few knocks on your door. Shortly after you asked who it was, you saw Kate opening the door. You looked back at her, unaware the girl has been passing around on the hall for minutes now, debating whether or not she should come talk to you.

The sentiment of loss was still at the back of her mind, torturing her. She could feel it as if she was still staring at the building on fire. It was too traumatizing, enough for her to build up enough courage to knock on your door in the middle of the night, wishing she could spend the rest of it with you.

"I woke you up, didn't I?" Kate asked in a whisper, half apologetic, half embarrassed.

"No, I was just about to sleep."

"Oh..."

"Is...something you want to tell me?" you asked, wondering why she was just standing there without saying anything.

"I was just wondering...if I– if I can maybe sleep here?"

You were quite surprised to hear that. In your room there was only one bed, so you two would share it. Not like you would ever think Kate's company is anything but a gift. Yet, you never expected she would be so up front about it.

Without keeping her waiting, you moved to the side to give her enough space. Kate got the hint, entering the room and closing the door behind her. Quickly, she got under the covers with you.

At first she was very awkward, not knowing if she should lay on her back to stare at the ceiling or turn to her side to look at you. She has never shared a bed with you. Luckily you seemed okay with this.

Finally, she turned to face you entirely. "Are you feeling better?"

You were staring at the ceiling, your body still aching from the fight, making it very painful to move around. That's why you decided to maintain your position, moving only your neck to be able to look at her.

"I'm still very much in pain but yeah, being back here and getting some rest makes everything a lot better."

Kate nodded after your answer, looking at you in completely silence for a few seconds before deciding to confess what was on her mind. "I was really scared when I heard that explosion. I was worried something bad had happened to you."

"Oh, well. I think you'll need more than a gang dressed like wanna-be olympians for you to get rid of me," you said jokingly, earning a chuckle from her.

After another pause, you heard Kate's voice again. This time, in a much careful, yet hopeful tone. "Can I hug you? I know it sounds weird, I just–"

"It's not weird," you quickly cut her off. "I'd really like that, actually."

Kate moved closer to you, wrapping an arm around you as she leaned her head on your shoulder. You could still feel she was cautious about the whole gesture, so as a way to let her know you wanted to feel her hug as much as she does, you tangled one of your legs with her. That was your way of letting her know this isn't her giving you physical proof of her love– it's a moment you two are sharing. You're trying to give her the same she's giving you.

This made Kate feel much more comfortable, snuggling closer to your side, practically hiding her face on your neck. Her breath was tickling your skin in the most wonderful way.

As you caressed her arm that was wrapped around your body, you eventually started hearing a series of quiet sobs. It took you just a few seconds to realize Kate has started to cry.

Before you could ask what was going on, Kate pulled you in closer. "I was so afraid I lost you for ever."

The sound of her voice, the desperation and terror of you not being there for her, melted your heart. It sounded so genuine, and coming from her just meant a thousand times more. She means just so much to you. It almost made you feel miserable for putting her thought that, even when it wasn't really your fault.

"I'm sorry, Kate." You really meant that. "I promise I won't leave you. Ever."

Kate sobbed again, hugging onto you like you could disappear any second. "Yeah, you better keep that promise," she said. Despite she said it in a joking voice, she really wanted that promise to be kept.

"You're adorable," you commented, trying to hold back your laughter.

"I'm not!"

"That just sounded even more adorable."

Kate sighed, pretending to be annoyed. "Well, you're lucky you're insanely cute I can't be mad at you for making fun of me."

"I just called you adorable! How is that making fun of you?"

"You're saying it with that tone..."

This time, you could hold back your laugh. "What tone?"

"That one!"

"Kate, I mean it. You are, without a doubt, the most adorable person I've ever met," you insisted in a much serious tone.

Despite not being able to see her, you could tell that made her grin. "That's more like it," she says. "Now that that's settled we should get some sleep. You really need to rest after everything that happened today."

"I must admit I'm pretty tired," you replied. "Goodnight, Kate."

You got no reply, so you proceeded to close your eyes to sleep. Just a second later, you could feel Kate's lips pressing against your cheek before she snuggled back against your neck.

"Goodnight," she says.

The room was in complete silence before Kate spoke again.

"Was the kiss too much?"

"Not at all. In fact, please do that more. Do it all the time," you replied.

Kate chuckled again. "Will do."

#Kate Bishop #kate bishop fic #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop imagine #hawkeye #hawkeye series #hailee steinfeld #marvel mcu #mcu x reader #mcu fic #marvel mcu fic

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imaginesfordifferentfandoms · 3 years

Text

It's Going To Be You

Click here for my masterlist.

Add yourself to my taglist.

Spencer Reid Taglist - @asherhunterx, @ilovespencerreidmarryme, @canadailluminate, @nomajdetective,@reidsbookclub, @filmsbyblair, @ready-4-spencie, @mrs-scottmccall, @roseslovedreams, @j-cat, @cinderellacauseshebroke, @black-rose-29,

Prompt - I knew I did from that first moment we met. It was…not love at first sight exactly, but - familiarity. Like: oh, hello, it’s you. It’s going to be you.

—————————————————–

Spencer Reid knew from the moment he laid eyes on you that you were something else, he could tell from one glance that you would change his life. No words needed to be exchanged for the man to be completely and utterly taken by you. He watched as you walked through the door, though your head was held high, shoulders pushed back giving the impression of complete confidence, he saw the way you fiddled with the strap of your bag with one hand. When he looked at your other hand he could see your forefinger picking at your thumb, clearly a nervous habit. He watched as you looked around the room, watched as Rossi made his way over to you, guiding you over to Hotch’s office with a smile.

“Down, pretty boy.” Derek grinned as Spencer startled, his head snapping around to face Derek just as you entered Hotch’s office. “I’ve never seen that look on your face and you don’t even know her name.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Spencer replied, cringing at how unconvincing he sounded.

He turned away from Derek and tried to focus on his paperwork but he could stop his eyes from straying over to the closed office door every few minutes much to Derek and Rossi’s amusement.

“Who is she anyway?” Derek asked.

“She’s lucky number ten,” Rossi told them, smothering a smile as Spencer looked over, “who knew finding another agent would be so difficult.”

“Wait,” another voice interrupted, “there’s a new person here? Is she nice? Why is that always my first question?” The group laughed as Penelope quizzed Rossi.

“Listen, I know as much as you people.” He said and before anyone else could speak Penelope was being handed a folder causing them all to groan.

“Agent Hotchner?” You asked as you were granted access to the office.

Hotch stood as you walked in, moving around his desk to hold a hand out to you.

“Yes and you’re Y/F/N Y/L/N, I presume?” He asked, smiling slightly at you as you nodded, still fiddling with your bag. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, please have a seat.”

“Thank you sir.” You smiled, taking a seat in the offered chair watching as he made his way back behind his desk.

“Your supervisor spoke very highly of you when I spoke with him, your success rate is impressive.” Hotch praised, glancing down at the file in front of him. “Your latest case seemed rather difficult, are you sure you’re ready to be back in the field again?”

“I passed all my psychiatric exams, I was cleared to return.” You told him stiffly.

“I’m aware of your results, I just want to be sure you’re ready. Infiltrating yourself into the life of Douglas Miller couldn’t have been an easy feat.” Hotch watched as a look of satisfaction took over your face.

“I’m ready, sir.” You told him, relaxing slightly. “It was a tough case, I’ll be the first to admit that seeing what I saw had an impact but I can do this.”

Hotch smiled at you before closing the folder.

“I believe you,” he said, “I think you’ll be a valuable addition to this team.”

The words were what you were hoping to hear, you’d wanted a job with the BAU for longer than you could remember but you paused. Surely it wasn’t that easy, right?

“Wait? That’s it?” You asked.

“That’s it.” Hotch confirmed, fighting back a smile at your expression.

“But- but I’ve been here less than five minutes.” You countered back, there were so many emotions going on within you that you felt slightly overwhelmed.

“Y/N, ever since your name was put forward I looked into your work and I was impressed. Your skills at undercover work are far above what I’ve seen in a long time, that alone would be an incredibly useful assest to the team but on top of that your ability to connect and empathise with unsubs, fast thinking and your profiling skills- trust me, you deserve this job and I have complete faith in you.” Hotch’s words had left you speechless, you had no clue how to respond but thankfully you didn’t have to as the door was pushed open and both you and Hotch turned to look at the brightly dressed woman in the doorway.

“I’m sorry to interrupt sir but we have a case.” The woman said and Hotch stood gesturing for you to follow.

“You have a to go bag?” He asked as you both walked out the door.

“Yes sir.” You nodded, still baffled by how well things had gone.

“Good, welcome to the team Y/L/N.”

“Everyone, this is SSA Y/F/N Y/L/N. I’m sure proper introductions can be made later.” Hotch said as the two of you entered the room before gesturing to Garcia that she could begin.

“Ok, yes, so, we have five bodies so far found in Wyoming. The first two bodies were hidden amongst some trees close to firehole bay. The ME presumes that the time of death was mostly likely a week ago but we should have full confirmation when you arrive. The victims, who we haven’t been able to identify yet, but I am working on it, were stripped completely and the wounds, that are in your files because I so do not need to see that, show heavy signs of torture. ” Garcia informed you all.

“The next body was a single male, again stripped and tortured and the ME says this death is most likely four to five days old. This body was found a few miles away from Basin Bay Point campsite.”

“Wait a second,” somebody interrupted, causing you to turn your head. There sat a man, younger than the rest of the team, he was…how you had missed him you didn’t know but now you felt like you couldn’t look away. “If I’m not mistaken those places are roughly twenty miles from each other at walking distance.”

“And driving distance?” An older man asked.

“I don’t think there is a way to drive to Basin Bay Point, especially not to where the body was left.” The younger man replied, looking down at the folder he was given with a frown.

“I’ll have a map ready for you on the plane.” Penelope assured him before continuing. “Now, the next two bodies were the most recent, ME says they were killed a day or two ago and these victims we have been able to identify as Taylor Gomez and her boyfriend Jack Gaskarth.” Penelope said as she brought their pictures up. “They were never reported missing because they had told friends and family they were going camping, which checks out because their bodies were found three miles away from Lewis Lake campground. They show the same wounds as the other vics.” Garcia explained.

You grimaced as you looked down at the tablet Hotch had passed you as you saw a young man and woman, naked with slices all across their bodies, as well as deep bruising to the neck.

“What was the CoD, Garcia?” The younger man spoke up again.

“ME still needs to run a full examination but her best bet is that it was asphyxiation.” She told him with a frown.

“That makes sense, there isn’t a lot of blood or scabbing which suggests they were done post mortem.”

“So what,” you spoke up, pausing for a moment when everyone turned to you, “the unsub blitz attacks the victims and kills them before torturing them? What’s the point in that?”

“It could be a number of things actually. Perhaps it’s not about the kills for him but more to do with the fascination of the human body, we’ve seen it before where curiosity leads to this kind of attack. It could also be that he has to kill, he has a compulsion to kill and once he’s given into that compulsion he gets to fulfil other urges. If I had to guess I’d say the victims are victims of opportunity-” The younger man rambled, his hands gesturing in front of him as he spoke causing you to smile.

“Because there is no set pattern, he crosses race and gender lines and there’s no secondary location.” You cut off the other man who looked at you with a grin.

“Exactly, the area is so isolated that he can get away with quick and easy killings but because it doesn’t seem like there’s a secondary location yet we have to presume that the torture is a means to satisfy himself when he can’t hold his victims hostage.”

“It’s a long flight and this unsub doesn’t appear to be slowing down. Wheels up in fifteen.” Hotch said as he stood up, everyone was quick to follow until it was just you and the guy you had spoken to left.

“Hi.” He said, causing you to turn around with a smile.

“Hi.”

“I’m Spencer, Spencer Reid.” He introduced himself.

“Y/F/N Y/L/N, nice to meet you.” You replied, reaching out your hand to shake his, your eyebrows pulling together slightly as he shook his head.

“Sorry, I don’t um,” He said, causing you to drop your hand and nod understandingly, “it’s nothing against you, just…germs.” He trailed off, berating himself in his head.

“No problem.” You smiled again, god that smile. Spencer felt his heart race.

“Congratulations on joining the team.” He praised as the two of you walked out of the round table room.

“Thank you, I’ve wanted this for so long.” He watched as the smile fell from your face before you shook your head slightly.

“Is everything ok?” He asked, understanding the nerves. He couldn’t help but glance down, almost smiling as he saw you picking at your thumb.

“Yeah, I’m just, what if I mess up?” You couldn’t help but ask. After wanting this job for as long as you had, all the hard nights and long days spent training you were finally here and you’d be damned if you screwed everything up.

“You won’t, Hotch wouldn’t have hired you if he didn’t think you were good enough, trust me. I think you’ll be amazing.” He told you, flushing slightly at his own words and the soft smile that replaced the frown on your face.

“Thank you Spencer.” You replied softly and before he could respond the rest of the team was calling for the two of you to head to the air strip.

On the plane you were properly introduced to everyone as you took a seat next to Spencer, sitting opposite Hotch and Rossi. On the table in front of you Spencer had both a map of the US and a smaller map of Wyoming. You watched his fingers trace invisible lines as his eyebrows knitted together.

You were trying not to stare, really you were, but there was just something about the man that made you want to get to know him.

Thankfully before anyone noticed your eyes glancing at Spencer every few moments, the man himself spoke.

“Guys, if you map out where the five victims were found,” Spencer began, circling three places on the map as he did, “it looks like the victims might have been hiking the continental divide trail.”

“Pretty boy, isn’t that trail like thousands of miles long?” Morgan asked, watching as Spencer nodded, pushing the little map of Wyoming out of the way for a moment and drawing a line down the map of the US.

“This is the continental divide trail, it’s 3,300 miles long and it’s actually quite difficult to hike. These people had to have been exceptionally fit and healthy which further backs up the theory that these were blitz attacks. You can go days without seeing other people when hiking the trail and most hikers have to give up because of lack of supplies or needing urgent medical care from injuries and illnesses they attract. A part of the Wyoming part of the trail includes a 120 mile stretch of desert with water sources few and far between.” Spencer rambled and you couldn’t help the soft smile, though you did try to hide it behind your hand, glancing away from Rossi when you locked eyes with him and he raised an eyebrow at you.

“So we have a serial killer and 3,300 miles of potential hunting grounds?” JJ asked.

“So far he seems to be focusing on Wyoming, which narrows the geographic profile down to…’ Spencer paused as he pulled the Wyoming map closer to him, “550 miles.”

“I hope you all brought your hiking boots.” Rossi said as groans filled the jet.

“Hello my crime fighters.” Garcia’s voice sounded through the speakers. “Hotch, the families of the latest two victims are at the station waiting for you.”

“Thank you Garcia,” Hotch replied before turning to the team. “JJ, I want you to come with me to the station and help interview the families. We also need to get ahead of the media on this before they start glorifying the unsub. Reid, since the geographic profile is mostly established, I want you to take Y/L/N and head to the latest crime scene. Dave and Morgan, the two of you head to the second crime scene.”

You and Spencer both shared a look at the news you were travelling to a crime scene that couldn’t be driven too. Whilst you managed to pass the FBI’s training and fitness tests you weren’t exactly athletically inclined and seeing from the look Spencer was giving you neither was he.

Judging from the chuckles that filled the plane the others had come to the same conclusion that you and Spencer were not going to recover from this trip.

You had driven as close to the crime scene as you could get, which was thankfully closer than the one Morgan and Rossi had to go to. It was still a hell of a hike to get to where the unsub had dumped the bodies.

“Ok, ok,” Spencer panted, cheeks flushed from the heat. “Let’s take a break.”

“Please.” You were quick to agree and the two of you sat down heavily on a fallen tree trunk. You had all been warned that you needed supplies, even for a short hike. So you had both been sent out with backpacks filled with water bottles and food. There were other supplies like maps, compasses and first aid kits that you were hoping you wouldn’t have to use. Thankfully you had been paired with the man with the eidetic memory because you couldn’t read a map to save your life.

After the two of you gulped down some water and caught your breath Spencer spoke up.

“Why the BAU?” He asked suddenly, causing you to look up in confusion.

“Sorry?” You replied.

“You said you had wanted to join the BAU for a long time, why?” He asked again, not pushing you when you paused.

It wasn’t a secret what had happened to your family, Spencer could easily find the information out if he wanted to but you wanted to be the one to tell him. It wasn’t a story you liked sharing with people but something about Spencer made you feel…safe.

“When I was a kid there was a serial killer but he was in the next state over and we were from a small town so nobody thought to worry and after a while things went quiet so everyone just assumed he stopped, you know? Anyway, one day I went to my friend’s house, it was summer and I was always out with my friends. I was there for a few hours but I was always home in time for dinner except for this day, I ended up losing track of time and headed home an hour late. When I got home, my momma was there in the kitchen. She was covered in blood and I just screamed. The rest of my family didn’t make it either. When the police came they said the markings were the same as the victims from the next state over.” You told him, not pausing for breath as you rushed through the story. You watched as his expression fell, his sympathy written on his face.

“I’m so sorry.” He told you and you could hear the sincerity in his tone. You gave him a small smile before continuing.

“I could just never understand why. The thing that kept me up at night was that question: why? Why them? Why did he come here? Why wasn’t I home? Why did I deserve to live? I started researching and somehow came across an article about the BAU, from there I knew I wanted to work there.”

“Most people wouldn’t be able to come back from something like that, especially at such a young age.” Spencer said, causing you to glance over at him. “They’d be so proud of you.”

You couldn’t help but let out what sounded like a chuckle and a sob at those words, causing Spencer’s eyes to widen in fear he had upset you further but then you smile brightly and he couldn’t help but smile back.

“I like to think so.” You said softly. “You ready to continue?” You asked, chuckling as he groaned before standing up.

“I hate Hotch.” Was the grumbled response and the laugh he received in return made every sore bone and the aching feet worth it.

“We know that this unsub is a physically fit white male in his mid to late thirties.” Hotch began.

“Looking at the geographical pattern it’s safe to assume that he too is hiking the Continental Divide Trail in search of victims who are isolated from the rest of civilization. He also has no problems taking down two victims.” Spencer continued.

“The period in between kills is lessening so we should expect to find another body soon, have as many officers as possible on the rest of the trail.” You picked up.

“Considering the last kill was two days ago, the average person could walk up to 30 miles a day on normal terrain but we have to consider that the terrain out there is harsh so lets say he walks 20 miles a day that gives up a 40 mile radius he could be in. He is guaranteed to stay on the continental divide trail so stop every male you see.” Spencer told the LEO’s and after some more information was shared everyone headed off in different directions, the BAU members heading into the room they had been given to work in.

“Y/N,” Hotch said, causing everyone to look over at you.

“Yes sir?” You asked, looking up from your laptop.

“You’re probably the most skilled undercover agent in this room,” He said, causing your cheeks to flush and Spencer couldn’t help but smile. “I know this isn’t exactly the type of case you’d usually be assigned but perhaps if we send you out there we have a better chance of catching him. This man is impulsive, if he sees you he won’t be able to control himself.” Hotch explained, ignoring the questioning looks he was getting from most of the team.

You, however, relaxed, thankful that you hadn’t done something wrong. Undercover work was easy, you were comfortable with it, you knew you were good at it. Obviously you weren’t as confident at this part of the job yet, how could you be on your first case, but undercover work? That was your area of expertise.

“Of course sir.” You agreed easily before remembering how fun the small hike to the last crime scene was…your body would not thank you for signing up for a much longer hike.

“Hotch, are you sure that’s a good idea?” Morgan spoke up causing you to frown. Sure they didn’t know you yet but surely your record spoke for itself. “No offence to you,” he said quickly as he turned to you, “it’s just-“

But before he could finish Hotch cut him off, “I have full faith in Y/L/N’s abilities.”

You couldn’t help feeling a swell of pride at Hotch’s words, a man who you looked up to, a man who barely knew you but was trusting you with so much already. You locked eyes with Spencer who smiled at you reassuringly.

“I’m not doubting the kid’s abilities,” Morgan continued, missing the way you rolled your eyes at being called a kid. “I’m just saying maybe don’t send her in on her own on her first case.”

“I’ll go with her.” Spencer spoke up before Hotch could argue back.

Your eyes widened at Spencer’s offer, he did just as well as you did on your first outing and now he was offering to put himself through hours more of that for what?

“Are you ok with that, Y/N?” Hotch asked you.

You didn’t even hesitate to nod, more than happy for the opportunity to spend time with Spencer Reid.

“We’ll be close by the whole time,” Hotch told you as he passed you your backpack filled with supplies, “the second we hear something, we’ll be there.” He assured you and you couldn’t help but smile at his concern.

“I’ll be fine, sir. This is actually the part of the job I’m good at.” You laughed, watching as his lip twitched upwards.

“You’ve been a great help in coming up with a profile too.” He assured you and before you could say anything the rest of the team was flooding in.

The plan for you and Spencer to hike up to a specific spot that Spencer had managed to pinpoint the unsub at and set up camp there. From there you would wait and hope for the unsub to appear. The man was impulsive and his need to kill would be overwhelming by now. The two of you were wired up so that if the unsub appeared the rest of the team could step in and help with the arrest.

You and Spencer were dropped off half an hour away from your campsite just so that if the unsub was around he wouldn’t suspect anything.

The walk was mostly silent, both you and Spencer focusing on not breaking an ankle on the uneven terrain when Spencer finally spoke up.

“Morgan didn’t mean anything insulting.” He told you, causing you to pause before shrugging your shoulders and continuing. When you stayed silent Spencer continued, “he’s just protective but sometimes he isn’t really good at showing it and it comes across…”

“It comes across like he thinks I can’t do my job despite this being my forte.” You finished with a huff before sighing. “I’m sorry, I just…you can’t imagine how many times a male colleague has said I can’t do something and then a supervisor has agreed, you don’t understand how hard I have to fight to be given assignments and not have somebody constantly berating me.” You ranted.

“People look at me like I’m a child. When I first joined the BAU nobody would take me seriously, without Gideon I don’t know what would have happened.” Spencer told you quietly, causing you to frown.

“So you can understand why it’s so frustrating that someone who doesn’t know me didn’t even want to give me a chance.” You replied, causing him to nod sadly. ‘I know he probably didn’t mean anything but…”

“You’ve heard that your entire career.” Spencer finished.

“Hotch was the first person to give me a chance without any hesitation.” You told him softly, watching as he smiled at that. “This should be close enough.” You said as you looked around, the place looked similar to the image Spencer had shown the team.

“Please tell me you know how to put a tent up.” You said, watching as his face twisted.

“I know the theory?” The way his response sounded like a question made you smile as you pulled poles and material out of a bag. The two of you staring down at the mess with matching expressions of confusion.

“Now would be a really good time for the unsub to attack.” He muttered, causing you to laugh loudly. Spencer couldn’t help but grin over at you, your cheeks flushing as you caught the expression.

It took longer than either you or Spencer were willing to admit to put the tent up, despite the fact that it wouldn’t get used, you had to make it look like the pair of you were really camping. There was a lot of grumbling, many curse words and a cut or two.

There was also a lot of laughter coming from the comms in your ears causing both you and Spencer to roll your eyes.

Once the tent was up, Spencer lay a blanket down outside of it and sat down, gesturing for you to do the same. Miraculously the two of you got a fire started and as the sun set and the night time air chilled you were thankful for it.

“I don’t camp but I guess I can see the appeal.” Spencer told you as he titled his head back to look up at the stars. You glanced up too, the sky wasn’t totally black yet, more of an inky blue colour and you could see every star on the cloudless night.

It was beautiful and yet you still found your gaze falling back on Spencer.

“Yeah, me too.” You replied softly, your voice quiet so as not to break the peacefulness around you.

Somehow the two of you ended up laying down and looking up at the sky, you had a smile on your face that refused to move as Spencer’s hushed voice told you facts about stars.

“I’m glad you’re on the team.” Spencer whispered after a long pause of silence. It took you a moment to register his words before you turned your head, coming face to face with the man.

“Me too.” You whispered back, meaning the words with your entire being.

Just as Spencer went to say something you heard a rustle in the bushes and locked eyes with Spencer who nodded.

The two of you waited, not waiting to disrupt the operation if it just turned out to be an animal, but as you pushed yourself up on your elbow and discreetly looked around you saw a faint outline of a man. He was hidden behind a tree but he was watching the two of you.

“The hike up here was exactly what we needed.” You told Spencer and through the comms you heard the team moving out.

“You’re right.” He played along, smiling up at you from his reclined position.

Before you knew what was happening Spencer had his gun out and the unsub grabbed you, placing you in front of him as a human shield. If someone asked you, you would never have been able to recall the events that led to you having a knife held to your neck.

You saw the panicked look in Spencer’s eyes but you couldn’t hear his thoughts, they were overwhelming. Thoughts of Maeve passed through his mind as he pleaded with anyone who would listen to let you be ok, he couldn’t lose you too. Hell, he’d only known you a few days and yet he knew you were special, he knew he had to have you in his life. If you died now…

“Just let her go.” Spencer said, keeping his gun trained on the man.

“I let her go, you ship me off to death row.” The man responded, his face close to your face, too close. The smell of his breath had you grimacing.

“I’ll make you a deal,” Spencer responded, not even thinking. He just needed to get you away.

“Spenc, what you doing kid?” He heard Morgan through his ear piece but he just shook his head before shooting you a reassuring smile, trying not to focus on the tears in your eyes or the blood on your neck.

“I’m listenin’.” The unsub replied after a moment of silence, gesturing for Spencer to continue.

“Let her go,” He said, lowering his gun, “I won’t arrest you. You can get a head start before anyone else gets here. Just let her go.” Spencer pleaded.

It was a tense few seconds in which Spencer never took his eyes off you, he hated to see that scared look in your eyes, the fear in them made Spencer ache.

“Let her go.” Spencer said once more and he let out a sigh of relief as you were pushed into his arms.

Just as the unsub ran to leave, you twisted around in Spencer’s arms and drew your own gun, shooting the unsub in the leg. The rest of the team ran in just as the man fell to the ground.

Spencer turned you around so that you were facing him, his hands on your shoulders.

“Are you ok?” He asked, Morgan and Hotch walking over whilst Rossi and JJ dealt with the man.

You didn’t respond with words, instead you wrapped your arms around Spencer. He didn’t hesitate to wrap his own around you, holding you close as you let the tears slid down your face.

You pulled away abruptly, rubbing your eyes as you did.

“Sorry, you don’t like to be touched and here I am-“ You said but Spencer just cut you off.

“It’s fine, really.” He assured you before his attention turned to your neck. The knife hadn’t pierced the skin too badly, there was a small bit of blood where the knife had nicked you when the unsub pressed a bit too hard.

“Are you ok?” He asked again, fingers on your jaw so that he could tilt your face and get a better look.

“Spencer, I’m fine.” You assured him but that didn’t stop him from getting you medical attention the moment you were back in the town.

Spencer watched as you squirmed away from the nurse seeing to you with a soft smile.

There was something about you that made him feel so free, like he could be himself and the thought of losing you…he didn’t want to think about it again.

“You like her.” Derek said as he came to stand next to the younger man.

“That’s ridiculous, I’ve known her for a few days.” Spencer shot back but he knew his friend was right.

“If she’s the right girl, a few days is all you need.” Was Derek’s reply before he walked away, leaving Spencer looking at you with a thoughtful look on his face.

The plane ride home was uneventful.

You took the seat next to Spencer again and watched him pull a book out. You couldn’t help but glance down at it, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion as you didn’t recognise the language.

“It’s Russian.” He told you quietly, not wanting to disturb anyone as they settled in for a long flight.

“You read Russian?” You asked just as quietly, watching as he smiled bashfully and shrugged before nodding. You glanced down at the pages again before letting out a small yawn. “Can you read to me?” You asked him, smiling as he nodded again.

“Of course,” He said and with that it wasn’t long before you fell asleep to the soothing sound of Spencer Reid.

“Ask her, man.” Morgan said as both he and Spencer watched you leave the office after finishing your paperwork. Spencer too was done and Morgan assured him he’d make sure Hotch received it.

There was only a brief moment of hesitation before Spencer snatched his satchel up and ran to the elevators, getting there just before they shut on you.

“Hey.” He greeted as he stepped in.

“Hi.” You smiled, brushing a piece of hair out of your face.

“I was wondering, I mean if you wanted to, of course you don’t have to, I was only suggesting but I’d really like it if you would,” Spencer rambled before cutting himself out with a groaning causing you to giggle.

“Are you asking me out?” You asked, cheeks flushing as you asked.

“I’m trying to,” he told you, “but I’m not very good at this.”

“Just ask.” You told him softly.

“Would you like to go out with me?” He asked after taking a deep and calming breath.

“I’d love to.” You grinned, thankful that the man had made a move. You wouldn’t have risked asking him on the chance that you were reading him wrong and he didn’t like you but thankfully he had taken it into his own hands.

“Good. Great. That, that’s great.” He repeated, a soft grin spreading across his face causing you to giggle as the doors opened.

The two of you walked out together and there was a moment of awkward silence before Spencer dipped his head down to kiss your cheek, making your blush even more prominent.

You looked so pretty when you blushed, Spencer thought.

“I’ll call you.” He promised.

“I hope so.” You replied before heading towards your car, when you turned around you saw Spencer still stood by the doors with a smile still on his face. You giggled to yourself but couldn’t stop smiling yourself if you tried.

Spencer Reid was something else and you couldn’t wait to learn everything about that wonderful man.

657 notes · View notes

wearywinchester · 3 years

Text

Not Going Anywhere

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: When he nearly loses you, Dean finds he can’t stand the thought of that happening.

Requested by Anonymous: “May I please request a one shot of dean and reader with her having an internal bleeding. You know when the character seems fine but then boom they collapse and turns out they're not fine at all?? I LIIIVE for that shit... The shock, the realization, the worry....”

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: angst, injury, bleeding, shock, anxiety, mentions of alcohol, guilt, fluff

You sat slumped in the backseat of the Impala, exhausted from the hunt. Fortunately, it’d been close to the bunker, close enough that you didn’t need a motel room overnight. Close enough that the drive hadn’t been terribly long like most cases were. You felt like you’d been run over by a semi two times over, a certain weakness running through you that left you feeling less than okay.

You watched quietly as the rain came down and trickled against the chilled windows of the car, falling into each other as they raced down the glass before fresh ones took their place in an instant. It was gloomy weather, something you could have found yourself seeking comfort in on any given day, something that otherwise would have been cozy had you not felt the way you did.

But you did, and it wasn’t leaving any time soon.

Dean had the heat cranked up because he could see that you were cold, could tell by the way you wrapped your arms around yourself. The ache and burn in your stomach had yet to subside, Dean having cleaned your wound before setting off to go home earlier that day, but that didn’t stop it from hurting.

You were less than comfortable, as far from it as you could be as you sat behind Sam. You missed the way Dean had glanced at you in the rear view more often than not, his concern evident in the crease between his brows, deepening each and every time he looked. He saw your agitation, the way your face contorted in discomfort as you slumped against the seat. You couldn’t sit still even if your life depended on it, constantly moving in your seat despite the way the hurt in your abdomen is screaming at you otherwise.

You don’t think you’ve ever been so restless in your life more than you were in that moment, anxiety settling in heavily the more you sat stuck in that car. There wasn’t anything in particular for you to feel this way over—you’d ridden in this car more times than you could count for years, having sat in the very same spot for far longer than this trip has been before. You’d done it all before without fail, without a problem, but this time was different.

It was different and he knew it.

Any other time you’d start a conversation about any and everything, singing along with him to nearly any song that came on the radio for the sake of getting on Sam’s nerves. Any other time you’d take a nap if you were tired, especially on a day like that where the clouds and rain offered ample comfort to allow you to do so, but this wasn’t any other time. This time you looked like you were two seconds from hopping out at the next red light, and it didn’t sit right with him.

“Sweetheart, you okay back there?” He calls out over his shoulder.

You’re not even sure if the words came out of his mouth, not even sure if you heard him as you shifted your gaze. When he didn’t get a response he looked in his mirror at you, calling out your name once more with more concern than the last.

You sat up a little straighter, glancing at him with eyes squinted slightly in confusion. “‘M fine, De.”

He wasn’t entirely convinced of that, not even a little bit as you blinked, trying to gather yourself a bit more than in that moment as he turned down the road that led to the bunker. You had a habit of saying you’re fine when you’re not, and you’re so clearly the opposite and he finds himself grateful he’s home, you’re home. But that doesn’t soothe the worry boiling over in the pit of his stomach, clouding his mind of anything and everything revolving around you.

Your words were merely words as they fell from your lips, that feeling simmering within you feeling awfully bad as you sit there, as the impala descended down into the bunker’s garage. The fluorescent lights were harsh on your eyes, your wince inevitable as you fought the groan sitting in the back of your throat. Dean didn’t need to be worrying over you, though he surely already was.

You think you just need a rest, a few hours sleeping in your own bed would do you some good. It had to.

You hadn’t fully registered the fact that the car had come to a stop, put in park in its usual spot and it gave Dean enough time to round the back end of it before you tried to get out on your own. When he pulls the door open you’ve got that look, one that tugs at his heart because you look so miserable, so tired and defeated. He crouches down closer to your level as you sit there, watches as you take a deep breath to try and steady the race of your heart. To try and calm the queasy feeling in your stomach.

“Sweetheart?” He asks, eyes on you in search of any indication that you’d been listening. You were, you really were, but you were trying to get a handle on how you felt. “Baby, we’re home.”

You nod then, turning your head to look at him with a soft smile in an attempt to assure him you’d heard him. He stood to his feet and held his hand out, gentle as he helped out of the car. You tried to ignore the rush that came down over you the moment you got up, tried to swallow down the intensifying nausea that’d swirled around in your stomach just begging to come up. You tried your hardest and it was proving to be a challenge.

You were dizzy when you stood to your feet, almost overwhelming, but you were quick to balance yourself and you brushed it off. You’d been in the car for the past two hours, doing nothing but sit in the same position for the majority of that time and you’d yet to eat or drink anything. A little dizziness seemed reasonable upon standing in your mind, not to mention the way your head had been hurting for nearly the same amount of time as the drive home.

You felt his hand slip from yours in favor of wrapping around you to steady you, to help you as you walked but you shrugged him off just as quickly, flashing him a look.

“De, I’m fine. You don’t need to fuss over me,” you say, and the look on his face shows just how much he disagrees with you. You could see it with the dimples forming by the very corners of his mouth and the raise of his eyebrow.

“Y/n—”

“I’m serious. I just need a little sleep and I’ll be fine,” you say, smiling once more in hopes he’d settle down, but you knew he wouldn’t.

It took a few moments, but eventually he dropped his hand to his side reluctantly and eyed you carefully, cautious as he watched you walk ahead into the bunker’s hallway towards your shared room. He knew you better than you thought, better than you knew yourself. He knew you like the back of his hand, but you were just as stubborn as he was and that’s the problem.

You flickered between bouts of nausea and none at all, between feeling fine, like you said you were, and feeling like you’d been drug all the way home tied to the trunk of the Impala. It was something that worsened the more you dwelled on the feeling, something you wished would subside.

You felt a beat of relief upon seeing the golden eleven mounted on that familiar wooden door come into view just down the hall, could smell the faint scent of Dean’s cologne wafting over you as he walked by towards Sam.

You were almost there, then you could lay down for a good long while, tuck yourself into that memory foam bed that was unbelievably comfortable and smelled every bit like Dean, and rest like you’d been longing to do since the moment you left to come home that day. You could rest in the comfort of your shared space for as long as you needed to get better. You were almost there.

But you weren’t.

In that moment, you felt like you were miles away from your destination, you felt like the conversation the two of them were having just a few feet away had been miles away from you, their voices muffled far more than they should be for how close they’d really been to you.

You slowed yourself to a wavering stop for a minute just to gather yourself a little more than you were then and there, reaching out for the wall that was just a little farther than you anticipated it to be. Your ears began to ring slightly, gradually, as that same nausea made its unpleasant return in your stomach, eyes squeezing shut just for a moment. You weren’t aware of just how awful you looked in that moment, but you knew it couldn’t have been too good if it was a reflection of how you were feeling in that very same moment. To be quite honest you felt like you’d just run a marathon with the way you couldn’t catch your breath, with the way your heart had been hammering within your chest at a faster than normal pace.

You felt like a walking, breathing disaster, and sure enough, you looked like it too.

Dean’s brows furrowed when he followed Sam’s gaze, to you, to you who stood there unsure of yourself as a flurry of emotions flashed over your face within a second’s time. A number of emotions, none of anything positive being displayed and it intensified the worries he’d had running through him. A sheen of sweat had glistened over your skin despite the chill that ran through you, your vision doubled as you opened your eyes once more to try and give Dean a glance.

“Y/n?” Your name fell from his lips, soft and hesitant at first as the initial confusion took over, his mouth going dry as he approached you.

“I’m…” you start, nodding your head as you swallow thickly. “I’m fine, Dean. I just…"

Your words were failing you, your ability to form a coherent thought failing you in that moment as you lost all means of balance, teetering on the edge of collapsing before you’d gone and done it. The shout of your name had come off as an echo to you, the impact of the floor having been cold and unforgiving as you fell, too weak to catch yourself.

He hated just how limp you felt in his arms as he knelt beside you, the pain jolting through him from dropping to his knees on the concrete floor having been the very least of his concerns as he watched you. Panic had lanced through him as your head lulled, caught in the crook of his arm as his other hand grabbed your face. Despite the sweat gleaming across your skin, your cheeks were void of any heat that you’d expect to feel and it only added to his upset.

“Y/n!” He called out, your brows furrowing as you felt yourself go from bad to worse, a steady declining feeling blanketing you. “Sweetheart, stay with me.”

His voice was loud, carrying through the winding hall in an echoing display of his fear, the sound taunting him as it bounced off the walls. You nodded weakly, despite the way your heartbeat hammered loudly in your ears enough to muffle what he’d been saying to Sam, or the way you couldn’t hold yourself up if it weren’t for the way he held you. Despite that, you nodded for him.

That ache from the wound you’d walked away from that hunt with was still very much there, that you knew. You knew things didn’t look good for you in that moment, not with the way Dean looked at you as if his heart had been ripped from his chest, or the fear in his eyes when he’d pressed his fingers to the side of your neck, your pulse faint but bounding beneath his fingertips. Things were continuing to go from bad to worse, to far beyond that and you knew that wasn’t a good sign.

You knew it the moment that feeling hit you in the car an hour earlier and the panic you felt was only increasing the more you thought things over.

You should have said something then, you know that now. You should have stopped saying you were fine when you so clearly weren’t, should have stopped doing what you always do and downplay a situation in fear of thinking about the outcome. You should have known better than to think it’d be as easy as Dean patching you up, not after what that spirit did to you. Nothing in hunting is ever as good as it seems, as easy as it seems, and you should have said something earlier.

Because now, now you were quite sure you were facing your fate when you didn’t have time to prepare for it. And that’s what scared you the most. It could have been something trivial, that’s what you’d been longing for it to be, but you knew it was just your own denial telling you that.

“Dean,” you say, taking a breath as you look up at him. The green eyes you loved so much were filled with a kind of emotion you never liked to see. “I—I just want you to know—”

“No, no c’mon. We’re not doing this sweetheart, okay?”

Nausea hit him like a ton of bricks at the sight of the crimson that slowly began to stain your teeth when you coughed, rage bursting through him in waves over the situation he doesn’t know how to control the ending of. Over the fact that he doesn’t think he can control the outcome for the love of his life in his very arms. He knows nothing in this life is guaranteed, not for the life of someone who hunts the world’s worst monsters.

He’s lost so much in his life, but damn does this one hurt.

“I don’t feel so good,” you murmur instead, watching the expressions flicker across his face through half closed eyes as you groan, brows furrowing at the expression he’d been looking at you with. “What is it?”

He couldn’t tell you what he saw, he wouldn’t do it.

“I know you don’t,” he says softly, chuckling despite it being void of humor, running his hand over your head. “I know you don’t but you’re gonna be okay, you hear me?”

All you could do was hum and nod, a soft noise you can’t quite tell had left your lips as the weight of your eyelids grew heavier and heavier. You were tired, that much was true. But he tapped your cheek with his hand lightly, grabbing ahold of your face.

“Don’t do that,” he urged, “please, don’t do that.”

He looked to Sam, a mirrored look of panic looking back at him that didn’t do much to soothe his stresses.

He feels near paralyzed when his gaze drops to you again, your eyes closed. He’d grabbed your face and called your name till his throat felt like sandpaper, till it felt like he swallowed a thousand knives he shouted your name. He held you tight in his arms as his mind worried in a frenzy of fear, calling out desperately for the one person that could help.

Cas.

If there was one thing that Dean Winchester knew how to do, it was worry. He’d worry himself to death over the ones he loved, in fact, there wasn’t a thing he wouldn’t do to keep them safe. But worry is what he’d done for the last two and a half hours and nothing else.

If it was possible, one might think he’d wear a hole in the floor from his pacing at the foot of the bed in the bunkers infirmary. Cas had come in a moment’s notice much to Dean’s relief, had swooped in quite literally and healed you the way he hoped you could be.

It turns out that spirit had done more than just graze you, had gone a little deeper than either of you had thought. It turns out you’d been bleeding more than just on the surface, and that it hadn’t actually slowed to a stop once he’d patched you up back there. You were bleeding this whole time, you just didn’t know it until it almost became too late.

It all made sense now, the way you were acting in the car. The restlessness, the agitation and the way you couldn’t sit still. He knew there was something wrong even when you refused to admit it, and he hated it when you did that. Hated it when you kept your pain to yourself when you really didn’t need to, in favor of staving his worry and trying to be independent, and that’s something he knew well.

But that wasn’t the point, the point was you were lying there in that bed almost within an inch of your life had Cas not come. The point was he nearly lost you in his arms and he couldn’t help the blame that sparked and burst within him that maybe he shouldn’t have believed you when you said you were fine. He didn’t, but he felt he should have kept pushing, kept prying to get you to admit it. Thinking that maybe he should have known there was more to that injury by the way your face crinkled up when it happened, by the way you fell to the floor for a moment or two before you stood back on your feet.

He felt like this was on him, and it was tearing him up from the inside out.

Dean ran through a myriad of emotions that night, each one hitting harder than the last. He was scared, the mere thought of losing someone he found himself rapidly not being able to see himself living without having scared him more than he’d care to even admit. He was angry, his fear masked behind clenched jaws and hands running through hair, chairs kicked and chest heaving. Angry at himself for not having gotten to you sooner back there.

It was a never ending cycle of fear and anger and guilt, a cycle he felt he’d always feel in one way or another so long as the ones he loves keep getting hurt when he feels he has the means to prevent it somehow.

For the better part of that two hours, apart from the anxious pacing, he sat at your side as you rested. He was reluctant to leave your side should something happen again. He couldn’t handle that and he knew it. He sat there with his elbows on his knees, chin in his hands. He held your hand for a while, thumb absentmindedly brushing over your knuckles as his foot tapped and his knee bounced subconsciously.

For the better part of that two hours, the events of what lead up to that point had replayed in his mind over and over in a taunting loop, having worsened the feeling he held each and every time it restarted. Each time he recalled something more in the way you’d looked in the car, in the way you acted, in the way you felt in his arms.

Cas had to tell him a million times over that you’d be okay. That wound on your stomach had been healed, everything had been healed as though it was never there. He told him a thousand times over that you were stable, you were okay. You were okay, but he couldn’t find it in himself to get over it just yet.

The last time Cas had said it was when he believed it, it was when he couldn’t be in that room another second otherwise he just might crack. He couldn’t bear to see you laying there like that, no matter the fact that you were just fine. It made his stomach churn and twist in knots.

He left, the stack of lore books swept off the table in the library in his wake, a string of curses leaving his lips. He went to your shared room first, the door slamming roughly behind him. He was angry at no one else but himself despite the fact that he shouldn’t be, but he’ll beg to differ on that a thousand times over.

When you woke up, the infirmary was empty. You’d seen the chair at your bedside that hadn’t normally been there. And if it wasn’t telling enough of Dean’s presence, the weight of his jacket splaying warmly overtop of you was sure to make it all the more obvious he’d been there.

You were sore as you sat up, stiff from having been laying in the same position for an amount of time you were sure of. But, when you lifted the hem of your shirt, that burning wound had no longer resided where it’d been. That nausea had since dissolved, that headache had gone away for the most part, and the weakness you felt, the dizziness, it’d all gone away. You knew it was done with the help of no one other than Cas.

You were sure Dean had been there with you for quite some time, but you also knew Dean better than to think he’d handle it well. You knew by the way you’d woken up by yourself that he’d handled it horribly. He gets worked up over injuries that are on a smaller scale, but this, this was far different than that. Inches from meeting your fate had been much too different than that and you knew he’d disappeared to sulk by himself.

You sighed when you pushed yourself off the bed, leaving the empty infirmary before navigating the bunker. The sight of the books splaying messily across the floor had been an indication of something you already suspected, the quiet in the air having added to the tension only followed when one of the three of you had been angry.

Your bedroom was empty, the blankets stretching over to his side of the bed having been wrinkled some from where he’d been sitting. A photo of the two of you had been sitting there on the nightstand, half-tucked under the base of the lamp sitting lit atop it, the drawer not closed all the way.

The Impala was still in the garage where he’d parked it hours ago, a frown tugging at your lips at the sight of the very hallway everything had taken place.

You knew where he’d be at this hour, at one where everyone should be asleep. Sam had been, you were sure of that, but if Dean hadn’t been in either of those places, you knew where he’d be.

A knowing sigh left your lips as you stepped down into the kitchen, the very one you’d been looking for sitting at the table. You saw the bottle of whiskey on the table and you saw the glass in his hand. You saw the way his hair had been a ruffled mess and you saw the ivory of his knuckles as he held that very same glass. You knew that all too well, you knew he’d been all sorts of torn up inside. He was.

“Knew I’d find you here,” you say, his head turning at the sound of your voice.

You could see the relief flooding his expression as he looked up at you, at the way his eyes widened and the way his face lit up just a little bit more than before, though it didn’t take long for the crease between his brows to deepen once more as you sat down next to him. He’s quiet for a moment before he presses a lingering kiss to your temple, and another as his next words are murmured against your skin.

“Sweetheart, you should be in bed, you’ve been through it today.”

You could hear the fatigue in the softness of his tone, could feel his nose brush against your temple before he turned away.

“Without you?” Your words are lighter as a soft smile tugs at the corner of your mouth.

He chuckles, half-humorous as he shakes his head, swirling the whiskey around in his glass. He swallows thickly, thoughts weighing heavy on his mind as a million words sit on the tip of his tongue. You knew a little humor didn’t do much to stave off that feeling he held.

“‘M fine, Dean.”

“Don’t say that,” he says, head shaking before he brings the glass up to his mouth and swallows the rest of his drink, pouring himself another.

You saw the way his eyes were rimmed a pale shade of pink. Dean Winchester wasn’t one to cry too often, but you could always tell when he had been. His eyes were red and so was the very tip of his nose, flushed a soft pink and the quiver in his lip hadn’t quite left just yet.

“I’m serious, Dean. I’m okay.”

“Well you weren’t a few hours ago, Y/n. You were damn near dead,” he says, louder than before as his jaw tenses.

“Well I’m not,” you counter, the huff that puffs through his nose an indication of his frustration.

“I’m glad this is just another day to you, Y/n.”

He brings his hands up to his face, rubbing over it in frustration as he sniffs. You saw that quiver just a little more now, one he hid behind his glass as he tipped his head back and drank it.

“For cryin’ out loud you still got blood on your teeth, Y/n,” he says, softer this time as the tension in his jaw loosens.

You sigh softly, more so to yourself as you stay quiet for a moment or two, your tongue swiping over your teeth before you bite the inside of your cheek. You can see the emotions flicker and roll through him, can see the guilt written clear across his face to match the feeling simmering in the pit of his stomach. When you got up, he’d expected you to just walk away, though instead you find yourself leaning atop the wooden table.

You snag the glass from the loose grip he had on it, setting it aside as he drug his hands down his face.

Your shoulders drop a fraction as you look down at your hands for a moment, foot tapping quietly against the floor. When you looked at him, his gaze was on the table, the inside of his cheek between his teeth. You bring your hand up to smooth over his hair before your palm settles on his cheek, thumb brushing over his chin. His eyes lift to yours, weary and upset.

You don’t fail to miss the way he leans into your touch no matter how subtle, or the way the clench in his jaw dissipates the rest of the way before your hand drops to your lap.

“There was nothing you could’ve done differently back there, De. No matter how much you think otherwise,” you say, watching that tension return as he looks away. “I know that’s what you’re thinking right now, but I’m still here. Now you don’t have to believe me on this, and I know you won’t, but you were there when I needed you the most. And that’s the only thing that matters to me. So you can be mad at yourself all you want, you can blame yourself all you want, but I’m not blaming this on you.”

He sat quietly, simmering in his own silence with closed eyes as his chest heaves a bit more than normal. You swipe your thumb across the crease between his brows, smoothing it softly as you watch the way he bites the inside of his cheek. Dean Winchester’s got a whole lot of stubbornness in him, but a whole lot of softness no matter how many layers of anger and frustration and worry sit atop it.

You move from the table after a beat of silence, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He relaxed under your embrace, more so when you dipped down from behind him and pressed a kiss on his cheek, one more for good measure.

You don’t know what to say for a little while as your head rests against his, arms dangling over his shoulders as you clasp your hands together loosely. You know for a fact he’s still beating himself up for this, that was something you knew was unavoidable. But that was something you could handle.

“Come to bed, De, it’s late,” you murmur, kissing his cheek once, twice, three times.

He hums at first, nodding his head. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

You let him go with a soft squeeze to his shoulders, spinning on your heel as you sigh softly. But it doesn’t take more than a mere few seconds before you hear him move around.

“Sweetheart, wait.”

You turn around once more, brow raised in curiosity.

He’s hesitant for a moment before he crosses the room in a couple of steps, arms around you in an instant. You wrap yours around his neck, his embrace near bone crushing as his face tucks into your neck. His stubble is rough against your skin, the softness of your smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. He’s got fistfuls of your shirt in his palms, holding you close as you stand up on your toes.

“What do you say we ditch hunting for a little while?” He mumbles into your neck, your soft laughter immediate as you lean back to look at him. “Don’t want you dyin’ on me again, sweetheart.”

You bit your cheek for a moment as you shook your head, fighting a smile. “You can’t get rid of me that easily, Winchester.”

He rolls his eyes, looking to the side as he fights the beginnings of his smile. “Yeah, well, I’m good with that.”

The tension he held minutes ago lessened some, his expression softer as he looked down at you. You lean on your toes and kiss him softly, lingering just over his lips for a few seconds before kissing him once more with a smile as you speak up.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

—

Tags: @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @elegantbutedgy @humanmistakes @campingmonkey @agalliasi @deandaydreaming @lanea-1 @akshi8278 @kidd3ath

#dean winchester #dean winchester angst #dean winchester oneshot #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x you

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soxcietyy · 2 years

Text

This is my first time doing this so please bare with me. I’m currently writing this in school on my phone during finals. Sorry for any grammar errors

18+

Cupcake

Hiding in the back of a bakery in the morning before opening was something quite absurd. It’s not something that consisted in your daily routine working there. You pelvic area rested on a counter while your leg was being held up by a strong pale arm that had thick veins around it.

Two of your wholes where currently being stuffed. Your mouth with a cupcake and your tight whole with his member. You could feel how it pounded in your body. You wondered how you got into this situation but then remembered as you saw Yuta’s warm smile looking down at you as he grabbed your throat firmly for you too look at him.

You where working as always in the back making goods too sell. The smell of fresh cookies hit you as you open the oven too pull them out. You set them to cool down and continue working on the cupcakes applying white frosting carefully. You where a well known bakery in the community of jujutsu sorcerers. They liked too come knowing they could be themselves and complain about theirs jobs to you. Meaning you had to open early because breakfast is the most important meal of the day.

The bell rang as someone entered the door. You groan in annoyance, it wasn’t opening time yet. You must of accidentally left it unlocked when you came in. You quickly put the frosting down and make your way to the front.

"Sorry we’re closed!" You say as you turn the corner to see Yuta standing there. You lift your brow confused seeing that he came so early.

"What’s up Yuta?" You say putting your apron on the bakery showcase.

He looked exhausted from the lack of sleep and jobs he’s been working recently.

"Can I get a coffee, please.." he says with a tired smile. You nod and run too the back knowing exactly his order by memory. Yuta was one of your classmates who always came here to visit you. But he looked like he had something on his mind.

You turn too look at him as the coffee machine did it’s job. "What’s wrong Yu?" You say worried. Since you’ve never seen his so distressed.

"Oh it’s nothing I’m just having these night terrors lately. I rather stay wake then have them." He looks behind you too the coffee Machine that was pouring the brown substance into his cup.

Poor boy can’t get any good rest. But he couldn’t possibly never sleep. If that where the case he would of gone crazy.

"Do your ever have good dreams?" You ask out of curiosity.

He chuckles and nods, "yes I have y/n". He comes closer too you and grabs your hand gently. "They consist of me and you having fun." He kisses your hand and looks at you too see your blushing face.

"What type of fun?" You look at him.

"Is my dear y/n curious about it? You know curiosity killed the cat" he smirks at you. "It’s better for me to show you than saying it. So you can understand why it’s a good dream."

You nod understanding and follow his lead to the back. You lean on the counter as he caressed your body. His hand slowly going up and down your waist as he held you. You wince as he gives you kisses on your neck. "Yuta is this part of your dream?" You ask as he takes your top off.

"It’s just the beginning." He says as he leans in to give you a kiss on the lips. You feel as his hands grope your breast. His soft lips pressing all over you now making sure to not leave anything untouched. His other hand snaked around your waist and pull your bottoms down making you gasp.

"Shhh" he says assuring you it was okay. His finger played with the waist band of your panties following the lace all the way to your sensitive area. His cold fingers pressed onto the warm fabric and start rubbing against your clit. You squirm at his touch as he slowly increased his speed.

"Y-Yuta" you whine. You hear him chuckle in amusement on how soaked your panties could get from just that. He turns you around making you stand on your tip toes and wait patiently. You hear how he unbuckled his belt and zips his pants down. How he spread your cheeks to take a good look at you. You became edger not having the patients to wait any longer you just wanted to have him inside of you.

"Now be a good girl and stay silent, you don’t want your customers to hear how you take my cock now." He says as he lines his member with your entrance. You nod and take a deep breath as he shoves himself in without warning. You gasp feeling him stretch you out. Their was no way you could stay silent with something that big. He went in and out a few times causing you to moan loudly.

"We’ll this is going to be troubling… here," he grabs a cupcake from the counter and shoved it in your mouth.

"Good girl" he smirked as he took some frosting from the cupcake and licked it. Then proceeded to fuck you with no intentions of letting you open up anytime soon.

"You better tell everyone sorry for not opening up in the morning, sorry I was getting my small pussy pounded I’ll make sure to open on time from how on" Yuta spanked you making you jolt.

"Let’s practice shall we?" He said as he quickened his pace.

I ended this 6 days after my finals ;-;

#yuta okkotsu #jujutsu kaisen #jjk scenarios #smut #yuta okkotsu x reader #yuta okkotsu x you #jjk #jjk smut #yuta oneshot #jjk second years #jjk x y/n #jjk inumaki #gojo saturo #toji fushiguro #megumi fushiguro #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen 0 #jjk movie

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waitimcomingtoo · 3 years

Text

Trial Run

Part one and three

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader enemies to lovers!

Synopsis: last week you hated each other, this week you’re making out in his bed.

Masterlist

Since you and Peter weren’t exactly friends before, you didn’t have each other’s numbers. You had no way of communicating with him once you went home. Meaning, you had no idea what you’d be walking in to on Monday. All you knew was you made out with your former rival. You didn’t know what it meant to him; you barely knew what it meant to you. So when you saw him at the lockers upon entering school, you had to brace yourself.

You walked up to your locker and kept your head straight as you unlocked it. You could feel Peter’s eyes on you, just as you could feel him fumbling for words to say.

“Hey.” You said casually without looking over at him. You were doing your best to play it cool, when you were internally freaking out around him.

“Hey.” Peter said immediately, overly excited that you were the first to speak. “How are you? Um, how was your weekend?”

“Good.” You said simply. “How was yours?”

“Good.” Peter nodded. He stared at you for a minute as he worked up the courage to say something better.

“I thought about you a lot.” He said quietly, adverting his eyes so he wouldn’t lose his nerve. You sucked in a sharp breath, hating how easily he could fluster you.

“Did you now?” You asked without looking at him.

“Yeah.” He smiled shyly. “I really liked it when you kissed me.”

You couldn’t help smiling at his words, despite you trying to fight it. You looked at him, saw his signature shit eating grin, and rolled your eyes.

“I liked it too.” You said quietly, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

“Okay, good.” He nodded happily. “We’re on the same page.”

“I guess we are.” You looked at him as you shut your locker.

“In that case, do you want to be my girlfriend?” He asked hopefully as he twisted his shirt around his fingers. For once, you found his nervous behavior to be cute. You wanted to say yes, but you had to make sure he was all in first.

“Not yet.” You decided. “I said I’d be willing to give this a try. I can’t commit to anything until I know what kind of boyfriend you’d make.”

“How can I prove to you that I’d be a good boyfriend?” Peter wondered. You pursed your lips as you thought about it, not having thought that far ahead. You looked down at the books in your arms and held them out to him.

“Carry my books.” You instructed.

“Okay.” Peter took your books from you and walked with you when you moved.

“I like old fashioned romantic gestures.” You explained as you walked together. “Carrying books, opening the door, asking the father for permission to date, things like that. I want a gentleman. I wouldn’t date anything less.”

“Okay.” Peter nodded as he made a metal note. “I can be a gentleman.”

“Walk faster.” You commanded, and he picked up his pace. “I don’t just want you to be a gentleman though. You have to be rough with me sometimes. Tell me when I’m being ridiculous and shut me up with a kiss every now and then.”

“Nice. I finally know a way to shut you up.” Peter joked.

“Cute.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “I’m telling you all of this now because I think communication is the most important thing in a relationship. This is what I want in a relationship. If you can’t give it to me, then we’ll just be friends. No harm done.”

“Okay. Gentleman, kisses, books. I can do this.” Peter hyped himself up.

“Good.” You smiled and stopped walking. “So what are your conditions for a relationship?”

“I don’t know if I have any.” Peter realized. “I’ve never been in a a relationship before.”

“Well what do you want from me?” You asked him. Peter thought about it for a minute before making a decision.

“Can I hold your hand?” He asked, and you fought back a smile at his innocence. You looked down at his free hand and frowned suddenly as something dawned on you.

“Are you still gonna like me if I start being nice to you?” You asked without looking at him.

“What?” He asked. “Of course I will.”

“I don’t know.” You shook your head. “What if you had some underlying degradation kink that I was fueling? And if I stop being mean to you, you’ll stop liking me.”

“I liked you before you were mean to me.” Peter assured. “And I don’t have that kink. At least, I don’t think I do.”

You looked at him for a minute, unsure of what you wanted.

“I don’t want to start this if you’re gonna break my heart.” You said quietly.

“Hey.” He said comfortingly. “I won’t do that. I’ve never broken a girls heart before.”

“Didn’t you say you’ve never been in a relationship before?”

“Yes.” He realized. “But even if I had, I wouldn’t have broken anyones heart. Not on purpose, at least. You have just as much of a chance of breaking mine.”

“I’ll try not to.” You smiled a little.

“I would appreciate that.” He told you. Your smile widened as you fell just a little bit more for Peter. You let out a dramatic sigh and looked up at the ceiling.

“You can hold my hand.” You said like it was inconvenient for you.

“I appreciate that even more.” Peter grinned as he took your hand. You continued walking to class, hand in hand.

You reached your classroom and stood outside of it, hesitant to go inside. You’d only ever sat in that class as Peter’s rival, and now you guys were almost dating. You looked at him holding your books and squeezed his hand gently.

“Just so you know, I want this to work.” You told him honestly. Peter’s cheeks turned pink as he gave you a small nod.

“I do too.”

“Good.” You smiled. “Now get inside. I don’t like being late.”

You and Peter walked into the classroom hand and hand with his books still in his arms. Before you could take a seat, your teacher stopped you.

“Wow.” She folded her arms and smirked. “It looks like my plan worked.”

“I’m sorry?” You asked.

“Making you guys partners seems to have paid off.” She pointed to your books in Peter’s arms.

“Peter was just taking a break from his usually monkey brained self to do something polite.” You stammered.

“And Y/n couldn’t carry her books because she’s too busy carrying the weight of being the most obnoxious person in this part of New York.” Peter followed up.

“Mhm.” She nodded. “And the hand holding?”

“It was his idea.” You said at the same time as Peter said, “She let me.”

“Right.” She clicked her tongue. “Take a seat you two.”

You and Peter took your usual seats and kept quiet the entire class. The rest of the class was quick to notice the absence of the typical taunting banter that usually occurred between you and Peter. In its place, much to everyone’s surprise, was your dangling hands holding each other’s under the desks. His left hand was reaching forward while yours was reaching back, meeting in the middle and staying that way throughout the period. You didn’t know why you let him hold you hand the entire time. He didn’t know either. All you knew was you liked the feeling of his hand in yours.

At lunch time, you found yourself walking towards Peter’s table instead of sitting with your other friends. You had no idea why you wanted to sit with him, but you felt yourself missing him throughout your classes. You silently put your lunch down next to him and began to eat. Peter and Ned exchanged a look and Peter nearly choked on his food.

“You’re sitting here?” Peter asked with a mouth full of food.

“Is there a problem?” You asked as you looked between him and Ned.

“No.” Peter shook his head. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m happy to see you.”

“Shut up, loser.” You snickered as you leaned into him. He leaned back before wrapping an arms around your shoulders. Ned stared at the two of you in shock, usually accustomed to you going at each other’s throats. When Peter told him you’d kissed, he thought he was kidding.

“So are you guys like a couple now?” Ned asked, interrupting the moment. Peter didn’t know how to answer, so he looked to you.

“We’re giving it a test run.” You shrugged. “For now, we’re just casually dating.”

“When will you know if you want to be a couple?” Ned continued.

“I kinda had the same question.” Peter said sheepishly. You thought about it for minute, not exactly sure of your answer.

“Tell you what.” You decided. “If I ever look at you and feel an overwhelming need to kiss you, thats when I’ll know.”

“Okay.” Peter nodded. “I can work with that.”

“So how’s your project going Ned?” You asked as you changed the subject.

“Well, Gwen and I haven’t started dating, so not as good as yours.” He joked.

“Yeah, well. She’s missing out.” You winked at him.

“Not really.” Ned shrugged. “I’m exactly like Peter, just without the abs.”

“And I’m like Ned without the beautiful Hawaiian complexion.” Peter complimented back.

“Woah. Didn’t realize sitting here meant I’d be third wheeling on your date.” You joked.

“You’re not.” Peter didn’t get the joke. “You can sit here whenever you want.”

“Not that I care”, you prefaced ‘“but did you say Peter had abs? As in defined abdominal muscles?”

“Yeah.” Ned nodded as Peter’s face went red. You looked at him with a knowing smile and he knew exactly what you were thinking.

“Don’t.” He warned you.

“I knew you were on steroids!” You said excitedly. “I called it and I was right.”

“I am not on steroids.” Peter whined.

“I knew it.” You insisted. “Your arms got bigger practically overnight and now you have abs?”

“I work out.” Peter lied.

“No you don’t.” You snorted.

“I’m Spider-Man.” He tried again.

“I’d believe you work out before I’d believe that.” You told him, much to his relief.

“Then I guess we’ll never know.” He shrugged, sneaking a knowing glance at Ned. “Do you want to come over later? We can continue working on the project.”

“Sure.” You shrugged, feeling nervous butterflies in your tummy. “I’ll meet you by the lockers after the last bell.”

“Don’t be late.” He smiled.

“Don’t tell me what to do.” You deadpanned, making his smile fall.

“I’m just kidding.” You smiled. “God, you’re so gullible.”

“You don’t like to make things easy, do you?” Peter joked as he leaned on his hand to stare at you. The way he was looking at you sent a wave of butterflies into your tummy, causing you to look away.

“Hm.” You grinned. “No I do not.”

“Hey May.” Peter called as he set his keys down by the door. Your heart rate quickened when you heard footsteps coming into the room.

“Hey, Peter. How was your -oh! Hello.” May stopped short when she noticed you standing behind him.

“Hi, Miss Parker. I’m Y/n.” You introduced yourself since you didn’t meet her last time you were over.

“You’re Y/n?” May asked. “The one from your physics class?”

“Yeah. Peter and I have a few classes together actually.”

“Is this the one you called a b-“

“Beautiful, sweet Angel.” Peter cut her off and smiled at you. “Yes, this is her.”

“Oh.” She was surprised. “Hi. You can call me May.”

“It’s nice to meet you, May.” You smiled as you shook her hand.

“You too. Wow.” She laughed. “You’re nothing like I pictured.”

“May.” Peter said warningly.

“What?” She asked. “The way you described her, I figured she had horns and a little tail.”

“Oh, I do.” You nodded. “I just hide them well.”

“Peter.” May said pointedly. “She’s not nearly as bad as you told me. What are you guys doing here anyway?”

“We have a group project.” He said.

“We’re also dating.” You followed up. Peter looked at you in pleasant surprised, feeling very happy that you said that.

“Finally.” May scoffed. “I knew you liked her. No one whines that much about a girl he doesn’t like.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Peter rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“Well, I’ll leave you guys to it.” May said. “Do you guys need anything before I go? Snacks? Drinks? Condoms?”

“We’ll take some condoms.” You said casually. May raised her eyebrows as Peter choked on his saliva.

“Kidding.” You said through an awkward smile. “That was a joke. Thank you, though.”

“We’re gonna go to my room now.” Peter quickly ushered you out of the room. “Bye May!”

“It was nice meeting you!” You called as he pushed you into his room. As soon as his door was closed, you put your hands on your hips.

“You told you aunt I was a bitch.” You pointed at him accusingly.

“No.” Peter pointed back at you. “I told her you were a brat.”

“Oh.” You relaxed. “Well that’s not that bad.”

“Is that a deal breaker?” Peter worried. “I kinda told her we hate each other.”

“Peter, you have to stop being so worried about messing this up.” You said as you rubbed his arms. “I told you, I want this to work. You have to relax a little.”

“Okay.” He sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m just having a hard time believing you like me back.”

“I like you some of the time.” You shrugged before cracking a smile.

“Hey.” He whined.

“I’m teasing.” You told him. “I’m just getting used to being nice to you. If it makes you feel better, I’m starting to like you a lot more.”

“I guess that does make me feel better.” He mumbled.

“Good.” You smiled and patted his cheek. “Now stop whining about it, brat.”

“You’re the brat.” He scoffed playfully as he put his hand over yours. You sucked in a breath at how close you were, hearing your heartbeat in your ears. Peter’s eyes fell to your lips before going back to your eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked softly.

“Shut the fuck up.” You matched his soft tone with a harsh one.

“Okay.” He backed up. “Sorry.”

“I’m kidding.” You assured him as you pulled him back to you. “You can kiss me.”

He rolled his eyes at you before cracking a smile.

“You’re mean.” He mumbled as he put his hands on your face.

“Yeah, but you like that.” You whispered as you leaned up to kiss him. He pulled your closer by your face as you slid your hands under his shirt. He was a surprisingly good kisser for someone who had never been in a relationship before, and you wanted to test his limits. You dragged your fingernails down his stomach and just as Ned told you, he had abs. He groaned at the unfamiliar feeling and began to move backwards. You followed him until you both fell on the bed. Peter rolled on top of you and continued kissing you, slipping his fingers through yours to hold your hands. You licked his bottom lip and he took the hint to open his mouth. His kisses were clumsy and awkward, but you absolutely loved them. You made out on his bed just like last time, your project long forgotten. Neither of you had any idea how much time had passed before you both collapsed on his bed to catch your breath. You rolled over and rested your head on Peter’s chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat beneath you. You rested your hand on his stomach, mindlessly playing with the soft material of his sweater.

“Hm.” You pouted as Peter wrapped an arm around you and rubbed your shoulder with his thumb.

“What’s wrong?” He wondered.

“I really like you.” You realized as you made a disgusted face.

“Is that a bad thing?” He chuckled.

“Yes!” You exclaimed. “I don’t want to have feelings. Especially not for you. We’re supposed to be enemies but…”

“But what?” Peter asked when you trailed off.

“But I never want to leave this bed.” You mumbled as you you held him closer. Peter laughed again and kissed the top of your head.

“It’s okay.” He insisted. “I really like you too.”

“Gross.”

“If I have to stop worrying about messing this up, you have to stop worrying about letting this happen.” He reasoned. “It’s okay that we like each other. I didn’t see it coming either.”

You let out a sigh and gazed up at him.

“I hate when you’re right.” You mumbled.

“You’re gonna have to get used to that.” He told you as he stroked your face.

“Why would I get used to something that only happens once a month?” You asked. He gave you a look so you smiled.

“Kidding.” You told him. “We can still bully each other, right? Or does that have to stop if we’re dating.”

“It depends. You said you need communication, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” He nodded. “I don’t like it when you make jokes about me being on steroids. I’m scared people are going to believe you and then I’m gonna have to pee in a cup in front of the principle. I’m very pee shy.”

“Thank you for letting me know.” You laughed. “I won’t make those jokes anymore.”

“What about me?” He asked. “What’s off limits?”

“Well unlike you, I can take a joke, so nothing is off limits for me.” You shrugged, always taking the opportunity to tease him.

“Hardy har.” He said sarcastically.

“Actually, wait.” You thought of something. “Don’t call me a bitch. Brat is fine but bitch crosses the line.”

“That’s easy.” He said. “I only ever called you that in my head anyway.”

You gave him a look and he laughed.

“Kidding.” He mimicked your voice. “You have my word. I won’t ever call you that.”

“All right.” You sighed in content. “I feel better now.”

“Does this mean I can start calling you my girlfriend?” Peter asked.

“Not yet.” You decided. “I haven’t decided if I want to do this for real yet. I’m still weighing my options.”

“Okay.” He nodded. “Take your time. No pressure.”

“Well that makes it sound like you don’t care either way.” You whined as you sat up.

“I do. I do care.” He assured you as he sat up. “But I don’t want to rush you. I really want to give this a try, but only if you do too.”

You looked at him for a while as you processed what he said.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He wondered.

“You’re making it really hard to justify not liking you all these years.” You told him, and he couldn’t help but smile.

“Good.” He shrugged. “I want you to like me.”

“I got my heart broken pretty badly in the past.” You whispered. “Because I liked someone a little too much.”

“I already told you, I’m not gonna break your heart. I’m not like that.”

Your lips tweaked into a smile before you leaned in to kiss him.

“You better not be.”

You continued casually dating Peter throughout the week, getting closer to telling him you wanted to be his girlfriend every day. He carried your books for you, opened your door, and shut you up with kisses, just like you asked. By Friday, you were ready to make it official. You found him in the hallway between classes but before you could tell him what you decided on, he started to speak.

“What are you doing after school today?” He asked as he bounced on his heels.

“Volunteer Club was cancelled so nothing.” You answered. “Why?”

“I want to take you somewhere.” He explained. “But it’s a surprise.”

“I knew it.” You shook your head. “I knew you and your cult were gonna kill me.”

“There is no cult.” He huffed. “Just meet me here after school, okay?”

“Okay.” You looked at him skeptically as he broke out into a grin. “But what-“

Peter cut you off with a kiss before telling you, “It’s a surprise! No more questions.”

He quickly scurried away before you could ask him anything else, leaving you a blushing mess in the hallway.

After school, you walked with Peter’s hands over your eyes to an unknown location. The walk was pretty far and his hands we’re starting to get sweaty on your face. If you didn’t like him so much, you would have complained.

“Okay.” Peter announced. “We’re here. You can look.”

Peter uncovered your eyes and let you look around. When you realized he had brought you to a cemetery, you looked at him for answers.

“I was doing a little research, I hope you don’t mind.” He prefaced. “This lot is closest to the Grey Sloan Memorial hospital, so it’s where they put most of their car crash victims.”

“Yeah.” You nodded as you kept your eyes ahead. “I know.”

“This is where they buried your parents, right?” He asked quietly. You looked at him, impressed that he was able to find out where they were, and nodded.

“Yeah.” You said softly. “It is.”

“Can you take me to them?” He asked politely. You opened your mouth to speak, but found no words. Instead, you took Peter’s hand and lead him to your parents graves.

There was a pile of roses laid in front of the headstones, all in different stages of decomposition. Peter took his backpack off his shoulders and pulled out two roses. He handed one to you and kept the other in his hand. Before you could say anything, Peter got down on one knee in front of the headstone.

“Mr. and Mrs. L/n, it’s an honor to meet you.” He began. “My name is Peter Parker. I’m sure Y/n has complained about me a few times to you guys. I’ve definitely given her a lot to complain about.”

You chuckled at his words as tears came to your eyes. You thought what he was doing was sweet, if a little morbid. You knew his intentions were pure and that’s what mattered.

“I came here today for two reasons. The first was to meet the parents of the most unpredictable, intelligent, and beautiful person I have ever met. She’s also super annoying. Like, you would not believe how annoying this girl is.” He joked. “Or I guess, maybe you would. In my opinion, she gets a little easier to endure everyday.”

Peter looked back at you to see if you were still listening, and you gave him a thumbs up.

“My other reason for coming here was to formally ask you for permission to date your daughter.” He continued. “I know it’s ultimately her decision, but she likes old fashioned romantic gestures. So here I am, asking for your blessing.”

You covered your mouth with your hand as happy tears fell from your eyes. Not only had Peter remembered what you listed off to him, he followed through with the most thoughtful romantic gesture you’d been given. He turned around again to look at you, shielding his eyes from the setting sun.

“They’re kinda quiet.” Peter joked. “Do you think they said yes?”

“Peter?” You said weakly.

“Yes?”

“I’m feeling that overwhelming need to kiss you right about now.” You told him with a tearful smile.

“I bet you are, loser. Can you give me a minute? I’m in the middle of a conversation.” He rolled his eyes before turning back to the headstone. “So, you guys enjoying the weather?”

You let out a laugh and wiped your face free of tears.

“Peter. Stand up right now.”

Peter obliged and stood up to face you.

“You said you liked romantic gestures.” He began to apologize. “It was either this or I pull out a ouija board and-“

You cut Peter off by throwing your arms around him and kissing him. He kissed you back immediately, stabilizing you as you stumbled into him. Something inexplicable made this kiss feel different from the last ones. This time, you were letting yourself feel everything you wanted to feel for Peter.

“Wait.” You pulled away suddenly and held him back from you.

“What’s wrong?” He worried.

“I don’t want to get caught making out with my boyfriend in a graveyard.” You told him. “That’s too weird. Even for you.”

“You called me your boyfriend.” Peter smiled happily, ignoring everything you said except that.

“Did I?” You played dumb. “I didn’t even notice.”

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natsfirecat · 3 years

Text

Cold

summary: r has always liked having pyrokinesis, but after getting into trouble, she leans onto natasha for support (i’m sorry that is an awful summary fhjkdsf)

Part Two

pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem reader

word count: 5k

warnings: swearing, needles, kidnapping, mentions of arson, lmk if i need to add any more!

A/N: this is gonna have multiple parts btw! i’m planning on 3 parts, but it could be more than that haha. also, since i’ve written a lot of pyrokinetic reader x natasha, feel free to imagine this taking place in any of those universes. preferably not the operation fire widow/bring you back universe. nat and r have been through enough there- but i imagine it in the you saved me universe!

You huffed out a sigh as you took in your surroundings. It was completely dark except for the small, irritating light in the corner. There was a pain in your arm, you felt a poke, and assumed it was an IV.

You tried to use your powers to get out of here, you tried to create a light, you tried to burn the ropes holding you to the chair, but nothing worked. Probably a result of the IV.

You were here because of a stupid decision you thought was right at the time.

You were fighting in the middle of the city, HYDRA decided that they wanted to make a scene. Mid-battle, you noticed a HYDRA agent carrying a child who was screaming and thrashing. No one else seemed to notice, they were all busy fighting.

You couldn’t ignore it, you couldn’t let them take a child. So, you made a large blast of fire, hoping that would prevent anyone else from following and attacking you as you went after the kid.

Looking back now, you should’ve at least gone on coms and told the team what you were doing. But you weren’t thinking straight at the moment. You just kept running until you reached them.

It wasn’t like you could send fire at them like you had before; you couldn’t risk hitting the kid.

So there you stood, coming up from behind to knock him down.

As soon as you lay a hand on him however, you let out a gasp of pain as something sharp poked your neck.

As your vision began to fade, you looked down to see the child staring at you with a guilty expression as he held the syringe.

You fell to your knees, hearing nothing but laughter from the man.

That was two days ago. And that was what got you into this situation. You weren’t sure if anyone even saw you go after him, so for all they knew you just disappeared out of the blue.

Guilt began to consume you as you thought about your girlfriend, Natasha.

She knew you were strong and could look out for yourself, but that didn’t stop her from completely freaking out every time you were injured. You could only imagine what was going through her mind now.

At the compound, Natasha began pacing back and forth around the living room. Everyone was seated there, wanting to talk about the mission and your disappearance.

“How could none of us have seen her?” She asked, making eye contact with each and every one of her teammates.

“Where could she have gone?”

“Who took her?”

Before she could talk any more, Clint stood up and put his arms around her to stop her from pacing.

“We’re gonna find her, Nat,”

She let out a defeated sigh, collapsing onto her friend.

“I’ve got satellites looking, FRIDAY is hacking into every street camera, we will find her,” Tony assured her, standing up.

She managed to give him a nod before leaving and making her way back up to her bedroom she shared with you.

Once the door closed, she collapsed onto the bed, clinging onto your pillow as tight as she could.

She had spent two nights without you by your side, she had barely gotten any sleep.

She missed the feeling of wrapping her arms around you while you clung onto her like a koala. She missed waking up next to you, placing a few kisses on your forehead.

She just missed you.

Of course, you had spent nights away from each other on missions and stuff. But this time, she had no idea where you were and when she would be waking up with you again. That just made everything worse.

One of the perks of having a pyrokinetic girlfriend was that she was never cold anymore. Sometimes you would hold your hands over hers, using your powers to warm them up. Or sometimes she would cup your cheeks to gather up the heat you were radiating. If she was really cold, you would wrap your arms around you as she would completely bury herself in you. Even after she was warmed up, it would usually just turn into a cuddle session of holding one another close.

She hugged the pillow even tighter, so desperately wishing it was you. She didn’t even realize she was crying until she noticed how wet the pillow was.

Letting out a long sigh, Natasha pulled all the blankets she had gathered over her, flipping the pillow over.

No matter how many blankets she had, none of them were able to give her the warmth you had.

Without you, she was just cold.

Another day passed before something finally changed. The lights were turned on, and you were given more water than before, and you were actually given some food.

You noticed the person walking in was the boy you were trying to save, but ended up stabbing you with the needle.

“Hello,” he said, placing the food tray down next to you.

“Hi,” you replied flatly.

As he headed for the door again, he made eye contact. Your heart dropped at how apologetic he looked.

“What’s your name?” You asked.

“Henry,”

“What’s a boy like you doing here, Henry?”

He shrugged before turning back and taking a few steps closer to you.

“It’s just the life of someone who’s dad is big in HYDRA and decided to get full custody after killing your mom,”

Your heart dropped, this boy couldn’t have been more than 10 and he had already lost so much.

“I’m sorry,” you told him.

“Why? It’s not like you killed her,”

You sighed before noticing the sadness in his eyes and the tears threatening to fall.

“Do you want to talk about her?” You offered. He thought for a moment,

“Maybe, but I can’t right now, I have to leave. But I’ll come back tomorrow,”

“Okay, bye Henry.”

“Bye!”

As promised, he did arrive the next day. He came in with a smile on his face before setting your food down.

“Hello!”

“Hi,”

You reached out to grab food, but winced as you moved your arm, remembering the needle in your arm. So you reached over with your other hand instead.

“Do you know what the heck they’re putting in me?”

He shakes his head no,

“It takes away your powers, but that’s all I know. I did hear someone say that they plan on changing the needle tomorrow,”

“So what other stuff do you hear?”

“It’s just bits and pieces,”

You let out a sigh as he reached up to grab some of your food. You held your good hand up to stop him.

“Kid, I’m the hostage here. I know you’re getting fed better than me. So unless you plan on giving me some of your food in exchange, hands off,”

Henry sighed, then pulled his hand back and sat down again.

“What’s it like?” He asked after a few moments of silence.

“What’s what like?”

“Everything. Being an Avenger, having powers, fighting people,”

You laughed at his excitement,

“Being an Avenger has its perks, it’s always nice saving the world every once in a while. The powers are nice too. I remember the first time I made fire appear in thin air, it was one of the best feelings in the world. I can make myself really warm, which works out perfect for Nat-” you stopped yourself as you thought about her.

Your face fell, thinking about your girlfriend and how much you missed her.

He turned his head to the side at your expression.

“Why are you sad?” He asked. “Do you miss your powers?”

“Yeah,” you answered quickly. “I just miss my pyrokinesis. Whatever you’ve got in here is really effective,”

“They’re still gonna make you go to sleep tomorrow, in case your powers come back when they change the needle. Why do they change needles anyway?”

“To prevent infections,”

“Oh,”

He sat there criss-crossed, holding his hands in his lap while moving his thumbs around. You noticed that he looked slightly happier today compared to yesterday.

“Who’s your favorite Avenger?” He asked.

“Black Widow,”

“Why? She doesn’t have any powers! She just fights,”

“Exactly. She’s just as important to the team as the rest of us without powers, that just makes her even more impressive. She holds us together, we would be lost without her,”

He gave you a mischievous smile as he observed the way you talked about her.

“Do you have a crush on Black Widow?”

You scoffed at the young boy. There was no way in hell you would be discussing your relationship status with him.

“What about you, Kid? Who’s your favorite Avenger?”

“Spider-Man. He’s so cool how he swings across buildings! And he has super strength!”

You smiled at him. You would most definitely be telling Peter about his young fan.

“He’s pretty cool,”

He smiled for a few moments, before turning back around and facing the door.

“I should probably go,” he said, his voice dropping. “I don’t want him to find out. I’ll come by again after they change the needle!”

“Alright,” you said. You were sad he was leaving, you had been enjoying his company, but you completely understood his worries.

He waved goodbye, then left the room feeling better than he had when he walked in. He would be back soon to talk with his new friend.

“I’ve got her!” Tony said as he stood up from his desk. “I know where she is!”

“I’ll get everyone ready,” Steve replied, leaving to make the announcement.

Natasha changed into her suit faster than she ever had before. Now that they knew where you were, she wanted to get to you as fast as they possibly could.

So she was the first to meet Steve and Tony outside the Quinjet.

Her expression was emotionless, but they both knew she had so many thoughts and feelings running through her mind right now.

Wanda was the next one out, taking her spot in between Steve and Natasha. She was almost as nervous as Natasha.

Soon enough, the rest of the Avengers all made their way down and were ready to go.

Clint had to physically restrain Natasha to stop her from pacing mid-flight. He knew she was scared, but what she was doing wasn’t helping.

She made eye contact with Wanda, then felt a few tears threatening to form. She took a deep breath in, then restrained her tears.

She finally let out the breath as she felt her best friend hug her.

It would be okay eventually, but for now all that mattered was getting you back.

“What’s that noise?” You asked, jerking up.

“I’m not sure,” Henry said, looking up too.

As soon as the others left your room, he ran in and stayed by your side until you woke up. He was hoping for another day of fun conversations, but he had a feeling that wouldn’t be happening now.

“You should get out of here, don’t let them catch you like this,”

He thought for a moment, then looked back out the door. An alarm went off, and he recognized the signal it was sending.

“Your friends are here for you,”

You let out a sigh of relief.

“Do me a favor and pull the needle out? It’ll be better to have it out sooner now that they’re here,”

He hesitantly held his hand over the needle, his breath hitched as soon as he touched your arm.

“You can do it, Henry. Just pull it out as fast as you can,”

His breaths became shaky as he grabbed the tip of the needle.

“I’ll count down for you,” you said as he nodded. “One… two… three!”

Just as he pulled it out, he let out a scream at the sound of a gunshot from right outside the room.

The door opened, and there stood Natasha.

She no longer had the glow in her eyes, or the softness on her face she normally had around you. In fact, you would be terrified of her if she wasn’t here to save you.

Your face fell as you saw she still had her gun raised.

“Don’t hurt him!” You yelled, holding your hand out protectively over him.

She said nothing, but walked over to you, wrapping her arms around you while holding you up.

She brought a hand to your cheek, stroking it gently for a moment while keeping her other arm around your back.

You leaned forward, then rested your forehead against hers as she held you.

“Uh, guys,” Henry interrupted your moment. “You should probably get out of here,”

You nodded, then looked out the door Natasha came from.

“I’ll buy you some time!” He offered.

You thought for a minute, your gaze shifting between him and Natasha.

“I’ll come back for you,” you told him. “Be careful!”

“Don’t worry about me! Just go!”

You nodded, then completely leaned onto Natasha. Your arm was still sore, and your legs could barely hold you considering you had hardly moved them for a few days.

Luckily for you, your assassin girlfriend was really strong and had no problem picking you up and carrying you as you wrapped yourself around her.

She was easily able to run through the halls, holding you with one hand and holding her gun with the other.

You buried your face in her neck, wanting to hide from everything going on around you. She heard you whimper, then tightened her grip on you.

It felt like it had taken forever, but eventually you were outside again. You finally opened your eyes when you heard the familiar sound of the Quinjet engine.

Natasha never left your side, keeping an arm wrapped around you as she set you down.

It had only taken a few minutes for everyone else to get back after Natasha told them she had you, taking out a few HYDRA agents along the way.

Steve’s gaze softened when he saw the state you were in. He was about to say something before Natasha met him with a harsh glare. You needed to rest after what just happened.

“It’s okay, baby,” she whispered to you, finally letting her softness return. “You can rest now. You’re okay.”

When you opened your eyes again, you were in a hospital bed back at the compound. Natasha sat in the chair next to you, one hand over yours while the other was holding her head up as she slept.

On the other side, Bruce and Dr. Cho were talking to each other about your condition.

“Y/N,” Dr. Cho said as she met your eyes.

Her voice woke Natasha up, who immediately gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

You turned to face your girlfriend, extending both arms out to her.

“Lay with me,”

Natasha looked at the two doctors, as if asking for permission. Once they told her it was fine, she pulled the sheets down and crawled next to you. She began to completely drown their voices out as she ran her fingers up and down your arm, drawing small patterns on your shoulder. Ever so often, she would lean forward and plant a kiss on the back of your neck.

“How long was I out?” You asked.

“Almost 24 hours. The stress of the situation, plus what they were putting in you definitely called for rest.”

“So, am I gonna be okay?”

“Yes,” Bruce said. “However, we’re looking into what they were injecting you with. It definitely had to do with your powers, so it’s best if you don’t use them for a few days.”

You nodded, then turned back around to face Natasha.

“You’re cold,” she said as you wrapped your arms around her. “That’s a first,”

“Don’t worry,” Bruce assured both of you. “You’ll be warm and pyrokinetic again in no time.”

Later that evening, you were on Natasha’s lap with a blanket covering both of you. She hadn’t left your side the entire day, apart from when you needed to use the bathroom. Even then, she stood right outside the door waiting for you to come back out.

“Natty,” you said to her. She removed her lips from your neck, then planted a kiss on your cheek instead. She hummed, waiting for your response as she continued littering kisses all over your face.

“I don’t want to go back there,”

“You don’t have to. You never do,”

“Yes I do. I promised Henry I would come back for him.”

“The same boy who shoved a syringe in your neck?” She said, eyebrows raised. “Tony was able to get footage,”

You sighed as she kissed your neck once again.

“It’s a lot more complicated than that,” you began. “He told me all about how his dad is a big part of HYDRA, and he killed his mom.”

“Y/N, I love you, but you have to know that there’s a high chance he was lying about all that.”

“Then why would he tell us that he’d buy us time when he left?”

“Probably just saying whatever it took for me not to kill him. It’s awful, but he was probably recruited at such a young age so they use that to their advantage.”

“Oh come on, Natty,” you said. You turned around and straddled her waist so you could face her. “Shouldn’t you have more sympathy for him? Especially considering where you were at his age,”

She thought for a moment, then pulled the blanket up closer.

“Maybe I’m a little biased because he’s part of the reason you were taken,”

You sighed, then leaned forward and rested your head on her chest. You’d get through to her eventually, but for now all you wanted to do was lay in her arms.

You huffed out a sigh as you pushed all the blankets off of you. That was something you definitely hadn’t gotten used to, and you couldn’t wait to take them all off the bed.

Natasha chuckled at your frustration, then sat up and smiled at you.

“Good morning, detka,”

You grumbled again, but couldn’t help but smile at the way your girlfriend was looking at you.

“It’s been three days of this shit,” you said as you sat up. “As soon as we go to Bruce today and get cleared, I will burn some of these. God, you have no idea how much I’ve missed setting things on fire,”

She laughed, then tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“So my sweet little girlfriend just wants to go commit arson? Tell me again why you’re an Avenger?”

“You know what I meant!”

She laughed again, which prompted you to throw a pillow at her.

“You’re gonna regret that, detka,”

“Will I?”

She stared at you for a few moments, a mischievous smile on her face as you smirked at her.

You let out a squeal as she suddenly pounced at you, knocking you back down. She placed several kisses on your face, but her hands also found their way under your shirt and onto your stomach.

You let out another squeal as she began ticking you, moving her hands up and down as you began to let out uncontrollable laughter.

“Natty, stop!” You begged between giggles.

She stopped for a moment, still smiling at you.

“Are you gonna throw a pillow at me again?”

You hesitated for a moment, and that was enough for her to move her hands again.

You nearly screamed as she continued tickling you. This only made her smile more.

“How about now?” She asked. “Will you throw a pillow at me again?”

“No! I promise!”

She seemed satisfied, then removed her hands from your body as she gave your forehead a quick kiss.

“Let’s go get ready for your checkup,” she said, then smiled again. “And then my baby can get back her ability to commit arson with her mind,”

You rolled your eyes, but followed her out of bed.

After getting changed, you held her hand as you made your way back to medical. You couldn’t help but feel nervous and anxious the entire walk there.

Bruce was waiting for you as you sat on the exam table. Natasha stayed standing, but kept her hand attached to yours.

“We’re gonna need to take a blood sample,” he told you.

You nodded, but squeezed Natasha’s hand tighter. You had always hated needles, and your previous experience definitely didn’t help.

As he inserted the needle in your arm, you closed your eyes and kept your tight hold on your girlfriend’s hand.

She hated seeing you like this. She hated that you even had to go through this in the first place.

Her hand was beginning to hurt from the amount of force you were squeezing her, but she didn’t flinch at all. She just kept her eyes on you, making sure you were okay as Bruce got the blood sample he needed.

When he took the needle out and put a bandage on your arm, you finally opened your eyes again.

You didn’t even realize you had tears in your eyes until you saw how blurry your vision was. You tried to blink the tears away before anyone would notice, but you were too late.

Natasha gave you a solemn look before bringing her other hand up to your face. She used her thumb to wipe the tears away, keeping her other hand attached to your own.

She then sat next to you on the table, and wrapped an arm around you as you leaned into her. She reached her hand behind you, then gently stroked your hair as she held you close.

“So will I get to use my powers again?” You asked Bruce.

“We’ll find out in about five minutes,”

You nodded, then leaned further into your girlfriend.

“How’s your arm feeling?” She asked as she continued stroking your hair.

“Hurts,” you admitted with a light laugh. “Not too bad though, not as bad as the HYDRA needle. God that one burned.”

You looked up at her, then nuzzled your head in the space between her neck and shoulder.

“I can’t wait to be your personal human heater again,” you told her.

She smiled, kissing the top of your head.

“I’ve just been glad to have you back, detka, but I’m also looking forward to being warmed up by you,”

Bruce smiled at the two of you, but his face fell as the results appeared on the computer.

“There’s still traces of what they put in your bloodstream,” he said. “Until it’s gone, you won’t be able to use your powers. I’m sorry, Y/N. We can check it again next week,”

Your heart dropped. You held your hands in your lap, looking down at them. You thought about all the times you made flames appear just from your palms. Now, you weren’t sure when you’d be able to do it again.

Natasha met your eyes, a neutral expression on her face. She was also sad about your powers, but she didn’t want to bring your spirits down even more. So, she interlaced her fingers with yours.

“Okay, so maybe a few more nights with blankets,” she said softly. “Then I get my favorite blanket back,”

You sighed, then stood up, keeping your fingers interlaced with hers.

You thanked Bruce, then walked out and went to the kitchen.

One of the perks of having pyrokinesis was that it made cooking easier. Sometimes you would just heat up the food in your hand, or hold the pan until everything cooked. It took awhile to figure out how to get it right, resulting in accidentally setting the fire alarm off multiple times as you burned food to a crisp. But eventually you were able to get your powers to work as your own oven and microwave.

Now that you couldn’t do that, you chose cereal instead. As you swallowed your first bite, you shivered as the cold milk went down your throat.

“I hate being cold,” you grumbled as you wrapped your arms around yourself.

Natasha smiled sadly, then brought your non-dominant hand to her mouth as you kept eating. She placed lengthy, but soft kisses on the back of it.

“I can keep you warm now,”

You smiled at the gesture, then let out a small chuckle.

“Natty, I love you, but we both know you’re way too cold on your own to warm someone up,”

She rolled her eyes.

“I could totally warm you up,”

“Please, you’re literally an iceberg. Why do you think we go so well together?”

She laughed, then kissed your hand again.

“Well right now we’re both icebergs. I think we can keep each other warm if we stay close, y’know, sharing body heat,”

You sighed, then leaned forward before kissing her.

You intended for it to be a quick, short kiss. But she had other plans.

She ran her tongue along your bottom lip, grinning as you allowed her entrance. Once you did, she grabbed your hips and pulled you onto her lap.

“See?” She said with a grin. “You’re warmer already,”

“You’re right,” you said, cupping her cheeks. “We should keep each other warm more often,”

She smiled, then kissed you again. You deepened the kiss this time, keeping one hand on her cheek and wrapped the other around her neck.

“That cereal is pretty good,” she said between kisses.

You laughed, then reconnected your lips. You stayed in her embrace, kissing her, for what was far too short in your opinion. You only stopped when you heard someone clear their throat from behind you.

You turned around to see Clint getting his own food.

“So what’s the news on your powers?” He asked. “Do we need to have fire extinguishers at the ready?”

Natasha glared at her friend, tightening her grip on you. He got his answer as soon as he saw her glare and noticed the way your face dropped.

“I’m sorry,” he said. He was going to say something else, but decided not to as Natasha kept her glare. So he waved a short goodbye, then left.

“Can we just go back to our room?” You asked.

“Of course,”

After putting your bowl away, you followed your girlfriend back upstairs, fully intending on staying in bed all day.

You glared at the blankets, but reluctantly pulled them over you.

You felt a little better once Natasha pulled you into her arms once again. You leaned back into her, holding onto her hands that lay around you.

“I love you,”

“I love you too,”

“I’m going to get my powers back,”

“Just focus on resting up for now, okay, detka?”

“Okay.”

A week later, you woke up ready to see Bruce again. You had been counting down the days, desperate to get your powers back.

Natasha gave a hesitant smile as you greeted her with a good morning kiss. She wanted you to get your powers back too, but she didn’t want you to be let down after your hopes had been so high.

Of course, she did miss using you as a personal heater. But even more than that, she missed seeing the smile on your face as you would control the flames emitting from you. She missed the satisfied smirk you would give whenever you knocked down someone you were fighting with fire. She missed how you would squeal excitedly after your powers helped you successfully cook something.

You were practically bouncing in your steps as you walked down to Bruce. While you dreaded the needle from the blood sample, you tried not to focus on that. Instead, you focused on how amazing it would feel to make fire again.

You still held on tight to your girlfriend’s hand as the needle pricked your skin. She ran her thumb over the back of your hand as you let out a small whimper.

Everyone in the room seemed to be holding their breath as the computer analyzed your blood.

Natasha was almost as nervous as you. Her breath hitched when Bruce said the results were coming in.

His eyes lit up as he read them.

“Your bloodstream is clean, Y/N,”

You smiled, then hugged Natasha out of happiness.

He smiled at you, then you thanked him, still bouncing in your step.

“Alright, let’s go outside. I want this flame to be good,”

Natasha nodded, keeping her hand connected to yours as you led her out. Bruce decided to follow, just in case there was something he missed.

Your smile grew even wider as you stood in front of the compound.

Taking a deep breath, you gave both yourself and your girlfriend a reassuring nod.

You took a step away, then flicked your wrist.

Nothing.

“What the fuck?”

You flicked it again. Still nothing.

Again. Nothing.

You flicked your other wrist, desperate to see the smoke rising from your palm. Once again, nothing.

“No,” you said, dropping to your knees. “Why don’t I have my powers?”

Natasha was by your side in a split second, putting an arm on your shoulder.

“I thought you said my bloodstream was clean!” You said to Bruce, feeling tears swell in your eyes.

“It is,” he said softly. “I’m so sorry, Y/N, but if you still don’t have your powers even after it’s out of your system, then that means whatever they did to you took your powers. Unless there’s an antidote, they’re not coming back,”

You let out a sob, completely wrapping yourself around Natasha. Bruce took that as his cue to leave, walking back inside as you continued crying in your girlfriend’s arms.

“What do I do, Natty?” You said, your voice breaking.

Her heart broke for you. She said nothing, but kept her hold.

“These powers, these abilities, controlling fire has been a part of me for such a long time,” you said as a few more tears fell. “And now… I’m just cold.”

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