#I’ve been called out for being long winded so here is your warning

[rainbow-femme]

Rewatching the animated Beauty and the Beast

-Right off the bat the thing in the opening that gets me is not the possible age implication but the fact that this prince is opening his own doors and to people he’s not expecting. You’re lucky it was just an enchantress looking to test the purity of your heart and not an assassin. Just power posing with the door fully open, no guards, going “Oh hey it’s someone I don’t know! I’m going to have a conversation with them alone” before god and everybody. Of course you got cursed, your guards should have rugby tackled her before she could get her wand out

-I never liked Maurice as a kid and I still don’t. Like he’s not bad he’s just annoying to me every time he’s on screen. The wind blows and he’s dying on the side of a cliff somewhere

-It is never not funny to me that Belle promises to stay in the castle forever and then just leaves three hours later

-I love Gaston having his whole “I’m going to get Belle’s father locked up so she marries me” scheme and then she’s fully just not remotely near the town. He’s living in a high stakes drama and she’s clapping along to dancing tea cups

-Hey when Maurice goes to look for Belle he grabs a bunch of rolled up pieces of paper and protractor. Is the idea that he’s just gonna invent and build something while actively walking? Sir you spent 6 hours in a dungeon and nearly died of being in a dungeon disease, you can’t help yourself out of a wet paper bag much less get your daughter out of anywhere with an invention you made out of rocks and sticks while clawing your way through the woods because you’re dying again

-But it is funny to imagine this revolving door of Maurice and Belle trading themselves for the other until the beast is just like “hey if I let you both leave will you promise to never come back”

-Belle is such a dick at the beginning it’s so funny. “Oh there’s one place in this giant castle I can’t go? I bet he’s hiding all the really cool stuff in there and I’m going to ignore his wishes and that of the staff. Oh no, consequences, the guy who said not to come here is upset I came here! Who could have foreseen this!”

-Like it’s not bad writing, it’s her character arc that she was mainly focused on herself and her interests and pretty judgemental of people who weren’t like her, so her disrespecting someone’s boundaries because she want to sets up something she grows from, and she learns to connect with someone else on their level even if that person is different from her and she learns that people are more than their surface appearance and even an angry beast has depths if you actually get to know them and see their view of the world, and connecting with people who are different from you enriches your life. Which is why when the townsfolk later try to kill the beast because he’s different we see she’s now understood the danger of that way of thinking and is horrified

-But that’s such a funny thing to do just immediately upon entering a castle owned by a big scary beast. Day one hour one she’s like “oh boy I know where I wanna go!”

-I don’t want to be a CinemaSins and point out how improbable it is that Belle got a giant unconscious beast onto her horse when he would be hundreds of pounds. But I do want to see the scene of her doing it. I’m picturing the horse sorta laying down and the beast is on the ground like a sack of potatoes and Belle has her back against him and is pushing with her legs to try and roll him over. Or she’s got her shoulder against him and is trying to push that way but her feet keep slipping in the snow

-Oh my god I forgot they told her about the library before the beast “gives” it to her. She was already allowed to go in there and knew it existed, “giving” someone a room they had full knowledge of and access to is very funny

-But you know what if he’s the kind of guy who thinks that will work and she’s the kind of girl it works on then they’re perfect for each other. Just two people with zero social skills bumbling around a castle together, making weird decisions and the other is like “wow they’re so cute and normal”

-I love the sweeping faux crane shot during the ballroom dance. Over 30 years later and that shit still slaps, more animated movies need to act like they’re being shot and edited like live action

-Maurice really can find a way to immediately die in any situation. When he’s at home he’s fine but the second he leaves the town border he develops tuberculosis and begins losing all function in his limbs

-I’m going to be honest with you guys, I’ve seen various versions of Beauty and the Beast and every time it’s the letting Belle go scene I have the same thought: I absolutely would not have read that social interaction correctly, I would have been fully under the impression we were all aware I was running an errand and coming back later. Because if I’m Belle, and I can live in the cool castle with a friend and people who are nice to me or a town I specifically stated not liking filled with a guy who is pushy and makes me uncomfortable and people who are mean to me and zero friends, I would not have been like “oh thank god I can finally go back!”

-“You should go to him. I release you, you are no longer my prisoner” See to me that reads “We are friends and I am removing this technicality between us so you can go run out and do something that is clearly important to you.” I would not have picked up on everyone in the castle thinking I was leaving forever. I’d just show up two hours later like “boy, it’s been a day, huh?” and the beast is just laying face down on the floor in his room listening to a sad boy playlist

-But the beast is clearly part dog so I guess it’s a normal reaction for him to have

-I don’t want to victim blame, but if you have a sick dad and are equidistant between “castle where everyone likes you” and “town where everyone is mean to you” and your dying father can be cured by a nap, I feel like it’s a bit on you if bad things continue to happen in the Bad Things Happen To Me town

-Not saying she should have anticipated a mob coming to incarcerate her father but I do feel like it would be expected that the people who have been mean to you and your dad would continue to be mean to you and your dad in the Everyone Is Mean To You and Your Dad town

-Because if the forced incarceration hadn’t been an issue, they would have gone to town the next day and someone would go “Hey Belle, your dad said you were kidnapped by a beast.” And everyone would point and laugh and he’d start waving his arms and going “It was the biggest beast you ever saw! 18 feet tall and claws bigger than my head!” and people would probably suggest that the guy they all call Crazy Old Maurice may be crazy and Belle would need to prove he wasn’t. I just don’t think we would have ended up with much of a different situation in any timeline that involves going back to the town

-Ok. So. If I live in a town. And I find out there is a beast within walking distance that is sentient enough to take villagers prisoner. And this guy is like “yeah he took me and my daughter prisoner, he’s terrifying!” I’m not saying I would have been part of the mob but I do think I would be worried about there being a beast and two people he previously kept prisoner living next door. And her saying “no he’s actually very sweet” would sound like those people with exotic pets who get their faces eaten by their pet tiger. Like yes they’re wrong but Belle also thought he was scary and violent until she’d been there a number of hours. I feel like if instead of giving herself up she went to town and asked for help and they created a mob to get her father back she would not have been against the idea so it’s not wholly their fault for having the same idea

-“Is it dangerous?” “No, no, he’d never hurt anyone” Every owner of a dog who wants to bite you so so bad

-So when Belle and her father are alone she is clearly telling him that the beast let her go and is kind. When asked about the beast by the town, Maurice starts yelling about how he’s the most terrifying monster in the world. Belle has to show the beast to back up her father’s claims to try and save him for the second? third? time. And then they’re locked up and she says “this is all my fault” and this man does not for a second contradict her or take blame at all. “Yeah I can’t believe you specifically caused this mess.”

“We won’t rest until he’s good and deceased.” I know there are only so many words that rhyme with beast but that’s such a funny line in a bloodlust song. I will not rest until this animal has been declared legally dead by the state

-“We will fight even though the danger just increased” I’m obsessed with all the words they had to use to rhyme with beast

-It’s so funny that this is canonically France and he is canonically a prince. They didn’t make him a duke or a lord he is directly related to the royal family and in the line of succession. Likely not the dauphin because they wouldn’t have sent him to run a castle in the countryside away from the center of politics so probably a younger son but still, this guy is part of the royal family. They didn’t have to explicitly state this is France but they do, and they reference the baroque period so it’s after the construction of Versailles. The beast is actively being stabbed to death while sentient furniture watches and at the same time his family are canonically pissing on the walls and floors of their own home

-Oh my god the beast is brooding on a chaise. Did he drag it over to the window just so he could dramatically sit on his chaise and stare longingly out at the rain? Absolute break up mood

-He’s also in a different outfit that isn’t the fancy one or his every day one, he went and changed into a breakup outfit. Important to note the breakup outfit includes a cape and what he was previously wearing did not. He chose to put on a cape as part of his breakup outfit

-So Gaston points his arrow at the beast. The beast acknowledges it then looks away. Gaston then fires and hits him and he reacts all surprised and angry that it hurt like my dude you let him shoot you with an arrow, what did you think that experience would be

-It is so wild that Gaston assumes the beast is in love with Belle. Like yeah he’s right but what a wild assumption to make when you’re not even sure this thing comprehends human speech. Again my thought would be he’s attached to her like a dog is attached to its owner, I would not see a big furry animal and be like “this thing is fully sentient and feels romantic attraction to human women”. Yeah he’s wearing clothes but still that feels like a leap. Pointing at a dog in a sweater following its owner and yelling “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

-The beast’s arc is partly him controlling his temper, and we see him want to kill Gaston but controls himself and lets him go, immediately resulting in his own death. Gotta be honest I feel like less self control would have been helpful in that specific scenario

-I didn’t remember the blood spray after the beast is stabbed followed by the stab wound bleeding a good amount of blood. Are there other Disney princess movies with onscreen blood? I think in Mulan we see blood oozing out through clothes from an injury but that’s the only other one I can think of. Eugene gets pretty bloodlessly stabbed

-Best scene in the movie: The beast floats up in the air, actively transforms into a human in front of Belle, stands up, says “Belle, it’s me!” She then squints at him, touches his hair a bit, squints at his face, and when she recognizes his eyes she goes “It is you!” Ma’am what the hell else did you think was happening. If you didn’t recognize his eyes would you have just been like “Hmmm I dunno…”

-Ok so at the end there is an entire royal court watching them dance. Again I don’t want to be a CinemaSins I just want to see the missing scene. Like did he explain what happened to him? If yes then again I want to see that conversation of him explaining to his family how he was literally transformed into a literal beast for the last ten years and they had no idea this was happening to their family member. If no, imagine just going back to being a prince after 10 years as a beast and you just have to pretend like everything has been normal this whole time. I want a sequel that’s just the human beast reintegrating not only back into society but French royal society, which was notorious for having some of the most intricate and complicated social etiquette in all of Europe

-The final shot is a stained glass window of them with a prominent rose. Now in the original he had a whole rose garden he was very attached to, so that makes sense. But I feel like this beast specifically would have only negative connotations with roses and that window would probably be seen as a little tasteless given the circumstances. “It’s a rose! You know, the physical manifestation of a curse that was clearly quite upsetting for you for nine years and roughly 360 days, reminding you daily of your flaws! Isn’t that fun?”

“Original score by Alan Menken” Look up his IMDB, if you live in at least the US this man has written the score to your entire life

#long post #I’ve been called out for being long winded so here is your warning #beauty and the beast #disney

[stylesparker]

closer than friends

PAIRING: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT: 5.3k

WARNINGS: season 1/2 era, friends to lovers, sweet love confession, Dean being Sam’s wingman

A/N: my first supernatural fic is finally here!!! It’s been a long while since I’ve had the motivation to write, and I’m so glad I was able to get this out and share it. Please reblog if you enjoy!! <33

"How many times are you gonna shift in your goddamn seat, woman, jesus christ." Dean glances over at you from the wheel for the fourth time, watching you rub your eyes and knock your shoulder into the side of the Impala's door again.

"It's not my fault the passenger seat isn't made for comfortable napping, Dean."

You hear Sam chuckle from over your shoulder; this makes you look back to find him comfortably nestled into the corner of the backseat with his sweatshirt tucked in the crook of his neck so he can lean against his door without discomfort.

You huff, "I don't want a word from you."

"Says the girl who called shotgun and fought for the front seat all morning."

"What did I just say?"

Dean rolls his eyes, "Okay, knock it off. We're finding a place to sleep tonight."

While Dean focuses back onto driving, you try your hardest to find a suitable position that would allow you to sleep for awhile up until you guys made it to whatever hotel you were staying in for the night. You'd like to blame the Impala for your sleep deprivation, but you've slept in it before just fine, so you know the car isn't the problem. Even though you're going on just over 36 hours of no sleep, your mind won't shut off. The events of the case you were working on for the past couple of days play like a movie in your head, reminding you of how it ended over and over again.

You swallow quite harshly, and shift in your seat again. Something soft smacks the back of your head and you whip around to see what Sam's hit you with, but it's just his sweatshirt, and he's already leaning against the side of the car like he was before, almost as if he hadn't moved at all.

You mumble out a quiet "thank you," and you don't bother to even listen for any sort of reply before you're stuffing his sweatshirt underneath your head and forcing yourself to go to sleep. It's not long before you hear Sam's soft breathing from the backseat signifying that the boy has finally fallen asleep himself. You almost gave up until you saw Dean turn down his music just a little, side-eyeing you as he looked between you and the road.

"Is that better?" He asks.

"It was fine before."

"I'll keep it like this anyway."

You hum in response, and he goes back to humming his own tune to follow along with the music. With Sam's soft breathing in the back and Dean's low humming, you finally find something else other than your mind to focus on, which ultimately leads to your eyes lulling shut and you drifting off to sleep.

When your eyes start to peel back open again, the car is stopped and there's light rain patter on the wind shield. You lift your head causing Sam's sweatshirt to lightly fall into your lap, and at the same time the door opens revealing a slightly wet Sam waiting for you.

"C'mon, we're here."

"Slow your roll, Sammy, I just woke up." Your head lolls back onto the seat, and you let your eyes close once again, forgetting about Sam who's standing in the rain waiting for you to get out.

"Alright, let's go."

You shiver and grumble a slight protest as you feel his cold hands slip underneath your body to grab you and pick you out of the Impala. He knocks the door shut as he cradles you close to his chest as to not drop you, and as he locks the car. Your ear stays smushed against his front as he carries you, allowing you to feel the soft pitter patter of his heart beating in his chest.

"What time is it?" You mumble sleepily.

"Close to ten."

"That's it?"

"Yeah." You nod, not replying this time so you can nod back off in his arms. You're back to being fast asleep once again by the time Sam reaches the room Dean picked out for you, and he tries tucking you into your bed as gently as possible so he doesn't accidentally wake you up. In the short process you only mutter something unintelligible to Sam's ears as he finishes pulling the blankets up, so he ignores it and kisses you on the forehead, bidding you a good night before he retreats back to the room he's sharing with Dean for the night.

It's much later when you're rudely roused from sleep by a nightmare; you sit up straight in the bed with your hands by your sides clawing at the sheets, your eyes wide and unfocused, much too scared to figure out where you are or how you've gotten there. It takes a second to realize you're in a motel room, and now, the sheets that were once neatly laid over your body are haphazardly thrown towards the end of the bed, practically hanging off and hitting the floor. You take a shaky deep breath in and out, taking your trembling hand and placing it over your heart in an attempt to regulate it.

After a couple minutes your breathing is sort of back to normal, but your shakiness hasn't stopped. At that point, you're aware you won't be falling asleep again anytime soon, so you sit up further and throw your legs off the bed to go and find something to busy yourself with. In the corner there's a chair that you notice has your bag on top of it, and there's a small table next to it with a notepad. Your curiosity pulls you towards it, and when your feet reach the table, you're able to make out Sam's sloppy handwriting.

If you need us. - S

Next to the writing is a key card, which you can obviously assume is the one to their room. You pick it up and turn it over a few times, debating on whether this dream was something worth needing them for. In your head, needing was the same thing as bothering and it was never used as a positive term. But you know that if you spend another minute in that bed you might actually start crying and drive yourself crazy over the dream, so you take your chances and hope one of the boys will let you sleep in their bed or at least talk to you for awhile and get your mind off of it.

When you open the door and step outside, you become acutely aware of the cold air on your arms and legs rather quickly, and you begin to wish you were wearing a sweatshirt instead of one of Sam's shirts and a pair of shorts. The chill encapsulates you, making you hasten your step towards the room down the hall with the number specified on the key card. Once you make it to the room, you're pushing yourself up on your tip toes because, despite your sock covered feet, the ground is still horridly cold and you're hoping to get off it as soon as possible. Although, you find yourself unable to let yourself in once you find yourself standing in front of the door. You give it a good five minutes before you work up the nerve to finally pat the key card on the handle to allow yourself in the room. Once you've pushed open the door a crack, you're able to perceive a bed-side lamp turned on, and Sam leaning against his headboard next to it.

His head snaps up from his book at the sound of the door being pushed open, but he relaxes when he realizes it's you.

"Hey," he says softly. He's in the brown sweatshirt you were passing back and forth earlier, and he's weirdly still in a pair of jeans, but at this point you're used to seeing Sam and Dean wearing their jeans to bed.

"Hi," you respond back, even softer.

Sam likes to think he's pretty good at perceiving your body language, especially after knowing you for so long; so when he notices your trembling hands, your flushed cheeks, and your frantic eyes, he knows that you've had a nightmare.

He's not gonna ask why you're there since he knows why, so he only pats the side of the bed next to him and asks, "You wanna' join me?"

You're quick to nod your head and cross the room to join him, and it's only then when you're on the bed that you notice Dean isn't in the other one.

"Where's Dean?"

"Oh, he left to drive around. He's probably at a bar, or sleeping in the car somewhere." He says casually.

You hum, "Couldn't sleep?"

"Neither of us really could. He asked if I wanted to come with, but I didn't really feel like leavin'." Sam left out the fact he didn't want to leave you here alone, since he doesn't like leaving you anywhere by yourself. Dean doesn't either, but he doesn't get fussy over it like Sam sometimes does when you fight them on it.

"I can't either," you say quietly.

With some of your hair dangling in your face and your flushed cheeks, you look sort of delicate in Sam's eyes. You look sad, but when you look at him you have a gentle smile covering your lips, and when you look away your mouth curves downward again, only slightly, to where you might think he won't notice, but he does.

Sam's always stayed observant of you, even when you think you're the one who takes all the mental notes of him.

He reaches out, lifting the hand closest to you and letting his palm rest gently on top of your shoulder.

"You okay?" He almost looks like a puppy when he asks, and it's pitiful. For you mostly because he's cute, but why should he look like that when you feel like you're gonna start crying any minute.

You don't even want to answer because if your mouth opens you're either gonna say you're fine, or words describing the terrors you experienced in your sleep are going to come pouring out of your mouth and you won't be able to stop until you're a sobbing, pitiful mess and you could not handle being that way in front of Sam.

You couldn't.

But looking at him looking at you so fondly, it's like he's trying to tell you he'll comfort you the only way he knows how and he's gonna fix all your problems with a touch or two alone. Like the way he wants to hold you will melt all your fears into nothing and the way he wants to kiss you will make you forget any of it even happened. His eyes speak more than words could express in this moment and you don't even care if you seem desperate, or needy, or anything really. You allow yourself to fall forward into his awaiting arms, and when your head meets his chest, you can't help the first sob that escapes your lips.

You sound so tired, and the way that you're crying so harshly makes him feel like you're tearing yourself apart inside, like each breath is ripping off another piece of your heart.

"Honey..." he breathes out gently, wrapping his one arm around your neck and his other only comes up about half way so he can hold your head close to him under his chin. You've fallen completely into his side, your head against his chest and one leg practically in his lap, but he doesn't seem mind. “Do you… want to talk about it?”

You consider it for a moment; you probably would feel better opening up to him about the case you just worked, considering he was also there and knows how hard it was, but you also know opening up to Sam makes you feel close to him. Intimate almost. You’ve never been one to share your thoughts or feelings generously, and you think that must have just came with the messed up childhood, since Sam and Dean are pretty much the same way. But as the years went on, the boys got much better at opening up to you than you did them. Although, if there was anyone that could get you to talk, it was Sam.

Today, you decided, would not be one of those days.

You shake your head, "I'm okay, I'm okay. I'll be fine." You know by his soft sigh that he doesn't believe you, but luckily he doesn't push it. "Can we just stay like this for a little while?" You whisper shyly, despite knowing he wouldn't say no to you.

"Yeah," he strokes your hair softly, "Yeah, of course."

You lay comfortably against him as he slowly but surely calms you down, holding your head and rubbing your arm gently as you let out sad little sniffles. Once you've relaxed, you murmur something into his chest that he thinks might have been a thank you, but before he can ask you've already fallen asleep.

About an hour later after the two of you have fallen asleep, Dean unlocks the door and enters the room slightly shitfaced but more so tired. He freshens up in the bathroom so he doesn't wake up feeling even worse in a couple of hours, and he doesn't even notice you're there until he's trudging out of it, eyes wide and feet frozen to the floor as he takes in the image of you and Sam cuddled up to each other in Sam's bed. He manages to put his fist against his mouth just in time to cover up a surprised laugh, taking in the sight of his little brother in the same bed as their best friend.

"This is gold." Dean smiles mischievously, pulling his phone out of his pocket to capture the moment. "Just friends my ass." He mutters.

...

"Dean, if I have to hear you say that girl's name again one more time, I'm going to chop your head off. I don't care how good she was at su-"

"Alright, alright, let's quiet down shall' we?" Sam pats your shoulder and looks around the cafe to see if anyone heard you bickering with Dean about last night's one night stand. Dean laughs loudly as he lets himself into the corner booth that the three of you chose while you were walking in.

"What, you nervous someone's gonna hear us, Sammy?"

"It's 8 in the morning, Dean. Let's be a little respectful."

You hide your giggle, "Yeah, Dean."

Dean rolls his eyes, glancing at Sam as he ever so casually throws his arm over the back of the seat behind you, looking at the side of your face to see if you've taken notice. You're picking your nail, completely oblivious. He almost rolls his eyes again.

"Well," Dean straightens up, "Let's see what we have on the menu today."

"Don't act like you're not going to get the same exact thing you get every day," you comment, not even looking up from your nail.

"What's with the attitude, sweetheart? Didn't sleep well?" Sam's smile quickly turns to an annoyed frown as he makes eye contact with Dean, silently sending him daggers to keep his mouth shut.

You squint your eyes at him and open your mouth to come back with a retort, but the waitress walks up before you get the chance to say anything.

"Are y'all ready yet, or would you like a few minutes?" She asks kindly.

"Can we have a couple more minutes?" You say, since the three of you haven't even taken a look at the menu yet. She nods and retreats, leaving you alone with the boys once again. Sam and Dean grab their menus and you quickly realize there isn't a third, so you go to call the waitress back, but Sam nudges you just before you do.

"It's fine, just share mine." You huddle close next to him, resting your chin on your hand as you survey the food options as Sam does the same. He's so close his hair just so slightly grazes the skin of your cheek. Dean raises his eyebrows when he notices Sam's leg has started bouncing and he covers up his laugh with a cough just as he did last night, busying himself and acting clueless as the two of you look up at him.

"You alright?" You ask jokingly.

"Yup, totally fine. You guys ready yet?"

"Yep. How about you, Sammy?" He clears his throat and doesn't say anything, but he nods his head in response, which has you eyeing him weirdly. You choose to ignore it and let Sam order for you while you kick Dean under the table to stop being flirty with the nice waitress, and he only winks at you before he gives his order too.

When the waitress departs from your table, Dean lets his eyes follow her just for a second before he's turning back to the two of you, and he gets this questioning look on his face when he realizes the two of you are blankly glaring at him with the same narrowed eyes.

"What," he throws his hands up in defense, "I can't admire a good-looking woman?"

You and Sam glance at each other with a knowing glance right before you look back at Dean and say, "What's with you today? Why are you acting so..."

"Strange." Sam says. He leans forward on the table, "Why do you look like you're up to something?"

"Huh? Me?" Dean points to himself, "I'm not up to anything. I'm just being plain old me."

"Yeah, sure." You laugh him off and start a side conversation with Sam that has the two of you forgetting about Dean for the moment. Dean always knew Sam liked you; it's so obvious, at least to him. But he wishes he'd realized before how clearly obvious you are too. He doesn't know if he wants to throw up or throw a party.

...

A couple weeks later

"One or two rooms?" The lady asks.

"One please." Dean replies, handing the lady one of his debit cards that probably had some weird made up name on it. When Dean turns around with his debit card and the key in hand, you and Sam are looking at him weird like a couple of toddlers.

"Really? One room? Since when have we done that?" You questioned.

"Since you and Sammy boy over here started sharing a bed every night. I'm not gonna pay for two rooms when you don't use yours." Dean quickly catches on to how he's embarrassed the two of you so he adds, "and besides, I'd rather you stick with us anyway. Keep the team together." He pats your shoulder with a smirk and leaves the two of you behind. Sam spares a glance at your face and he's a bit surprised to find that you're just as taken aback as he is, but you don't say anything and you follow Dean rather quickly.

The three of you head back to the Impala to grab your bags before heading to the room, and when you go to take out yours, Sam slides in front of you and grabs his in one hand, and yours in the other.

"Sam." You say impassively.

"Yeah?"

"I am fully capable of grabbing my own bag."

"Oh I know. I'm just getting a quick work-out, since you know, your bag is like 50 pounds from all the clothes you carry.

"It is not, I barely bring anything with me!"

"You might be right, but if I may ask, how many of the shirts in here are actually mine?"

You pretend to think, "Um, probably like two. Maybe three."

A wide grin spreads across his face as he laughs at you, "Now you're lying! Half my wardrobe is in here!" Sam pushes the cracked door open with his behind and holds it open for you, standing to the side with his foot on the door. Dean's bag is at the end of his bed and he's already crashed on the bed nearest to the door.

"Hey, it's not my fault your clothes are more comfortable than mine! I don't know who decided that men deserve softer clothes."

"Well, in that case," he dropped the bags, "be my guest."

"Oh, how sweet. I like how you think you had any choice in the matter."

"Haha, very funny. Do you want the first shower?"

"You can take it, I had it the other night. Besides, I need to figure out which shirt I'm stealing tonight. I was thinking of the blue one, or actually, maybe the green-"

"Oh my god, I'm leaving." He rolls his eyes, but you can see the amused smirk on his face as he heads to the bathroom, and gently closes the door behind him. You giggle to yourself as you pull out his blue shirt from your bag and a pair of pants since it's a bit chillier tonight.

He's out of the shower pretty quick, and when he emerges from the steamy bathroom, you're next to Dean's bed whacking him repeatedly with a pillow.

"I told you to stop snoring!" You yell at him.

"Hmph, stop hitting me, crazy woman!" He mumbles sleepily at you. You stop hitting him when you notice Sam watching you, and he wants to laugh at how cute you look, like some kid who's got caught doing something they're not supposed to.

"What, he was bothering me."

He smiles, "I don't doubt it."

He doesn't realize that you froze mainly because he came out in a pair of sweats and no shirt, with his hair dripping wet and a towel around his shoulders. Dean peaks his eyes open and grumbles when he notices the way you're looking at him. You hear Dean, which breaks you out of your temporary trance.

You drop the pillow and give him a sheepish look, "I'm gonna- I'll take my shower now." You nod, promptly leaving the room after you grab the clothes you had set out on your bed. Sam watches you leave, more than a bit confused might he add, suspicious of the way your mood had suddenly changed. Once he hears the water running and the curtain pull back signifying you're in the shower, and can no longer hear him, he settles on the bed and asks Dean a question.

"What happened?"

"You happened, you idiot."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard what I said. I'm sick and tired of watching you two pine after the other when you clearly love each other, so for gods sake- no, my sake, tell the girl you love her and get on with it!"

Sam's face is hysterical, and if Dean weren't so tired right now he'd be laughing, but he's exhausted in more ways than one, so all he can do is shut is eyes and hope his little brother makes a move on the girl who's been his practically since the day they met her.

"D-Dean... I can't just-"

"Yes you can, and you will." Dean finalizes. "At this point I'll just do it for you. It's unbearable." Sam huffs loudly, flopping back onto the bed.

He lays there and stares at the ceiling for awhile until he hears his brother's soft snores coming from the other side of the room; when he sits up and runs a hand through his hair, he hears the shower turn off and your light humming become more audible.

He takes a final deep breath just as you walk out of the bathroom with your hair combed nicely and your warm pajamas, perfectly ready for bed. Not exactly ready for your best friend to confess his undying love for you. He wants to crumble at the sight of your smile.

"You okay?" You ask gently. "You look a little pale."

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine," he waves you off, "When am I not fine?"

You laugh softly, "Do you want me to answer that?"

"Actually no." He gives a soft laugh of his own before his eyes land on his brother again, thinking over the words that were spoken to him just minutes prior to you walking out of that door. You were so near, so close to their conversation, and you have no idea. He can't help but think that maybe you'll be taken aback, shocked beyond belief, or traumatized enough to the point you yell at him and leave him for good. Or, maybe... possibly... there's a small chance you do feel the way that Dean says you feel, and in just a few moments the entirety of your relationship will change. Well, no matter what it'll change.

He just hopes it's what he feels it might be.

Sam's face snaps up to you quickly, like he's just had a sudden thought, and his eyes hold yours for a beat too long before he asks, "Can we go outside for a second?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure." He gets up and takes long strides towards the door, you just a foot behind. He opens it and leaves it open for you to slide through, and he's standing there with his hands in his pockets facing away from you. You give him a questioning glance, but he doesn't see it.

"You have the key?" You query.

"Um..." he pulls out the card in his hand to make sure and you giggle at him, but he just nods, putting it back in his pocket, gulping strangely, "Yeah, I got it."

"Okay." You whisper softly, closing the door quietly behind you. You're silent for a moment, giving him a second to see if he'd speak first, but he doesn't. "You okay, Sammy?"

"I'm in love with you."

Not even a beat later, those words exit his mouth, and everything changes. The atmosphere that was once light, comfortable, and knowing, has shifted to one of fearful eyes, harsh breaths and unspeakable tension. His hands, once unafraid to grab hold of you, now remain glued to his side, flexing and itching to reach forward and touch your skin. His heart is beating so fast he feels like it's getting torn out; each individual piece of it being sliced and picked carefully from his chest as if he were on an operating table.

He can't tell if the look on your face is fear or shock. Probably both. But he doesn't know if it's good or bad and it's scaring him.

"Say something." He breathes out, with a drop of desperation.

Your mouth, hung open for a brief amount of time, now closes, and you gulp just like he did before he uttered those five little words.

"What did you say?" you murmur, looking like you just got pulled from space.

He repeats himself. "I'm in love with you."

You don't say anything again, but he continues.

"You don't know how long I've wanted to say that." He interrupts himself with a laugh, a scared, almost detached sounding laugh, but one nonetheless. You stare at him as he goes on. "For weeks I've had these moments where I look at you and all I can think about is telling you how I feel, but then some part of me ruins it and then I forget about it until you do something again that makes me want to say it again."

"Which, I swear is every two seconds because all you have to do is look at me with those eyes and all I want to do is grab your face and tell you how much I love you, how much you mean to me and how I can't stand sleeping next to you one more night without you knowing that I can't sleep without you anymore. I need you by my side, tucking your head under mine. It's not that I can't because I could, but I don't ever want to again. I could live a hundred lifetimes, all of them with you in them, but if you weren't mine, if you were someone else's, I wouldn't dare live another."

When he notices the tear streaking down your face, he finally reaches forward to hold your cheek in the palm of his hand. Your own comes up from your side to grip tight onto the wrist that's holding your face, and he can tell that you've noticed he's shaking.

"Sam..." Your voice comes out unsure, "Are you sure?"

"Am I sure?" He questions you, giving you an incredulous look. "Sweetheart, I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

You're holding onto him so tight, he just knows what you're going to say next.

"I love you." You thought it would come out a whisper, but it sounds stronger than you expected. You close your eyes, letting out a sigh of relief. "Oh, Sam, I love you so much."

His smile is brighter than a thousand suns, and his forehead drops against yours, staying there as you breath the other in; this new confession bringing in a wind of fresh air that has you feeling like you've both earned a pair of new lungs.

"I thought you might say that." He utters quietly, making you laugh and hit his chest lightly.

"Oh, shut up. Then why were you so scared, dumbass."

"I was confessing my love for you, either way I'm gonna be nervous!"

You smile cheekily, "Your love for me..."

"Don't act like you didn't know." His other hand comes up to hold the other side of your face, tilting your head up more to see you clearly.

"Maybe. But I had my doubts too." You confess.

Sam shrugs, "Well, without Dean I probably wouldn't have said anything for another decade, so-"

Your mouth drops open, "You finally gained the courage because Dean forced you to?" Sam stays still as you gape at him, and he smiles nervously.

"Does it help if I was thinking about it first?"

"Oh my god." You groan dejectedly and drop your head forward onto his chest. He holds the back of your head as he shakes with laughter.

"Okay, okay, be mad at me, whatever. Am I getting my kiss now?"

"Who said you were gonna get one at all?"

"Don't mess with me."

"I wouldn't dare."

...

The next morning, Dean groggily peels his eyes open to the morning sunlight peeking out of the curtains, and grumbles, questioning the time. It's around 8 am, which surprises him because he would have expected you or Sam to have woken him by now. At the thought of you guys, he turns over and manages to find himself alone in the dingy motel room. The bed covers are torn from the top of the bed, more settled towards the end of it, showing that you guys obviously slept in it, but there's no sign you or Sam are even still here.

Suddenly, he hears the low growl of his Baby pulling up outside, making him swing his legs out of bed and trudge over to the door. He swings it open, getting ready to yell at the both of you for going anywhere without him, even if it was breakfast, but his eyes widen and his jaw drops at the sight he's seeing.

You and Sam are standing close together near the trunk, leaning against the side, but mostly the other. Sam's hand, that isn't holding the grocery bags, is holding your hip, and you're looking up at him with a mischievous look in your eye. Sam says something which conjures up a giggle out of you, which then has Sam smiling brightly at the sight of you. He leans down and kisses you straight on the lips, holding you there for a moment before he pulls away to catch his breath. Both of you stand there, unaware of Dean's eyes on you, but neither of you would even really care if you did.

Dean's shocked expression turns to one of accomplishment. He nods, satisfied, and smiles like his brother just did. He sighs.

"Kids."

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x female reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester #supernatural

[theminecraftbee]

Xisuma checks over his scripts three more times. Both Joe and Jevin have claimed they’d be online until the moment the server kicked them, and he wants to make sure his scripts for doing that are sound, and won’t do anything strange. His hands are shaking as he does. Everything is neat and tidy. Everything is neat and tidy.

Hypno comes up behind him, glancing over Xisuma’s shoulder. He whistles. “Man, you’re really baby-proofing server close, huh?”

“Oh, Hypno! I thought you were packing,” Xisuma says.

“Nah. I’d moved most of my stuff over to Iskall’s sever for the break like, a few weeks ago. Only had enough stuff here for playing Decked Out.”

“Really? That’s good,” Xisuma says.

“Anyway, what about you? You can be packing too, this whole shutdown process is automated. We’ve literally done this seven times before. Sort of eight, if you count the whole moon thing, but like, you know.”

“Yeah, but…”

He trails off. He’s not sure why he’s still standing here. The shutdown scripts have, truthfully, been ready for months. Everyone’s been packing for at least a month (at least, everyone who hasn’t procrastinated away the time). They’d gone around cleaning up the server just the other day; it’s been left neat and tidy. Everything is as it ought to be, at the end of a season.

“…you know what? Yeah man, I get it,” Hypno says. “I’d want to stay a little longer, too.”

“Just a little longer,” echoes Xisuma.

“If you’re anxious, I can check the safety script again, make sure you aren’t causing another apocalypse for everyone staying until it closes.”

Xisuma laughs. “Gosh, am I that obvious?”

Hypno flings an arm around Xisuma’s shoulder. “Nah. I’ve just known you long enough. You’d think the helmet would make you more mysterious, but…”

“I’m cool,” Xisuma says.

“Keep telling yourself that,” Hypno says.

“I might take you up on that,” Xisuma says. “I think—I think I want to do one more fly-around, you know? Say goodbye to some things. Even after all these years, it never stops being… I’ve had so much time to do it. You’d think after not getting a warning last time, I’d know to do it. It’d feel easier. But…”

Hypno squeezes Xisuma’s shoulder once before removing his arm. “I’ll check your script for you. Go on. Go look over your kingdom, oh glorious leader.”

“I really am not that,” Xisuma says. “Don’t call me that. I’m not in charge. You know I’m not in charge.”

Hypno chuckles and opens an admin log. Xisuma takes a deep breath and looks down over the spawn village. The wind blows past him. It’s an ordinary day. Everything is fine. Everything is neat and tidy. It feels like it’s been a long time since he’s been there, and yet…

“Here’s to season ten,” Xisuma says, and something unknots in his chest for the last time.

#hermitcraft #xisuma #hypnotizd #a bee fic #HERE’S TO THE END OF SEASON 9! I’ll miss you buddy. #AND HERE’S TO WHATEVER COMES NEXT!

[fqirysim]

untitled--

genre(s): angst, some fluff at the end, exes to best friends to lovers, highschool au, lowercase intended, lots of pov changes

requested: nope !

pairing(s): yang jungwon x reader, ft. yuna (itzy), and intak (p1h)

word count: 7.2k (my longest fic yet ! ) 

warning(s): cursing, underage drinking, a tiny bit of infidelity 

synopsis: you had been in love with yang jungwon since the day you met him. 

note: lowercase is intended, lots of pov changes! (read carefully so you don’t get confused lol). this took me a year to make PLEASE don't judge too harshly i put my heart and soul into this 😭. took me a year to make but could not come up with a title for the life of me, hence why it is called untitled, silly silly me. this was really fun to make though and although it took me a while to make, i'm very proud of it. lmk if you want to be added to my taglist and i will gladly do so !! special thanks to my bestie abby and my bf dean for proofreading love you both <3333

—------

you were certain this was the end of your friendship with jungwon. again. but this time you knew it would be permanent.

he was the boy who lived next door. growing up, you had always admired him from afar. the class president who everyone, including the upperclassmen, seemed to get along with.  

you had liked him until freshman year, when you got tired of pining over someone who didn’t seem to hold any interest in you. as comical as it seems, that was around the time that he had started to take an interest in you. 

and so he courted you, bringing you your favorite drink, walking you home, even coming over for dinner and hanging out at your house. this helped blossom a friendship that no one saw coming, and it wasn’t long until people started to wonder if you two were an item. 

it took two months for jungwon to muster up the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend. 

you were sure you were over your crush on him, that it was just a silly childhood crush. but as you hung out with him more and more, you couldn’t help but fall for him all over again. of course you said yes, because who wouldn’t say yes to the pretty starry-eyed boy standing before you?

jungwon was a nice boyfriend; going on dates quite often, never fought, and he would buy you flowers without being asked.. maybe the latter was why the whirlwind relationship only lasted five months. 

you remember the day so vividly, sitting on the bench at your favorite park; the same park where jungwon had asked you to be his, and here he was, asking you to break up.

 it seemed poetic in a kind of way, starting as his, and leaving as no one’s.

“i’m sorry. i’ve just lost romantic feelings,” jungwon stated, staring down at the grass as a breeze of wind came, the blades of grass swaying slightly. “it’s just that we’ve both been so busy with other things, and i guess we kinda just like, drifted apart because of it.”

“yeah, i think so too,” you replied nonchalantly, ignoring the slight sting in your heart. 

his head snapped up, your eyes finally meeting his, “wait, actually? you’re not lying?” the sound of relief in his voice made your heart feel like it was being squeezed.

“do you want to get rid of me that bad?” you instead teased with a grin. 

“no!” he exclaimed with wide eyes. “i still wanna be friends with you. i might not like you romantically anymore, but i don’t wanna like, lose the friendship we have, you know?”

“yeah,” you replied, “we can still be friends.”

and you two meant it. there were no tears, and no broken hearts (that you would like to admit). it was just a simple case of the right person and the wrong time, and as the years continued, you tried to convince yourself that it was just nothing. that jungwon was not your “right” anything- he was just your best friend, nothing more, nothing less. 

you were almost successful. until your last year of high school approached. 

you and jungwon kept your word, you stayed friends. always being seen together; walking to class, walking home, studying in the library, eating lunch in the cafeteria. 

people still believed you were together, and you always had to correct them, because no you and jungwon were no longer together and no you were not a thing.

they never believed you, though. 

there was always a small part of you that wanted to say yes when someone would ask. that you and jungwon were a thing and that he was yours and you were his. but you never did, callingyourself crazy for even thinking of doing so. 

you found yourself doing it again as yuna had asked you earlier in the week. 

yuna was the new girl this year, having transferred from jyp high. from what you heard, she was nice, smart, and she was gorgeous. you were never one to put yourself down, but you couldn’t say that you didn’t feel insecure standing next to her. 

“no, jungwon and i are not dating,” you smiled politely. it was almost like a script at this point. “we’re just good friends.”

“that’s good to hear,” yuna smiled, her eyes sparkling. “i just wanted to ask him out, but i wasn’t going to if you had a thing!”

“oh, you’re thinking of confessing to him?” you questioned. there was that little part of you again. the part that always said no! tell them you’re a thing! tell them to not do it!

“yeah, he’s in a bunch of my classes. he’s super smart and polite and he always knows how to make me laugh. and he has such pretty eyes,” she sighed dreamily as her mouth formed into a lovesick smile. 

“well, he has that effect on people,” you grinned. 

i would know, you thought.

 “i say go for it! he’s not particularly interested in anyone, you have a good chance.”

“you really think so?” she asked, eyes wide. 

god, i hope not, you thought. as shitty as it was, you didn’t want jungwon to move on. you felt sick at the thought of him being with someone else. 

“why not?” you said instead. “he’ll be at the library after school today studying, i’m supposed to meet him, but i can just tell him something came up.” 

“oh my god, you’re the best!” she squealed, engulfing you in a hug. “thank you thank you thank you.”

“you’re welcome,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around her, ignoring the green monster growing within you.

—----

it had been four days since your conversation with yuna. every time you saw him, you waited for him to bring up the date with baited breath- but he hadn’t said anything. not yet at least.

or maybe yuna simply didn’t ask him on a date. that’s what you were secretly hoping, at least.

it seemed hoping wasn’t enough. on the fifth day jungwon approached you from down the hall with those twinkling eyes and a bright smile you love so much, he seemed more energetic than usual with a little hop in his step. 

“you’re not gonna believe what happened today!” he exclaimed as he reached you at your locker. 

you could believe it. you were the one who hooked yuna up after all. yet you feigned curiosity as you looked at him quizzically, “what is it?”

“yuna asked me on a date! me! of all people! she’s so cool and smart and nice and pretty,” he said with a dreamy look on his face. 

you knew that look. the far away gaze as he thought of her. it was one you would never forget. it’s how he used to look at you. that lovesick grin and those twinkling eyes.

 it had never bothered you before when jungwon had crushes on other girls, because well, that’s all they were. they never escalated into anything more. looking at his lovestruck expression, realization hit that jungwon wasn’t yours anymore. 

you shouldn’t have thought of it that way. you should be happy for him! you should’ve been celebrating with him and cheering him on!  

you couldn’t help the bittersweet smile on your face as you replied, “oh, well that’s nice.”

his smile faltered slightly at your expression, concern slowly forming on his face.  

“are you okay?” he asked. 

“i’m fine, don’t worry,” you said, regaining your composure. “i’m happy for you! and don’t worry about spending less time with me, you’re gonna be a busy guy now! with a girlfriend…”

“okay, she is not my girlfriend. and even if she was, I would never ditch you!” 

“yeah whatever you say, loverboy,” you joked, giving him a playful nudge with your shoulder. 

“no seriously, y/n,” he replied, softly. “are you okay with yuna and i being a thing? i just don’t want it to be weird because you and i used to be a thing, and i know we’re both over that but i just wanted to make sure-,”

“what, me?” you scoffed, cutting the boy off. “what you and i had wasn’t serious, it was just some dumb high school fling.”

even as you spoke those words, you knew they weren’t true. it was more than just a fling. you loved him and maybe you still did. 

silence hung between you, the hallway getting quieter as the remaining students scrambled to their classes, the late bell ringing, leaving you and jungwon in the hallway alone. 

he looked hurt at what you said. you immediately wanted to take it back, to say you didn’t mean it and that he was your first love and you didn’t want him going on that date with yuna. 

“sorry, i shouldn’t have said that,” you muttered, not being able to meet his eyes and instead turning to close your locker. 

“no, you don’t have anything to apologize for,” he replied, as he started to back away, making his way to his class down the hall. “you’re right, it was just a fling, and honestly, it’s so weird to think of us as a couple.” 

it was like your world was falling apart around you as he spoke. did you interpret his hurt expression wrong? maybe this all was one-sided. did he not feel his heart breaking like you did? did he not wonder occasionally (or everyday) how his life would be if you were still together? did he not miss what you had?

maybe there really was nothing between you and jungwon but friendship. 

“yeah, so weird,” you awkwardly smiled, walking to catch up with him. “but you and i, we’re good, right?”

“yep, no worries,” he grinned back. 

“good,” you smiled. “so when’s your date?” 

his eyes brightened ever so slightly as you asked. he started to describe his date– how he was going to take her to the beach and have a picnic and play in the sand. 

you nodded along, your mind wandering off to when jungwon would take you on beach dates, burying him in the sand, splashing him with water and swimming away before he could splash you back. 

you looked over at the boy in question, his starry eyes wide as he talked about his date plans, his smile wide and giddy, his tone as sweet as honey as he talked about her. 

you knew you shouldn’t villainize yuna– she was a nice girl, a very nice one. it wasn’t her fault you were still in love with jungwon, and it surely wasn’t her fault that she liked him. it’s not like you could choose who you could fall in love with. 

you of all people would know. 

so you smiled and nodded along as you walked him to class, listening to him go on and on about his plans. you finally settled with the fact then and there, that jungwon would never be yours again. you had to let go. 

—--------

it has been six months since that day. the day that you had decided to give up. yuna and jungwon have been inseparable since then. 

he kept to his word though; still studying with you after school, showing up when you needed him, hanging out together. sometimes yuna would tag along, which you didn’t mind. she was fun to be around. 

you also didn’t mind being the third wheel when she was around, instead teasing the couple and even offering to take pictures for them. they were a lovely couple and they were seemingly happy– jungwon especially, and that was all that mattered. 

the school year was coming to an end, and seeing as it was your senior year, people were throwing parties almost every weekend. 

you went every once in a while, had some fun, did some underage drinking, even flirted with a couple of people. 

tonight was the party though. 

intak was throwing his first party of the year, and everyone knew his parties were legendary. 

you sat in the uber with jungwon and yuna, anticipating the night before you. you were excited, to say the least. the last time you went to a party was a  month ago, and you were ready to have fun. you even put on your best party outfit for tonight!

you arrived at intak’s house (or more like a mansion), and started to make your way inside until jungwon stopped you. 

“wait! before we go in, i think we should go over some basic safety rules!” jungwon exclaimed. 

you rolled your eyes with a small laugh as you replied, “only you would go over safety rules at a party.” 

“i’m serious, y/n, really bad things could happen,” he shot back with a pointed expression. 

“okay wonie, go ahead, we’re all ears,” yuna smiled supportively.

you ignored the slight heart ache at yuna using your old nickname for jungwon- the one you used when you were together. 

get it together, y/n you thought. letting go, remember?  

you instead smiled and nodded reassuringly at jungwon, who looked over at you to make sure you were paying attention. 

he sighed before continuing, “okay, i won’t be doing any drinking so i can babysit you guys all night. if you need to use the bathroom give your drinks to me so i can watch them. and y/n, if you leave the party at any point, for any reason, please let me know first.”

“sir, yes sir,” you muttered. 

“now let’s go have some fun!” yuna exclaimed, dragging the both of you by the wrists. 

you finally entered the house, where there seemed to be everyone from your school. even kids who graduated last year were in attendance, and as you searched the party for a familiar face that wasn’t jungwon or yuna, intak strolled over, a wide smile on his face. 

“you guys made it!” he shouted over the loud thumping of the music. he was wearing a letterman jacket with a white shirt underneath, and a pair of baggy straight legged jeans. the outfit looked so good on him that you had almost forgotten that you were talking to intak of all people. 

“you look nice, y/n,” he grinned.

you would’ve had a crush on him if he didn’t flirt with every girl he laid eyes on, and it seemed like his victim of the night was you. but damn did he look good right now. 

intak wasn’t a bad guy, he seemed harmless, not like the guys who wouldn’t take no for an answer. he just always flirted, with no intentions of making anything serious. most of the girls he talked to never knew the latter though. 

but you thought it couldn’t hurt, you were here to have fun, and if flirting with intak was the way to do it, then so be it. 

you saw jungwon step forward, about to tell intak to back off and go flirt with someone else, causing you to put your hand on his arm to stop him. 

you also noticed how yuna examined the scene in front of her; jungwon trying to be your knight in shining armor, and you with your hand on his arm to stop him. her eyes narrowed slightly in thought as you dropped your hand and turned to intak. 

“why don’t you get me a drink and then we can talk?” you smiled dazzlingly. you usually reserved smiles like that for when you wanted to flirt and get wasted, and just as usual, it worked like a charm.

“i’ll be right back then,” intak smiled, before making his way through the crowd of bodies in search of a drink for you. 

“really, y/n, intak out of all people?” jungwon questioned, arms crossed. 

“yeah, and what about it?” you replied, feeling slightly annoyed at his tone of voice. he had never acted this way towards you before, but you didn’t like it. it wasn’t his business who you flirted with. he talked to you like you were an idiot and you hated the thought of him looking down on you.  

yuna awkwardly stood between the two of you, not wanting to be in the middle of your fight, but not wanting to go off by herself at a party filled with people she barely knew. 

“‘what about it?’” jungwon mocked your voice in a high pitched tone. “you know how he is, don’t be dumb.”

“dumb? i’m here to have fun, jungwon, not to play third wheel again,” you snapped back. “and why does it matter, you’re not my boyfriend, and you’re not my brother, so it’s really none of your fucking business.”

yuna had been looking back and forth between you and jungwon, watching as you glared at each other, waiting for someone to say something. it was like watching a tennis match. 

at that moment, intak arrived, back with a red solo cup in hand. 

“a drink for the prettiest girl here,” he announced, handing the cup over to you. 

“why thank you love,” you replied with an innocent smile as you looked over at jungwon, still glaring at you, his arms crossed against his chest.

ignoring him, you took a sip of the drink you were given, your face scrunching up at the bitter taste. 

“hey intak, why don’t we go dance?” you asked, reaching for his hand. 

“that sounds like fun,” he replied with a smile of his own before you led him to the dance floor, leaving an enraged jungwon, and a slightly annoyed yuna behind you.

—-----

yuna had seen the way jungwon looked at you. she might have been a bit oblivious at first, but as time went on and she spent more time with the two of you, it became more and more apparent– jungwon had never gotten over you. 

at first yuna thought she could sway him, to get him to fall for her the way he fell for you. but it never worked. he looked at you like you were his own personal angel. no matter where you were, who you were with, how you looked, he was absolutely enraptured by you, and oh, how yuna wished he looked at her like that. 

it had been fifty minutes since your small tussle, and yuna and jungwon sat outside, occupying two pool chairs as he angrily took sips of his water. 

“it’s like she doesn’t even care, she just ran off with him knowing he’ll never want anything serious, knowing he’s gonna lead her on, and i swear when she comes crying to me, i’m gonna tell her ‘i told you’ right to her stupid dumb face,” he rambled, placing his bottle of water harder on the table than he intended to, spilling droplets in the process. 

“well, she’s young and single, and she just wants to have fun baby, there’s nothing wrong with that,” yuna replied. “and she has a point, you’re not her brother or anything, so why do you care so much?”

jungwon  looked up at yuna, not being able to ignore the bitter tone in her voice, “wait, you’re supposed to be on my side.”

“i’m not on anyone’s side, i’m just asking as your girlfriend why you care so much. because honestly, if i didn’t know any better, i would think that you were still in love with her,” yuna sighed, exasperated. 

“i am not in love with her, i like you!” he exclaimed, way faster than he should have. 

yuna wanted to believe him. she wanted to ignore every bit of doubt in her body and believe every lie he fed to her, but she couldn’t. not when she knew you loved him too. it was heartbreaking, really. to watch the person you love pine over someone else. but it was even worse knowing the feelings were reciprocated. 

“don’t lie to me, jungwon,” she deadpanned, feeling her eyes start to water with tears of frustration. “i see the way you look at her, and i know for sure you haven’t gotten over her. you have never once looked at me the way you look at her, and if you like her, just say that. just say that and we can end things here, without having to make this any more heartbreaking than it already is.”

yuna didn’t want to cry. the last thing she wanted to do was cry, but the feelings of anger and embarrassment had overwhelmed her, causing a few traitorous tears to spill. she was angry at herself for letting it get this far, for falling in love with a boy that she knew would never love her back. 

but she was also embarrassed. embarrassed that she had even tried to make an effort, that she had thought she could win him over. 

she wiped her face with the back of her hand, only for more to spill out, a sob fighting for an escape from her quivering lips. 

jungwon raised his hand to wipe the tears away for her, to cup her face and tell her everything would be okay and that he was sorry. but what was he sorry for? sorry for trying to keep you away from intak? or sorry that maybe yuna was right and he did still love you?

just as he opened his mouth to speak, you stumbled out, words slurring and barely able to walk as you stumbled your way over to them. 

“hey guys!” you exclaimed, as a worried intak came rushing out the house behind you. 

“oh god, y/n, are you okay?” jungwon asked, immediately walking over to your side to support your stumbling figure. yuna would have felt bitter over jungwon rushing to your side faster than he had ever run to hers. yet, despite the devil on her shoulder that told her to be petty, she instead felt worried for you. you could barely even stand up straight.

“what the fuck did you do to her?” jungwon asked, throwing an accusatory look at intak.

“nothing dude, i promise! she was the one who wanted to drink, she had like 5 drinks within the span of like, 10 minutes,” intak replied, panicked. “is she going to be okay? does she have a way to get home safely?”

jungwon looked from yuna to you, who was falling asleep just standing there.

“just take her home,” yuna sighed. “i’m not gonna make you choose because we all know who you’d choose every single time.”

“yuna it’s not like that,” jungwon groaned. “listen, i’ll bring her home, and then i’ll come over tomorrow and we can talk this out, okay? i promise.”

“okay, just get her home safe first,” yuna replied. 

you might have been the biggest obstacle in her relationship, but you were still a nice girl, and you had technically done nothing wrong, so yuna had no reason to want to keep you and jungwon apart. you were also wasted as fuck and there was no way you would be able to get home by yourself without something horrible potentially happen to you. 

jungwon grabbed his almost full water bottle from the table he was sitting at, muttering that he would “need it to sober you up”.

he gave yuna one last reassuring smile before he walked away, you on his back as he tried his best to carry you home. 

yuna sighed as she watched you go. she felt like something bad would happen today, something worse than her argument with jungwon, and she wanted nothing else but to go home and cry. 

all she could do was trust jungwon, even if she knew she already lost him, even if she knew she was never a contestant in the first place.

—------

jungwon almost did it. 

he almost carried you all the way home, but his legs felt like they were gonna give out once he reached the park near your house, and he decided then and there that he needed a break. 

he sat you on the playground set, sitting beside you with a huff. 

you were awake by this point, taking long sips of the water bottle jungwon had given you. you wanted to sober up by the time you got home, but it wasn’t really working, with your words still slurring slightly and your mind all dizzy.

the two of you sat in silence as you gazed at the stars and jungwon thought of his argument with yuna. 

maybe she was right. 

even now, as he glanced over at you, studying the stars, his heart skipped a beat and he felt his face warm up. 

“do you remember when you asked me to be your girlfriend in this park?” you chuckled. “we were so young then, it feels like forever ago.”

jungwon was thrown off by the sudden conversation starter, but still smiled, “yeah, i remember it very well. i felt like i was gonna throw up because i was so nervous.”

you turned your head to look at him and giggled as his smile grew wider. 

“what, what are you laughing at?” 

“nothing, i was just so in love with you then. i used to think that we would be together forever and ride off into the sunset in a carriage.” 

jungwon inspected you as you talked, trying to decipher if there was any meaning behind your words or if it was just the liquor talking. 

“i just thought we were some high school fling?” he half-joked as he nudged you with his shoulder. he didn’t want it to seem like he was serious if you were sobering up. 

he felt his heart start to race as he stared at your slightly flushed face from the drinks you had, your hair fluttering as a soft breeze blew by. you were everything that jungwon had ever wanted, and here you were, telling him how much you used to love him. 

wait, no, what the hell am i doing? jungwon thought to himself. it wasn’t fair to yuna. it was already unfair to her that he only started to date her to get over you. he thought that if he dated her long enough, he would stop loving you and love her instead. 

and he genuinely thought it worked. fuck, he thought. i’m such a shitty person. 

until he saw you with intak, flirting, dancing with him, laughing at his jokes, he had never felt so jealous in his life, and yuna had noticed. and she was upset, which was fair. what wasn’t fair was jungwon using her to get over you. 

use. he hated the icky feeling that word gave him. 

“i lied,” you muttered, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

“what did you say?” jungwon asked, making sure that he had heard you right. 

“i lied,” you repeated, eyes on everything but him. “i loved you, and i think i still do.” 

your eyes finally met his as you continued, “you are everything to me, jungwon. i’ve been in love with you since forever, and i only agreed to break up because you said you wanted to.”

jungwon could feel his heart starting to beat faster as he searched your eyes for any hesitation, any sign that this was a lie, or some sort of joke. his heart beat so fast he felt like he was gonna explode as he looked into your eyes, so earnest and so genuine and so filled with love that he knew you had sobered up. 

you reached for his hands in his lap, interlacing your fingers with his. 

“i can’t keep this from you,” you breathed. “i love you, yang jungwon, and i know you’re dating yuna, but i just have to tell you that i love you, that i always have and it’s okay if you don’t feel the same. i don’t expect you to leave her for me or anything, but i can’t help it anymore. i love you, i love you, i love you.”

silence hung over the two of you as he tried to form a coherent sentence after your confession. it felt like suddenly his brain didn’t know how to make him talk, to make him say i love you too, or to make him do anything, really. 

a minute passed, and then two as jungwon searched your eyes with the same desperation yours had– desperate to love and to be loved by the person sitting in front of you. 

jungwon didn’t know who leaned closer first. he thought it was you but maybe it was him. he didn’t even feel like he was in control of his body as he leaned closer and closer, his hand moving to hold your face, searching your face for any hesitation, for any kind of doubt.

 you were so close that he could smell the perfume you sprayed before you left your house and the drinks that you had earlier that night. 

impatient, jungwon finally closed the gap between the two of you, your soft lips colliding with his. he could have kissed you forever, wanting to stay forever in time there. until realization hit him.

yuna.

he pulled away abruptly, your eyes still closed as you chased his lips with yours. he would have found it cute if he weren’t trying his best not to panic right now. he just kissed you. while he was still dating yuna. 

he thought of the look on yuna’s face if she found out– the angry, hurt expression that she had at the party, and even worse, the tears. he would break the poor girl’s heart. 

“i should go,” jungwon breathed, quickly standing up from his seat beside you. “it’s almost past my curfew.”

“wait, jungwon,” you said, grabbing onto the sleeve of his shirt before he could walk away. “i think we should talk about this before you go.”

“yeah, we can talk later,” he replied dismissively. “i just need some time to think.”

you opened your mouth to say something else– anything else to make him stay, but closed it as you saw he was already speed-walking in the direction of his house. 

you thought that you would lose him forever after your breakup.  you had almost lost jungwon once, and you were nearly positive that you won’t be so lucky to keep him this time. 

you felt sick to your stomach, and you didn’t know if it was from the drinks or from the events that had just occurred, but nonetheless you felt nauseous. 

you hunched over as you started to gag, your vomit flowing out of your mouth, tears streaming down your face. 

you wiped your mouth with your sleeve, rinsing your mouth out with water as you started to tear up. 

before you knew it, you felt sobs rising, your nose stuffed from crying,  your throat getting dry from the sobbing. the embarrassment and sorrow was finally catching up to you– all of the years of repressed love you felt for jungwon, all of the embarrassment from him leaving after you confessed, embarrassment from being a homewrecker– it all came crashing down on you. 

you couldn’t go home like this. you were sober enough to know that, with your tear streaked face, ruined makeup, and vomit smelling breath your parents would put two and two together. 

your hands shakily reached for your phone in your back pocket, dialing your brother’s number and waiting for him to pick up with baited breath. your brother was your only hope. 

“hello?” 

“chan?” you breathed into the phone. “i need to sleepover at your place.”

—----

yuna hated this. 

the waiting, the feeling of dread as she sat on her bed, awaiting jungwon’s arrival. 

the fight that had ensued was horrible, but she believed she made a valid point. if he likes y/n so much he should just go be with her, she thought bitterly. 

jungwon had texted her last night at around 1 in the morning, just to make sure she got home safe. yuna didn’t respond. she instead left him on read, still pissed off from the fight.

she used to get butterflies when he would send her texts to make sure she got home safe. but now she didn’t know if he did it because he liked her or if it was just out of common courtesy. 

yuna was about to just walk to his house herself before she heard a knock on her door. 

“hey it’s uh, me,” she heard jungwon’s muffled voice through the door. “is it okay if i come in?” 

“yeah, let’s get this over with.”

she couldn’t meet his eyes as he walked in, striding over to the corner of her bed. yuna hated waiting, but she now felt dread as the pair sat in silence for a bit, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. she had sat nowhere near him.

 usually she’d be cuddled into his side, but she instead opted to sit at the head of her bed, seemingly as far away from him as possible. she was worried that if she was too close to him, she’d crack; she’d look at his doe eyes and forgive him and that would ruin the entire point of her argument. 

“so,” she cleared her throat, interrupting the silence. “did y/n get home safe?” 

“yeah, she’s at her brother’s apartment. he texted me when she got there.”

 “‘when she got there?’ did you not walk her there?” 

“no, he picked her up from the park near our houses. but anyways, i have something important to tell you.” 

yuna felt even more dread seeping into her as he finished his sentence. she should’ve seen this coming from the start. here it comes: the breakup. 

“i kissed y/n last night.” 

yuna’s eyes widened in surprise. she had expected the breakup, yes. she knew jungwon was emotionally cheating, but now he was physically cheating? 

“wait, are you being serious right now?” she laughed in astonishment. she couldn’t believe the audacity of the man sitting in front of her. 

“i know it’s bad. i feel horrible, because an amazing woman like you should never be treated as horrible as i’ve treated you, and i am so so sorry,” jungwon started, tearing up from how bad he felt. “all of the apologies in the world could never make up for how i’ve treated you. i’ve made you feel terrible and i’m just making it worse by breaking up with you to be with her.” 

“i love y/n, yuna. and i’m sorry that i didn’t tell you, or that you had to find out for yourself before i even knew. you are so so perfect yuna-,”

“but i’m just not perfect for you?” she replied, tears starting to form as she breathed those words. 

the silence that followed was more than enough to answer her question. 

she hated this. she hated this so so much. but she didn’t hate you, or jungwon. she just hated how love worked, how she had to fall in love with the one boy who couldn’t love her back. she hated that she gave her heart away to a boy that was never going to belong to her– not fully. 

she wanted to scream, to throw something, hell, maybe even hit him. she instead took a deep breath, composing herself before she said, “okay. go be with her then.” 

jungwon looked over at her, wanting nothing but to comfort yuna. he may not be in love with her, but he did love her, and he still cared for her. 

“i’m sorry, yuna,” jungwon said instead. “you’re an amazing girl, but you should never be anyone’s second choice, and i’m sorry for making you feel like mine.” 

yuna couldn’t even look at him, fidgeting with the strings of the hoodie she wore. 

“just leave, please,” she muttered. 

she didn’t want him to see her cry, he had already broken her once, she didn’t want him to see her fall apart again. 

with a guilty expression, jungwon hurried away, also not wanting to see her cry again. he felt gross. he felt disgusted with himself for treating her that way. he didn’t like the person he was with yuna, and he felt sick thinking about how heartbroken she was; how she was so hurt that she couldn’t even look at him. 

—------

it has been two weeks since your kiss with jungwon, and you hadn’t heard a word from him since. not a single call or text, hell, he didn’t even acknowledge your existence when you walked by him in the halls. 

you had seen yuna around, but seeing as jungwon wasn’t joined at her hip like he used to be, you assumed that things didn’t end quite so well between the two. knowing that you were the cause made you want to never show your face ever again, especially because of the dirty looks yuna’s friends have been giving you. 

you were relieved it was the last day of the school year; you’d never have to see yuna again and feel the guilt at seeing the sadness in her eyes. 

you walked into the bathroom, wanting to wash your hands after eating your lunch, when you saw yuna, touching up on her makeup in the mirror. she looked at you through the mirror above the sink, before going back to her makeup. 

the tension was so thick you didn’t know if you should just leave or hide in a bathroom stall until she left. 

“i’m not gonna bite, you know,” yuna chuckled. 

you smiled back nervously as you started to make your way to the sink. 

“yuna i’m really sorry,” you sighed, mustering whatever courage and dignity you had left. 

“it’s okay,” yuna replied, finally meeting your gaze. “although it was wrong for you guys to have kissed, i saw the breakup coming from miles away. he was never mine to begin with.” 

you were taken aback just by how calm she was, with the way she spoke those words with such elegance and grace. she had every right to be angry with you, to yell at you and call you a homewrecker. 

“even if you did think you were going to break up, that still doesn’t excuse what i did, and i really am sorry,” you said, trying to project every feeling of sympathy and sincerity you could in that one sentence. “i’m not asking you to forgive me, or jungwon, but i just wanted to tell you that you really are a cool person, and you’ve always been so kind to me, even now. all of this for a boy, and he hasn’t even talked to me in the past two weeks.”

“wait, he hasn’t reached out to you at all?” yuna asked, confused. “i thought he would say something to you at least.” 

“did he say he would?” you replied, confusion reaching you as well. 

“no,” yuna replied, fixing her hair in the mirror. “i just assumed so because he’s in love with you.”

once again, you were stunned by her nonchalance. “he’s not in love with me.” 

“don’t be silly,” yuna smiled softly. “i can’t tell if dating jungwon was the best or worst six months of my life, to be honest.” 

“don’t get me wrong, he was a good boyfriend,” yuna backtracked quickly after seeing the guilt on your face. “he did the usual boyfriend stuff, and he really did try, but i could just always tell that his heart was always yours.” 

you couldn’t meet yuna’s gaze as she said this, your face hot with shame. you felt so bad for her, and you didn’t quite know what to say in response. 

“i’m sorry that things ended this way,” you finally said. 

“it’s okay, it was gonna happen sooner or later,” yuna replied. “but if i’m right, then you should probably go talk to him, he’s probably going insane with guilt right now over me, and over you. bro’s got a lot on his plate.” 

you gave a small chuckle at the last sentence, making yuna smile a bit. 

“well thank you for the talk yuna, but i’ve gotta go. i think i need to go find jungwon.” 

yuna felt her heart break a bit at the words, but she smiled anyways and said bye as she watched you leave the bathroom. yuna didn’t know if she was supposed to cry or feel happy for you and jungwon, but she did know that she was right. again. she knew his heart had always belonged to you. anyone could see that. 

—--------

trying to find jungwon was easier than you expected. he was sitting on a swing, at the park that you became his, then wasn’t his anymore, and then confessed your love to him. there was so much that had happened at this park that it made your head hurt a bit just thinking about it. 

“is it okay if i sit here?” you asked, motioning to the swing beside him. 

“of course you can,” jungwon replied. 

the two of you sat in silence.

“i don’t think we should be friends anymore,” you finally spoke up. 

he jerked his head to look at you, shock coursing through him. “wait, why not?”

you took a deep breath before saying, “i can’t be friends with you anymore because i’m in love with you. there hasn’t been a moment since i’ve met you that i haven’t been.” 

his heart skipped a beat at your words. 

this was it, this is what you’d been waiting for since the day you laid eyes on jungwon. but you didn’t think it would go quite like this. you sat there for a moment as jungwon studied you, and you wished he would say something, anything. 

“but did you ever consider how i felt?” he finally asked, his voice cracking ever so slightly. “have you ever considered that maybe i’ve felt the same way?” 

you felt your breath catch in your throat as he continued, “i’ve seen you everyday since we were five when your family moved in next door. but i didn’t really see you until freshman year, sitting in class by the window, your hair flowing from the breeze that came through, doodling in your notebook instead of paying attention to the lesson. and when you caught me staring, you smiled and waved, and i swear i fell in love with you that day. that day, i knew my heart would always be yours.” 

“so please,” jungwon pleaded. “please, do whatever you want with it. you could break it a million times over and it would still be yours.”

now this, this was exactly you had always dreamed of. 

you couldn’t stop yourself from kissing him, trying to convey all the repressed love you’ve had for him for years through the kiss. you loved him. you loved every single part of jungwon, every flaw, every imperfection, everything that made him him. 

“so does this mean we’re official?” jungwon grinned as he pulled away, a playful look in his eyes. you smiled back, feeling the heart eyes in your gaze and the way your heart melted just by looking at him. 

“took you long enough.” 

#kenzie.posts <3 #enhypen angst #enhypen smut #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen #enha smut #enha angst #enha imagines #enha fluff #enha x reader #enha scenarios #enhypen jungwon #jungwon imagines #jungwon #jungwon enhypen #jungwon smut #jake sim smut #jungwon x reader #jungwon fluff #jake sim x reader #jake sim imagines #sunghoon smut #heeseung smut #heeseung enhypen #heeseung x reader #heeseung fluff #heeseung imagines

[saltandburnheathens]

Good morning Miss Winnie. (Part II)

Part I

Pairing: Dean Winchester X Reader.

Rating: Gen.

Summary:

Two weeks after Dean became a father, it's time to jump back on the hunting horse. But he's hesitant.

Notes: Non-canon, no time line. And I don't ever want kids. But I just became an aunt and I sort of need to get this out of my system! Short and I'm not promising that I won't continue this. Who knows really. Finally this was written after I'd taken my usual nightly gummy.

“Bonnie?” 

You shot Dean a look across the kitchen. He was cooking eggs on the stove while you were nursing. Castiel was the only other member of the bunker awake at six a.m. and, fortunately, occupied the library. It wasn’t that you cared about the other men seeing you breastfeeding, it was how they reacted to it. Both became very awkward and outwardly attempted to look anywhere but at your breasts.

“You can’t accept Winnie, but you pick Bonnie?” 

Dean shrugged. 

“I was just thinking if we had a boy we could call him Clyde. We’d have our own little gang.” 

“Firstly, I’m not doing this again. And secondly, Bonnie and Clyde were felons.”

“What do you mean ‘you’re not doing this again?’ Don’t most women go crazy for more kids? They smell the baby's head and some hoo-doo helps them forget about the pain and bodily fluids.” 

“Yeah, well. You try being in labour for damn near forty eight hours and shitting yourself in a room full of people. Including the man you love. Then come back and tell me you’ve forgotten about it and wanna do it all over again.” 

“Point taken.” Dean laughed, plating up eggs and bacon for them both, “And you didn’t shit yourself by the way.”

“I didn’t?”

“I think I’d remember.”

You smiled at the plate of food and carefully lifted the baby from your breast. She’d long since stopped feeding and was instead squirming, ready to be winded. 

“I can take it from here.” Dean reached down and lifted the little girl up into his arms. He held her upright against his chest and began rubbing circles into her small back, “There we go kiddo. Get it up.” 

“Be careful.” You warned. 

“I’m not taking any chances.” Dean gestured to the polka-dot muslin cloth on his shoulder. 

You watched as he gently walked your daughter around the kitchen, her little body squirming while he cooed into her ear. She made several little squeaking noises, threatening to cry, only to be brought back to earth by her father’s tender voice. 

“Come on now, no tears. I’ve got you.” 

Your eyes locked with Dean’s for a moment, both reflecting a soft smile. He was proving to be an excellent father, not that you’d doubted him for a second. But Sam had. He’d been very vocal about Dean knowing nothing about babies and how, despite the fact that he was happy for you both, he thought this whole ‘raising a family thing’ was a bad idea.

“You guys are great together! But I don’t think this is the right environment for a kid.”  Or something along the same bullshit. 

Dean had been adamant about her though. He damn near refused to speak to Sam until he stopped with his questions and logical answers. Sure you both had been sceptical about bringing a child into this life, but neither of you had actively prevented it. If it happened, it happened. 

Speaking of the devil. Sam groaned and stretched his arms above his head, stumbling into the kitchen. He dug the palm of his hands into his eyes, drawing them down his face afterwards. 

“Morning. Coffee’s in the pot.” Dean said, his voice shifting from Dad to brother by just an octave. 

Sam poured himself a hefty mug before offering more to the kitchen. You declined but insisted that he fill up Deans. 

“He’ll need the caffeine for your hunt.” 

“Oh so you’re back on the job then?” Sam questioned, his eyebrows rising. 

Dean’s brow furrowed as he shifted the little one on his chest. He searched her face, the cogs visibly turning in his head. 

“I’ll get back to you on that one.” 

“What? I thought you’d be happy to get back on the horse.” You’d assumed that after being out of work for almost two weeks that Dean would be craving a hunt, but his face said otherwise. 

“Yeah. I mean I am. But she - “ 

“She’ll be right here when you get back.” You interrupted, “It’s a simple in and out job. Right Sam?” 

“Sure. Run of the mill ghost in the attic for some old friend’s of Bobby’s.” Sam took a lengthy sip of his coffee, “And it pays too.” 

“See? And we could use the cash for Winnie.” 

Sam scoffed, barely holding onto the coffee in his mouth. He looked between you both and then to his niece. 

“Winnie?”

“Short for Winchester but not her name. Just a placeholder until we find the perfect one.” You inform, “But what’s so wrong with Winnie anyway? It’s a perfectly acceptable name.” 

“Nothing wrong with it at all. It’s just not what I pictured you both to come up with.” 

“Fortunately it’s not.” Dean added, shifting the baby from one arm to the other as she reached up with her little hands, “As for the hunt, I’m not sure.”

He offered a finger for her hand to close around, eyes never leaving her. the features on his face softened, lips almost pulling downwards into a frown. 

You exchanged a knowing look with Sam. 

“If this is about Win- her- you don’t need to worry. I can cope fine on my own for one night.” You offered

“Yeah but what if it isn’t just one evening?” Dean answered, his voice doing nothing to disguise the concern he was feeling. 

“It’s only a few towns over. We’ll be home by four am - ” 

“But what if something goes wrong? Huh? Then what? I’ve left my wife without a husband, my little girl without a father. And -” 

You jumped to your feet at the distress in his voice and rushed to loop an arm around his middle.  

“Don’t say that. It’s a run of the mill job, something you guys have done one thousand times over. Nothin’ bad is gonna happen other than a few bruises.” You laid your head on his shoulder, eyes coming to settle on the little lady in his arms, “I can deal with those. And she’ll not know any different.” 

With a deep sigh, Dean kissed you gently on the head. It was an uncharacteristic display of affection, especially in front of his brother, but you hadn’t the heart to react. You knew he was feeling vulnerable, that much was clear in his reaction, and to draw attention to it would only make things worse. Instead you settled against him and allowed his warmth and the soothing sounds of your baby to still your own anxiety. 

You’d be lying if you didn’t admit that some part of you was fearful of your husband walking out of the bunker and never coming home. Hunting was a dire job, one which had claimed the life of many of your comrades. Dean may be an experienced hunter, renowned in his own right, but he certainly wasn’t immune to unfortunate outcomes. That much had been proven time and time again. 

Lost in thought, the only sounds in the kitchen were the gentle fussing of your daughter and the whirring of the circulation fans. 

Finally Castiel broke the silence with his sudden entrance. He appeared in a flurry of feathers, one coming to land on the table top by your abandoned coffee cup. 

“We have doors, Cas. Use ‘em.” Dean warned, pulling your daughter closer to his chest as she began to fuss. 

“I’m sorry, Dean. It’s a force of habit.” Castiel answered, taking a seat next to Sam, “I startled her.” 

“You think?!” 

You moved to take the baby from Dean but he shook his head, whispering a small ‘I got this’ back to you as he started to rock her from side to side. But it was no good, her cries grew louder and more furious. You began to wonder how those big sounds could even come from such a small creature. 

Before you could offer your help again Castiel brushed past you. 

“I didn’t mean to scare her.” He said, coming to stand in front of Dean “Is there anything I can do?” 

“Here” to your surprise, Dean held your daughter out towards the angel, “You can settle her down while I grab her diaper bag.” 

You lean in and quickly sniff.  

“I don’t think she needs changed, D.”

“Well I don’t know what else to do. She -” 

Castiel reached forward and lifted the infant from Dean. He brought her to settle in the crook of his arm, offering up his fingers for her to grab at. Gradually she began to quiet, her hands reaching up for Castiel’s and her eyes wide, staring into his face. 

You and Dean watched on in outward confusion. Castiel, to your knowledge, had never handled a baby before. At least not in recent years. 

“How did you do that?” Dean asked almost aggressively, “She was cryin’ up a storm seconds ago and you just took her and nothing.”

“Did you use your grace?” Sam suggested. 

“She’s much too small to handle my grace in any capacity. It would kill her.” 

You considered jumping in and taking her from Castiel but stopped yourself. She was settled and happily holding onto the angel's fingers. No sense in ruining it. Beside you Dean was tense, clearly struggling with something along the same lines. His face was etched in hard lines and you could see his brows furrowing. 

Gently you looped your arm through his and guided him to his long forgotten coffee cup. He moved but his eyes never left you daughter in the angel’s arms. 

“So,” Sam cleared his throat, “About this hunt.” 

“What about it?” Dean glared at him over the rim of his cup. 

“Are you in or -” 

“He’s in.” You answer before the question could even be finished. 

“Wha - I -” 

“Oh come on. You got this. I can handle her and Cas will be here if I need any help. Right Cas?” The angel gave something akin to a positive response, “You have to get back out there at some point.”

Dean’s gaze flickered from Sam to you, finally coming to land on Castiel. He watched the angel gently swaying the little girl in his arms and the lines on his face began to soften. 

“Hmmm. You’re sure about this?” He asked. 

“Positive.” 

“If there’s any trouble, anything at all, you call me.” 

“Sure.” You smiled, “But I doubt Winnie will be as much of an issue as your malevolent spirit.” 

Dean chuckled, accompanied by Sam. 

“God, we’re really going to have to talk about her name when I get back.” 

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #dad!dean winchester #dad!dean

[maybankswhore]

𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀 , 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓?

“ yes i know that he’s my ex but can’t two people reconnect? i only see him as a friend. ”

SUMMARY: rafe cameron’s back in kildare and he’s got one thing on his mind: you.

PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem!reader.

WARNINGS: alcohol , cursing & heavy petting.

“ i only see him as a friend ” — the biggest lie i ever said. yes i know that he’s my ex but can’t two people reconnect? . . . i just tripped and fell into his bed. ”

“ haven’t heard from you in a couple of months but i’m out right now & i’m all fucked up & you’re calling my phone , you’re all alone & i’m sensin’ some undertone. & i’m right here with all my friends but you’re sending me your new address & i know we’re done & i know we’re through— ”

You and JJ had taken one too many tequila shots. Somehow you convinced herself it was fate , drowning in alcohol while thinking of him. It had been months since you and Rafe had broken up— months , and while you seemed to be over it just fine in front of everyone else , you knew you weren’t.

The last time you had seen him , you knew it was really over. It hadn’t felt like all the other fights especially not after what happened with the Sherriff and then his dad not too long after. With everything going on , the only good thing he really did back then was let you go while figuring his own shit out.

Everyone told you it was for the better. It was easier to forget with him away from Kildare and you had found yourself in a new group of friends that helped ease your transition from being Rafe’s girlfriend— to being a new and improved Y/N.

Was all of that progress really worth losing?

Hey. I’m back.

The text had illuminated your face in the night air. The wind whipping at you as you stood in place , looking at your phone. You knew it was Rafe because even though you had deleted his contact in a fit of rage and sadness not too long after the break–up , he was still the only person you knew who bothered to text with correct punctuation and capitalization. Blinking as you looked at it , you subconsciously glanced around to see if anyone had noticed knowing what they’d say if they did. Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard , debating responding.

You could always blame it on the alcohol , right?

oh.

Was all you said before your phone started ringing , and the number you had memorized by heart and never was able to forget popped up. Panicking while looking around , you rushed through the crowds of people to find a quiet spot away on the beach. You only hoped he’d give up and hang up before you found one. It was silly for you to be this excited , and even more so to be so quick in answering. But with those shots in mind , you pressed answer.

“Hey.”

Rafe’s voice made you shiver. It had been forever since you had heard it last. Swallowing the enormous lump in your throat , you opened your mouth to answer. “Who is this?” You asked , sounding unsure. You could hear him chuckling at your question— and you knew that he knew.

“Rafe.” He responded and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “Did you get my text?”

“Yeah.”

The music was still thumping but not close enough to where you couldn’t hear him shuffling around on the other end. “Where are you? What’s the noise?”

“Doesn’t matter.” You rolled your eyes. “Why did you call me Rafe? Like what do you want from me?”

“Just wanted to let you know I was back in town. . .” he trailed off. “I’ve missed you , you know.”

There it was. You almost groaned out loud as soon as he said it. Not because you didn’t like hearing it , but because you knew exactly where it’d lead to. Sighing as you rubbed a hand down your face , your lips pursed. “Somehow I doubt that.”

“Y/N—” Rafe started but you interrupted him.

“Seriously. What do you want?”

“To see you.” He said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Kelce and I just finished up in the apartment and you’re the first person I called.”

He was making it hard. The two of you were broken up and all for good reasons— but even though you couldn’t admit it out loud , you did miss him and you found yourself responding before processing what you said. “What apartment?”

“Where are you? I’ll come pick you up—”

“No!” You shouted , shutting your eyes in embarrassment as soon as you had. Rafe couldn’t pull up there. For one , it didn’t matter how ‘broken up’ the two of you were— you knew Rafe Cameron. Seeing you on the cut around JJ , John B especially , he wouldn’t like it. Your friends wouldn’t appreciate watching you getting in his truck either , and would definitely try talking you out of it. “I mean— send me your address and I’ll uber there.”

Rafe was silent and you thought he’d hang up. But you heard him mumble something to himself before feeling your phone vibrate. “I’m glad you’re coming , Y/N. I really did miss you. Send me a picture of whoever comes and gets you just in case.”

“Okay.”

You didn’t bother saying you missed him back regardless if you did or not. Saying things like that made it complicated. If anything you were only going to see him just to check up. Make sure he was okay. Sure Rafe had been shitty , did shitty things , but in the end Rafe had always loved you and the feeling was mutual. Things like that don’t just go away.

“ seein’ you tonight , it’s a bad idea , right? ”

You always you were getting yourself caught up in shit you shouldn’t be. How stupid could you be , really. Rafe was your ex for a reason. It took you so long to even get yourself to leave your room after it happened , to eat a proper meal. You were heartbroken.

“ seein’ you tonight , it’s a bad idea , right? ”

Of course it was a bad idea. It was! But what’s the worse that could happen? It was just one night. You shouldn’t , though. Not after everything. Not even if he didn’t mean all those things he said. Not even if he said how much he missed you and how genuine he sounded. This would blow up in your face.

But how bad was bad?

“ yes i know that he’s my ex! but can’t two people reconnect? i only see him as a friend. ”

As you walked back to the beach , you started the conversation in your head.

There were tons of people who were friends with their ex. Like , who else could know you better than a person like that? And so much time had passed that he was probably a different person now , just like you were. Your heart ached to see him again because it had been so long. You wanted to hear all about what he’s been up to , how he was dealing with everything. You still cared about him. You just didn’t love him.

You couldn’t , could you?

People reconnect with eachother all the time. Rafe was just a friend now. That was it.

Right?

the biggest lie i’ve ever said.

You told your friends you weren’t feeling good anymore. They were too drunk to really notice you looked fine. If anything you were sick to your stomach with nerves. JJ walked you to your Uber and hugged you goodbye , telling you to text him when you made it home.

You almost felt bad about lying.

The whole ride Rafe was texting you , he wasn’t ever a fan of you using Uber’s to get around. Always saying he was the safest option.

The apartments were nice. He was on the second floor and by the time you had gotten to his door , he was already standing in the doorway waiting for you. You tried playing it cool , but he had looked better than ever. Surely you had seen other people , other guys and maybe then they were hotter than he was. Or whatever you tried convincing yourself then.

But he looked different now. Older. There was something different about the atmosphere he brought. With his hair shaven away to nothing but a buzzcut— one that only someone like him could pull off so fucking well. So well actually , that it almost pissed you off. His upper lip held the tiniest bit of hair in a stache–esque way and if you hadn’t looked away , your knees would have given out.

“You look so pretty.” Was the first thing out of his mouth and you flushed , standing in front of him awkwardly. “You also look like you’ve been out.”

He tried not to think about who you were out with. Pushing down the familiarity of possession over you mixed with a bit of jealousy. It didn’t matter if the two of you were broken up— not to him , anyway. Rafe knew as soon as he could , he’d be going back to you. He hadn’t even bothered looking at another girl. But it would be selfish of him to expect the same.

“Are you gonna let me come in or what?” You shuffled on your feet as you ignored his words. Your eyes flashed behind him to peak in , wondering what the Rafe now lived like.

Clearing his throat , Rafe nodded. Moving back to let you come inside. Your eyes roamed the walls as you did. It was more simple than you imagined , the smell of new hit your nose so what he said earlier on the phone proved to be true. There were a few empty boxes laid around. Rafe was quiet as he let you wander around , leaning against the wall. His eyes roamed over you— taking you in. Everything in his body was burning , begging to close the gap between the two of you. He wasn’t lying when he said he had missed you. All of you.

You paused when you saw a picture of the two of you propped up in a picture frame one of the counters. The memory in the photo seeming ages ago. The two of you were only sixteen in the photo , his arm wrapped around you as showed off the horribly decorated Halloween cookies. Your fingers ghosted over it , finding your heart crying at it.

“It’s one of my favorite pictures of us.” Rafe said when he noticed what had stopped you. “Even if my hair was fucking terrible.”

You giggled at that. It was. Not at the time , though. At the time there had been no other boy who looked as handsome with handfuls of gel in their hair. The innocence in his face in the picture almost made you sad. “Mine’s our first Christmas—” you turned around to look at him , hands at your sides. “When I forced you to where the Santa costume for Wheezie and her friends.” Rose had taken that picture for you then. You were sitting in his lap , pretending you were talking to Santa about what you wanted for Christmas. Which he had listened to your silly , girly wishes and surprised you with a Barbie Dream House. Wheezie had been so jealous.

“Do you still have it?” Rafe questioned. His heart beating in his chest so loud that he wondered if you could hear it , too.

“Yeah.”

You can see the glimmer on his face as you answer him. Your eyes narrow as you cross your arms , shifting on your feet. With your heart thumping rapidly in your chest mixed in with the way he looks— you can feel it start bubbling in your stomach. “What’d you call me for , Rafe?”

“What’d you answer for , Y/N.” He quirked back , matching your stance.

“I didn’t know it was you.” You huffed out a lie.

By the way you avoided his eyes , he could tell you were lying. He also knew you well and knew that you never deleted contacts. “Yeah , sure.”

Knawing on the inside of your cheek , you stayed in place as Rafe slowly walked over to you. His eyes never leaving you as he treaded lightly , cautiously. Every part of you was screaming how bad of an idea this was but nothing in you was strong enough to move. The minute his hand had reached out to touch your cheek , your head lulled to the side to fall into it. A sigh left your mouth quietly. It had still felt the same. Nothing had changed.

“I meant it when I said I missed you.”

“ i only see him as a friend — i just tripped and fell into his bed. ”

You didn’t know how it happened. One minute he was sweet talking you and the next you were stumbling over your feet into his room. You wished you had taken a few more shots— the alcohol completely voided of your body.

His hand held yours as he tugged you in his room , connecting his lips onto yours quickly. You gasped as he kissed you , the fire that had been slowly burning inside of you for months finally catching— igniting almost instantly. Instinctively you reacted , wrapping an arm around his neck to pull him closer.

You huffed as you pulled away , allowing him to lightly push you down on the bed and crawl on top of you. Your legs parted and as he crawled on top of you , the chain he was wearing dangling in his face— it occured to you that all this time you had been lying to yourself. Rafe wasn’t a friend— he never could be , and as his eyes shimmered looking down at you , a part of you could feel that he felt the same.

He was panting. The need to have you as close as possible settling in. Your hands reached up to cup his face , fingers ghosting over his skin. “What would you say if I asked you if you still loved me?” Your words were barely above a whisper as you heart beat loudly in your chest. So loud it thumped in your ears.

Rafe’s eyes softened on you and your hands on his face had felt like a distant memory. Nostalgic and sweet. Leaning down , he nudged his nose against yours , mind hazy. “I’d say that I did. That I’ve loved you as a boy— and now as a man.”

The words he had spoke seemed to resonate deep in your chest. It was true that the last time you had saw him , he was still the boy you had grew up with. But things were different now and the time apart had changed more than just you. He wore it in his actions , in the smile lines that had reminded you of all the laughs you had shared together in the hopeful years. His build was stronger , the way he carried himself was , too. But all in all— he was still Rafe.

“And you?” Rafe couldn’t help but ask. How much he wanted to lean down and kiss you. To worship you the way he should’ve— to fuck you like he loved you.

He just needed to hear you say it.

Your bottom lip trapped itself between your teeth. The thoughts of your friends scolding you , the disappointment from your mom and the idea that this would bring nothing but bad news to you plagued your mind. Though deep down you knew that Rafe Cameron was the love of your life. The kind’ve love that could only ever come once. You met him as a girl. Spending your girlhood lusting after him. He was the first boy you ever kissed , the first boy that broke your heart. Your breathing quickened and nothing else mattered. Not now. Not anymore.

“I’ve always loved you.” You answered , brushing his forehead like you had done so many times before except his shaggy , blonde hair was ghostly now.

“I’ll love you forever and even after that.”

#rafe fic #outerbanks rafe #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe smut #rafe x reader #rafe cameron #rafe imagine #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe headcanons #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron smut #bad idea right #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x reader smut

[ellephlox]

Obstinacy

Summary: You get sick and refuse to let Matt help you because you don’t want him to get sick, too — the question is, how long can you keep him away?

Pairing: Matt x fem!reader

Warnings: Some gross pneumonia descriptions, light swearing, nothing else!

A/N: So I’ve been away for awhile, and I’m really sorry about that. I’ve been trying to write my own book and I finished the second draft, so taking the time for fan fiction has been on the back burner lately. But of course with the RETURN OF OUR BELOVED KING on She-Hulk, I had to take the time to write something because IM STILL FREAKING OUT GUYS MATT IS BACK AND HES SO AMAZING AND HOT AND ALLSKJF LSDKFJLSKDJFLSDK

You felt the chest pain on your way home from work — the kind that arrived out of nowhere, as though it dropped from the sky into your lungs, and seriously made you wonder how colds were able to work that quickly. 

Of course, maybe it wasn’t a cold. You kept your hopes up as you cooked dinner, testing your chest a few times with a few large intakes of breath, but each time was the same result: a small tickle in the back, like a little voice saying, Hey, I’m here, and you’re going to be miserable for the next couple of days! 

Which really stunk, if you were being honest. It was getting towards mid-October and you were hoping to carve pumpkins with Matt or do some other corny autumn activity that every other normal couple did in the city. Not that you two weren’t normal. But other couples didn’t really have to contend with the whole I’ll-see-you-later-honey-after-I-beat-up-some-bad-guys-tonight, and you figured it must make movie nights a lot more frequent for most people than it did for you and Matt. That was another thing on your list, too — watching a horror movie to get into the Halloween spirit. 

“I’m not into horror movies,” Matt had said when you’d pitched the idea to him. “Audio commentary kind of kills the whole scary aspect.”

“Then you’re watching the wrong movies. I don’t mean movies with gallons of blood and cheap jump scares. I mean psychological horrors, the kinds that make you stay awake at night because they’re that freaky. We’re doing it, Murdock, whether you want to or not.”

Whether you want to or not, however, didn’t include the extenuating circumstances of getting sick.

It took longer than usual to get up the stairs to your apartment. You felt so drained that you wouldn’t have minded showering and then crashing into bed, if you weren’t hungry. The wind rattled at your windows as you cooked a big pot of rice, enough to last the next few days. You’d bought fixings yesterday to make a homemade curry with it, but one look at your pantry and you scrapped those plans in exchange for half a jar of pesto with a dubious expiration date on it. Matt wasn’t supposed to be over until after seven in the evening, thanks to the unforgiving hours of lawyering, but you called him as you stirred the pesto in with the rice. 

“I was wondering when you’d call,” he said. His voice was lighthearted. 

“Hi,” you said, as casually as possible. “How was your day?”

“I officially reduced the pile of paperwork on my desk from ten inches high to eight inches high, so I’d call it a success. You at your place?”

“Yeah. Hey, I wanted to let you know that I think I’m coming down with something, so maybe you should stay at your own place tonight.” Before Matt could ask, you added, “I’m fine. Just one of the colds that’s going around. But I’d feel horrible if you got it.”

“What about the pumpkins?”

“Pumpkins can wait. I haven’t even bought them yet.”

“Oh.” He sounded disappointed, and your stomach flipped. What a way to boost my self-esteem that he actually likes me. “How about we just don’t share sodas, then?”

You frowned. “Last time this happened, I told you to stay away from me and then you just ended up kissing me. The next day, lo and behold, you started coughing. So, no. Not happening.”

“You kissed me, if I remember correctly.”

“Excuse me? What kind of a lawyer are you? That’s gaslighting, sir.”

He continued, ignoring you. “Maybe I’ll just hear some suspicious noises coming from your apartment tonight. And then I’ll have to investigate, because it’s my civic duty as the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. And when I see a beautiful girl, sitting on the couch and pathetically eating rice and pesto alone, I’ll just have to join her. Accidentally, of course.”

“What I’m interpreting from that is that you go cuddle up with any girl that you find eating alone in her apartment.”

“What I’m interpreting is that Matt says he’s doing all these dangerous things at night but really he’s just chilling out while enjoying the lavish praise of being a local superhero,” Foggy said, his voice distant in the background. 

You snorted. “Am I on speakerphone?”

“No,” Foggy answered, sounding far too cheerful for someone working far beyond sunset. “Matt just keeps his phone volume weirdly high for someone who supposedly has super-hearing.”

“I do have super-hearing, Foggy.”

“Then how are you not shattering your eardrums? Between your phone volume and crashing at girls’ apartments to eat rice and pesto, I’m really doubting this whole Daredevil façade,” Foggy said. 

“Anyway,” Matt cut in, “I’ll pop in tonight, just to bring over some food and meds. Do you want anything specific?”

“Matt, really. I don’t want you catching this. And it’s late, you should get home and actually get some sleep for once. I’m fine, it just feels like a cold.” You would have elaborated, but your chest decided to seize at that moment, and you had to trail off quickly before it became apparent in your voice. 

He sort of listened to you that night. He had swung by (through the window? Or with the spare key you’d given him? There was no way to know) and dropped off food, but it was while you were asleep, and it looked as though he’d only gone into the kitchen then left. 

You’d only found the food when you wandered in blearily at three in the morning, sweating and freezing at the same time. There was no point for the thermometer; a fever was obvious and you didn’t particularly care what the number was. The cough was worse, though. It made it hard to fall back asleep — every few seconds you’d feel as though your lungs were spasming, and the back of your throat felt as though it had been bitten by fire ants. 

Sirens rang in the distance. You hoped it wasn’t for something Matt was involved in; not because you didn’t trust him to handle it, but because it was three in the morning and you’d kick his ass if he wasn’t sleeping at this point. 

Then the headache hit you. Maybe you wouldn’t be kicking his ass anytime soon. 

The pressure was enough to make you stumble into the counter as you rummaged for a glass of water. Everything about your arms felt off, as though your muscles had been crushed into powder, and you misjudged your grasp on the glass. It fell, crashing to the floor and skating outwards like a nebula of knives. Automatically you reached for the paper towels, and in your haze you stepped forward. 

Barefooted. 

Glass crunched under your foot and you swore, not at the pain but at your own stupidity. It took another half an hour to bandage up the bottom of your foot and at that point you were too exhausted to finish cleaning up the glass. 

When you woke up next, sun was filtering through your curtains and your mouth was as dry as though you’d swallowed ten cotton swabs. Dazed, you picked up your phone, and squinted at the notifications; one missed call from Matt and a followup text. Quickly you sent him an I’m okay message and then fell back onto your pillow. 

The fever felt worse. Goosebumps ran up and down your legs, but you were simultaneously sweaty under your sheets, so you threw them off to go shower. Only then did you remember the glass you’d stepped on because your foot protested angrily as soon as you placed it onto the carpet. 

Hopping was the only option remaining, and that expended just about every ounce of energy you’d garnered while sleeping, so that you just about collapsed against the bathroom wall, wheezing, by the time you’d made it. And of course that was when your phone rang, so you hopped back to your room, and barely made it in time before it went to voicemail. 

“Hello?” you croaked. 

“That’s all I need to hear. I’m coming over.”

“I... what?”

“Yeah. You sound terrible, Y/N.” Matt’s voice was overly concerned, and you didn’t like it at all; you could practically feel the pity coming off of him. At least, it felt like pity. And that wasn’t what you wanted. 

“Matt, not only will I personally make you rue the day that you step foot in here while I’m sick, but—” You broke off, coughing, and wincing at the same time because you could imagine Matt’s expression on the other end.

“I don’t like talking to you over the phone,” he said in a low voice. “I hate not hearing your heartbeat, hearing your lungs, feeling your temperature. You’re being overruled. I’m coming.”

“Don’t you have to be at the court today?”

“Not until ten.”

Defeated, you flung the phone on the other side of the room. That conversation sucked out everything you had, and you gave up on the idea of taking a shower. The bed looked much more comfortable. It didn’t help that your breaths were getting alarmingly short, and it was difficult to draw in anything more than a quick inhale. Your eyes were closed for about five seconds before they popped back open. 

Matt was coming. Damn it, damn it, damn it. You went to the windows and locked them all, then crossed to the front door. He had a spare key, but you also had a bolt, and you slid it across, feeling somewhat proud of yourself for having made the trek to the entryway. The bar is very, very low at this point. 

You’d run a marathon right now before letting Matt get anywhere near you. That resolve was the only thing penetrating the fog around your head, and you double-checked the windows again. It wasn’t as though he’d be leaping and climbing up to them, anyway; he was coming from the office, and would therefore be in his lawyer suit. With the number of people down on the streets and the broad daylight, Matt would be hard-pressed to make it up to your fire escape without the newspaper headline being BLIND ACROBAT BREAKING AND ENTERING IN HELL’S KITCHEN the next day. 

Sure enough, ten minutes later Matt was outside your door, and his sharp rap on the door did nothing to make you move. You sat at the counter, sipping on some water, and shook your head. “Nope. Not happening.”

“Y/N, I can hear the crackling in your lungs,” he said, his patience more intact than you would have expected. He thinks he’s going to win.

“My lungs aren’t crackling. They’re just... not feeling so hot.” Now overly-conscious of your breathing, you tried to make your breaths smoother and less obviously sick. 

There was a pause on the other side of the door. “You’ve got too fast of a heartbeat. Unlock the bolt or I’ll kick the door down.”

“Yeah, my heart’s racing, because there’s a man threatening to kick my door down,” you said, and feeling inspired, you clicked the on button of the remote next to you. The television flashed to life, showing the weather report, and you turned the volume up. Take that, Matt. “See? No more lung crackling or racing heartbeats.”

The only issue was that now you could hardly hear him. You barely made out his next sentence, it was so faint on the other side of the door. “I can still hear both, you know,” he said, muffled. “You know how many televisions there are in the average block of apartments that I have to filter out every single night?”

“Shit.” You shut the television off. “Listen away, then. It’s not going to change anything because I’m not letting you in.” 

“I wasn’t kidding about kicking the door down.”

"And I’m not kidding about not letting you in. Plus, you’d have some tough questions to answer when my neighbors report you for kicking down my door, Devil Man.”

“Why won’t you accept help when you need it? You really need a doctor.”

“Hypocrite,” you said under your breath, relishing the fact that he could hear you.

“I can hear you.” Just as you’d expected. “And what I do is irrelevant to the fact that you’re currently sitting in your apartment with what’s probably pneumonia.”

“Oh, it’s not pneumonia,” you said dismissively, though you felt awful enough that he was probably right. At least, your lungs seemed to concur with that diagnosis, and as if to verbally agree with him you coughed, wheezing and choking for air.  

“If I didn’t have to be at the court in half an hour, I’d go home and get into the suit just to have an excuse to come through your window right now.” Matt was pissed, that was for sure. There was a dangerous undertone to his voice, softened only by that ever-present concern in what he was saying. 

“I know, Matt.” You rolled your eyes. “It’s a lost cause, alright? Tomorrow I’ll be feeling a lot better and then maybe — maybe — I’ll let you come in. And that’s if we keep all the windows open for fresh air and—”

“Why do I smell your blood?”

You glanced down at your foot. Traitor. It had stopped bleeding ages ago, but you should’ve changed the bandage again one more time before Matt showed up. “I’m... doing acupuncture. On myself.”

“Y/N.”

“Fine. I made a blood oath and pricked my thumb to assure myself that I will never, ever let you catch a sickness from me.”

“In ten seconds this door is coming down unless you tell me. And if you could hear my heartbeat, you’d know I’m not lying.”

“Fine! I just stepped on some glass, okay? But my foot is fine, it’s seen worse days. I mean, you should’ve seen that time that I got a pedicure and the lady told me my heels were the most cracked she’d seen in a long time.” You were rambling, and that wasn’t a good idea, because it made you lose your breath and then you were gasping for air. 

After another five minutes of arguing that ended only when you swore to call the doctor if you got any worse, he left, grumbling that Foggy would kill both of you if he was late for court, and that was the only reason he was giving up — “temporarily”. 

Only when it was too late did you realize that was a mistake, and that you should have let him help.  

It was past two in the afternoon when you woke up from a nap, and every muscle in your body felt as though it were frozen. You were trembling slightly from the cold, but couldn’t muster the energy to even sit up and grab the blanket at the foot of your bed. It was difficult to swallow, and you clutched at your throat, certain that someone must be standing over you and clasping their hands around your neck, but there was no one there. 

“Matt,” you whispered, expecting him to be there, or to hear you, but there was no one. Taking slow breaths, you tried to calm down on your own. One, two, three. One, two, three. All you could manage were short, raspy breaths that hardly got enough air, and your head pounded. Blindly you reached out for your glass of water, and nearly dropped it again, your hands were shaking so much. The feeling of your lips against the rim was like pressing a dried sponge to the edge of a bowl and the water tasted sour in your mouth. 

And then you tried swallowing. It was as though someone had blocked up your throat, because you couldn’t swallow, and you gasped, heart racing as panic flooded through you; for a moment you couldn’t breathe and then you finally coughed up the water, chest heaving from the sharpness of each cough. You grabbed a tissue, hacking into it for at least another thirty seconds, and finally a glob of mucus came up and your airway cleared up just enough that you could breathe a bit more. 

You almost tossed the tissue to the floor without looking at it, but a flash of red caught your eye. 

Blood. In the mucus. 

That was the tipping point for you. Didn’t people die shortly after coughing up blood in the movies? That was how it went. A character coughs, looks into their hand, and then resignedly tucks it away without the other characters seeing. It was like the knoll of death, ringing in your ears. 

You hardly knew what you were doing as you dialed Matt’s number, not even thinking about what you were tapping into your phone but allowing muscle memory to guide you. 

“Hello?” He picked up almost immediately. 

“Matt—” You started to speak his name, but halted; it was too painful. Dropping your voice to a whisper, you started over. “Matt, I think I need you here.”

“What? What is it?” 

“I’m—” You glanced down at the tissue. Literally dying here? That was a surefire way to make Matt have a heart attack. “I’m not doing so well. I might take you up on your offer to help.”

He didn’t hesitate. “I’ll be over in five minutes. Did you call the doctor already?”

“No.” The thought of calling the doctor was exhausting on its own. 

Matt seemed to notice that. “I’ll call,” he assured you. “Can you breathe alright?”

“Not really.” Tears were spiking in your eyes and you brushed them away. “I just coughed and... there was some blood in it.” You wheezed for breath, the drawing in of air rattling everything inside of you and getting caught at the top of your throat.

“I’m taking you to a hospital.”

“But—”

“No, sweetheart. You need a real doctor. I’ll be over in a minute.”

Somehow you must have fallen asleep again, because Matt was lifting you from the bed and you wrapped your arms around him. “Can’t breathe,” you whispered, gasping for breath. 

“I know. I can hear your lungs,” Matt said, voice strained. “I’ve got a cab waiting on the street. Can you walk or do you need me to carry you?”

“I... I can walk.” You slung an arm around him and made your way slowly out of the room, limping with every step on your bandaged foot. Matt, to his credit, allowed you to do what you could. His tie was loosened and his suit jacket was gone, but he still wore a button-down, tucked into his pants. 

“Bet you won your case, then,” you whispered, hardly even aware of what was coming out of your mouth. “No one can... say no to this.”

“This?”

“Hm. This.” You meant to nod up and down at Matt, but it came across as more of a head shake. “You.”

And then your assertion that you could walk proved difficult to fulfill, so you redirected your efforts to not face-planting in your living room, despite the strong, steady hands Matt kept on you the entire time. Once you reached your stairs he took over for the most part; your feet were hardly touching the ground with the amount of support he was giving. 

That was where your memory cut out. You must have passed out, because the next time you opened your eyes, it was in the hospital bed, and Matt was reading next to you, his long gaze fixed on the wall in front of him as his fingers danced over the text. 

“Hi,” you whispered lamely. Everything about you was groggy and it was hard enough just to focus on him. 

Him. Only he could look handsome in a hospital. At some point he’d exchanged the suit for a tee shirt and sweats, and his hair stuck out at every angle possible. You wondered vaguely if he’d come from Fogwell’s. 

He set the book down, relief evident on his face. “Hey, sweetie. How are you doing?”

You ignored his question. “How do you always manage to look good?”

He nudged you. “I should be the one asking you that.”

“That’s... the biggest lie I’ve ever heard. Even if you weren’t blind, it’d be a lie.” You closed your eyes, then opened them again. The ceiling was too white. “What happened?”

"Aspiration pneumonia.”

“Hm?”

“You have aspiration pneumonia,” he said. “Which just happens to be a type of pneumonia that’s not contagious.”

You meditated on this. “So?”

“So you could’ve let me into your apartment, that whole time,” he said, looking distinctly indignant, and it was enough to make you laugh. The laugh was short-lived, because it quickly transformed into a wracking cough that made your entire chest throb, but Matt was on his feet in an instant, holding your hand.

Only when the coughing stopped did you remember the bolt on your door. “Matt?”

“Yeah?”

“How’d you get in?”

“Broke down the door, like I promised.”

“Are... are you serious? What about the neighbors?”

He laughed. “You know, breaking down a door isn’t incriminating evidence that I’m Daredevil. I told them you were having an emergency, and when they saw you, they believed me.”

“They saw me?” You didn’t remember an audience when Matt was helping you out of the apartment.

“Well, you were taking your sweet time on the stairs, and coughing loudly enough for anyone in a mile radius to hear you, so yeah, they wanted to see what was happening.”

You buried your face in your hands. “That’s just great. And now, what, is my apartment wide open for anyone to go in?”

“No, I called in a favor with Foggy, and he’s hanging out there until someone can come in and fix it.”

“Even better. Now I’m indebted to Foggy.”

Matt smiled coyly. “Oh, and I should mention—”

“Oh, no. What?”

“—that there’s something else you’ll love about all of this.”

“Stop smiling like that. Why are you smiling like that?”

“Aspiration pneumonia is commonly associated with the institutionalized elderly. In other words, it’s a nursing home problem.”

“A nursing home problem?”

“A nursing home problem,” he confirmed. “I was thinking that maybe for your next birthday I could get you fitted for dentures.”

“Hilarious. Really, so funny. You really should have been a comedian. I swear to you that the next time you get sick, I’m going to make fun of you and you’ll never hear the end of it. Got it?”

He grinned and squeezed your hand. “Murdocks don’t get sick.”

“That is the second biggest lie I’ve ever heard. I seem to recall that time you projectile-vomited off of the Ferris wheel.”

“Because I was motion-sick, not sick-sick.”

Your eyelids were already getting heavy just from the five-minute conversation. You beckoned him closer and leaned onto his shoulder, pressing yourself into his warmth. He smelled like fresh deodorant and coffee. “Pumpkin carving as soon as I can leave?”

“Definitely,” he said, placing your fingers onto the pulse that drummed under his wrist. “And this time, I’m not lying.”

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #Daredevil #daredevil x reader #marvel #MCU #hurt/comfort #reader #reader insert

[katareyoudrilling]

The Sweepstakes: Frankie Morales Epilogue (Porn Star AU)

Series: The Sweepstakes

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Porn star Female reader

Summary: You texted Frankie after your evening together, but what happened next?

Word count: ~600

Rating: Explicit (18+ only. NO MINORS)

Content Warnings: descriptions of sex acts

A/N: This follows the events of The Sweepstakes: Frankie Morales so be sure to read that first!  I did the most minimal of research for this, so please forgive any inaccuracies.  I have been overwhelmed (in the best way) by the response to Sweepstakes Frankie.  I hope what I’ve imagine here does him justice.  Enjoy!

Reblogs and comments greatly appreciated!

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Taglist – link in my bio or ask me to add you!

“Frankie! Come see this!” you exclaim from the bedroom.

“What is it?” Frankie comes in, running a towel through his shower-damp hair, wearing just his worn blue jeans.  You take in the view of his soft tummy and bare feet, momentarily distracted from the news you called him in to share.

You just had him in your bed less than an hour ago, but you’d gladly have him back again.  You shake your head to clear the distracting thoughts.

“Right. I was just uploading today’s video when I saw that we hit 1,000 subscribers!”

“What? Really? That sounds like a lot.”  He sits down next to you on the bed, his weight causing the mattress to dip and bumping your knee against his side.  His fresh, clean scent wafts over you and you have to resist the urge to snuggle into his warm skin.

“It is a lot,” you beam at him, and he returns your smile with a lopsided grin of his own. “We’ll be making real money soon.”

It had been after another fun and satisfying fuck with your favorite civilian that you had pitched Frankie the idea of starting an OnlyFans with you.

The way you saw it, there was an untapped market for soft, brown-eyed men, who gave amazing head.  Your rapidly rising subscriber numbers are proving your hunch to be correct.

Frankie had thought it over, but he said it was ultimately a pretty easy decision.  Why not try to earn a little extra money doing something he loved?

You called your channel “The Pussy Eating King”

Your signature videos were first person POVs of him eating you out.  Sometimes he looked directly down the camera with those soulful eyes.  Others, he closed them to get completely lost in the pleasure of your cunt.  It was devastating… in the best way.  And the viewership numbers agreed.

Second to those, were the videos you filmed from between Frankie’s legs, looking up at him while you stroked his gorgeous cock until he came.  His disheveled curls and pink cheeks are the stuff dreams are made of.

Dirty dreams.

Dreams you wake up needy and desperate from.

It would be selfish to keep that view just for yourself.

“I think we should celebrate,” Frankie muses, pulling on his t-shirt and running his fingers through his messy curls.  “Can I take you on a date?”

“A date?” Your pulse pounds in your ears.  Sure, you have sex with Frankie on a regular basis.  You have sex with a lot of people.  Sure, you often wind up spending the day in bed with him just talking, but being with him in public? With clothes on?

Frankie senses your hesitation.  “It doesn’t have to change anything.  I just really like you and want to spend time with you.”

“I… ok,” you hear yourself answer.

“Great, I’ll pick you up at 8.”  Frankie kisses the top of your head and makes his way out of your apartment, picking up his hat as he goes.  Before he closes the door, he turns and winks.

- - - - - - - - - 

Later that night, Frankie takes your hand as you walk down the sidewalk.  He twines his fingers with yours in a way that feels more intimate than anything you’ve done in the bedroom.

He said nothing would change, but things always change.

For the first time in a long time, you wonder if maybe that isn’t a bad thing.

- - - - - - - - - -

A/N: If these types of videos exist, please let me know…

Series Masterlist

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#the sweepstakes #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal

[wonijinjin]

THE WEEKND SERIES: CALL OUT MY NAME - CHOI SEUNGCHEOL

author’s note: the first work of the series! i am all for strangers to more tropes so i hope you guys will have fun reading it! take care<3

synopsis: will shared fate with a stranger turn into something more, something you had never expected?

word count: 0.6k | genre: fluff, hurt/comfort, dark themes (apocalypse) | pairing: cheol x gn! reader | warnings: mentions of injury, doctors, apocalypse, death

the masterpost to this series can be found here.

the wind was blowing coldly as you reached the deserted capital, body tired from dragging it all day, not finding anyone near who could help you out. in the distance you could spot a silhouette, a human’s to be exact. “wait!” you shouted from the top of your lungs, taking all of your energy and putting it into a final call before you saw the figure turning around, running in your direction. the pain in your injured leg became unbearable and forced your knees to buckle; luckily the stranger who had arrived by your side just at that moment had caught you, laying you down on the muddy ground. “hi.” you smiled at him while his eyes widened in surprise seeing another human alive. there were not many people who survived the earthquakes or the tsunamis after the collision of the meteor. “nice to meet you.” he smiled back at you, inspecting the wound on your foot. “i guess you got this while trying to escape from the storm.” you wheezed. “good guess, sherlock.” his movements halted and he got a roll of surgical tape and bandaids out from his pocket. “so, do you want me to fix you up? you are not doing so well as i can see.” you nodded immediately, thanking him several times. “i have been searching for signs of life for days, but have seen noone so far.” he shook his head in agreement. “because there is almost no human here as of today. i’m surprised to see you here, never thought i would cross paths with someone here. everyone i know is at the same place, the mall. they gathered there, but they are starting to go crazy so i left.” he explained what he knew about the situation happening. your lack of response and the way you stared into nothing alarmed him and he pulled your body towards his so he could see your eyes. “you with me?” he swung his hand in front of your face. you nodded slowly to ensure that you heard and understood him. “good.” he thought for a moment. “must be shock which got you so quiet all of a sudden.” he finished wrapping up your leg, patting it for good measure. “can you stand?” he questioned with a warm look, one which you missed so much, after so long of not being in contact with others. “hello? i asked if you can stand up and walk.” he was crouching next to you, grabbing your chin to check your eyes again. you assumed that he must’ve been a doctor since he was looking for signs of head injury for sure, you knew this much of first aid. you leaned in without thinking, kissing him quickly. this caught him off guard, but it was so quick and sudden that it was over before he could register what was happening. “sorry, i just needed to check if you were real. i’ve been alone for a while, i wasn’t sure if it was just in my head or not.” he had a weird expression but only for a moment, then caught your wrist and lifted your finger to his face, poking it. “you could’ve just done this, you know.” he laughed sweetly, another thing you had been missing from your life. “you are right…” you whispered shyly, a bit embarrassed. “anyways, i see that you are quite lonely. you can accompany me for the time being if you want to. at least i can make sure your leg actually gets better.” you grinned tiredly. “if i’m gonna be your companion i gotta know your name at least though.” he extended his arm towards you. “just call me seungcheol.”

#wonijinjin #caratsland #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt imagines #seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen seungcheol #fluff #svt scoups #seventeen scoups #scoups #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol scenarios #seungcheol fanfic #seungcheol #seungcheol x you #svt choi seungcheol #choi seungcheol #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol x y/n #svt drabbles #seventeen drabbles #seventeen fanfic #Spotify

[shadowbriar]

George Weasley - Loved and Lost You

Pairing : (F/M) || George Weasley x Gryffindor!Reader Word Count : 4.8k  Warning : Mention of food. One foul language. Synopsis : Fake dating gone wrong when she realises that her silly idea to help the Hufflepuff boy costs her her bestfriend. Notes : I had no idea how to end this, definitely not my best ending to date but I hope you can still enjoy it. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

“What would I do without you, truly?”

She shrugs, passing the redhead his quidditch robe, “I don’t know, actually. Probably died a long time ago.”

The boy grins, receiving the said item thankfully.

The sun was beaming, steady wind blowing that lovely morning as the Gryffindors began to crowd the quidditch field. It was another typical practice but for as long as she could remember, she has always been a constant audience of the activity. She wasn’t sure if it was purely caused by her admiration of the said sport or was there any other hidden meaning she tries so hard to bury inside her chest, but if Voldemort himself is not outside of her doorstep and threatening her with the cruciatus curse, best believe she would come and cheer for her favourite Wealeys.

Yes, Weasleys.

Though it was obvious for everyone else that she has always been more fond of one of the twins, she would always argue that they both are her best friends and that she loves them equally. Sure she has been more open with one of them, spent more time on his bed and shared more of her heartfelt stories with him, but that doesn’t mean that she has any special feelings for him. They simply connect better, like the way honey fits best with tea instead of sugar.

“Say, do you have any plans after this?” He asked, putting on his robe in the process “I was wondering if you’d like to do that Charms essay together?”

“By together you mean by copying mine?”

He grins sheepishly, “You know me best.”

“Yes, I’ve heard that before.” She says as she rolls her eyes “Meet you here after?”

“Sound.”

He ruffled her hair, the very dear habit he does whenever they’re going to part ways, before he jogs lightly to the field.

She finds herself walking to the bleacher, finding a spot next to Hermione who was trying to bite down her smile, “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Oh, don’t ‘nothing’ me, Hermione. I know something’s running wild in your precious witty brain.”

“It’s just that,” The younger Gryffindor vents, turning to her “You and George look so cute together. Whatever is stopping you two from dating? Everyone could see the heart eyes you’ve been exchanging with each other.”

She rolls her eyes, “There’s no heart eyes between us. Don’t make up words, Hermione, you know how rumours go wild in this school.”

“Oh, but there totally is!” She argues, feeling rather curbed over her emotions “George has never looked at anyone the way he looks at you and vice versa. You both are neck deep in love with each other yet refuse to acknowledge it. Merlin, you both are denying it for no reason, really!”

She turns her head to watch the game, not entertaining the younger girl any longer.

Hermione wasn’t the first to question their friendship. In fact she’s one of the least vocal about it, compared to Ginny and Harry would blurt out the questions right in front of the younger twin, making the atmosphere to be awkward for the next 2 minutes to come. It would be a lie if she never pondered about the underlying truth beneath the curious accusations their friends made, but being best friends with the Twins was all she’s known for since she first stepped in Hogwarts. She’s been the honorary third twin, so Fred called, and their close relationship has always been something of her identity. There really isn’t anything more than that.

They were all just making things up, she was sure. There’s no heart eyes, no soft gazes and George definitely doesn’t like her that way. If he does, she would’ve known about it because who else could read him like an open book? Right?

—-

Her attempt on keeping her giggles in was evidently failing as George continued to nudge her under the table. Troubles in Potion is always the worst and she wouldn’t want to get any of them detention from Snivellus, but what exactly can you expect from sitting next to one of the Twins? It would be a cold day in hell if they don’t try to tickle or at the very least make silly comments about the Professor throughout the lesson.

And as if on cue, George was pulled up from his seat abruptly, arm being yanked away by the foul Professor, “Switch your seat with Diggory. Now.”

The joy on both their faces turn into horror in the blink of an eye. George nods silently, packing his belongings. She shot an apologetic smile at him, watching him as he shuffled away from their table. Diggory, who looks surprised that his name was being called, is now walking to their table, his unfinished essays disorganised in his hands.

“Hi.”

She smiles, nodding, “Hello, Diggory.”

She glances at George, making sure that the boy wasn’t much affected by Snape’s wrest, though she knew that it would require much more than the Professor’s assault to frighten the boy. Hell, she wasn’t even sure there would ever be anything George Weasley is afraid of. That boy has always been confident and undaunted no matter how severe the circumstances he was in. Yet she still couldn’t stop herself from checking in on him. It has become an unconscious habit she picked up over the years.

George wiggles his eyebrows at her, showing his unphased state as he takes a seat. She rolled her eyes. Of course he’s still being his jesterself.

She turns her head back to her paper, only to notice Diggory’s eyes glued to a few tables in front of them. She follows his direction, raising her brows as she realises that he was watching Patricia Stimpson intently. She looks back at Diggory who still hasn’t blinked from the last she saw him.

“Is there something on Stimpson’s face that I didn’t notice?” She asks aloud, making the boy snap out of his thought “Is it only noticeable from your side of the table?”

“No, there’s nothing on her face.” He answers, cheeks turning rosy “I was just spacing out.”

She squints her eyes, noting the nervous shift of his gesture, “Are my eyes deceiving me or are you blushing right now, Diggory.”

“Shut up.”

“Oh, Merlin!” She exclaims quietly, grinning at the secret she’s just learned “You fancy Stimpson, don’t you!”

“I said, shut up.”

She nudges the boy, teasing the poor Hufflepuff who’s now trying to bury his head under his arm, hiding his face that is as red as a tomato. In no time the two strangers become close. Funny how one fortuitous action could bring the two close in no time. It was as if they’ve been friends for years.

And the sight wasn’t left unnoticed by a pair of jealous eyes.

George chews on his lower lip with anxiety. He’s never seen her grow close with someone as fast as this, not even with Lee who has been their fourth wheel for years. What is it about Diggory that seems to be such a magnet for girls? Was it his pretty face? His humour perhaps? Surely he couldn’t have better jokes than the prankster of the castle.

The redhead’s bubble of thought burst as a crumpled paper hit his head. He turned to the direction where it came, seeing his twin who’s gesturing him to open it. With a huff, he opens the parchment paper and his frown grows even more sour.

‘Losers Weepers.’

—-

She throws her head to the back as she laughs her heart out, giving George light punches to the arms. The Gryffindor table was full of familiar faces. It has been a while since the whole squad was present. With the different year they’re in, different classes they’re taking, and evidently different teenage troubles they’re facing, spending breakfast together seems like an impossible task to do. Now that everyone’s present, she couldn’t find a reason to leave the table early.

But one.

“Hey, you.” A voice calls, greeting her with a smile as she turns to face him “Ready to go?”

“Of course!”

George’s brows were furrowed, disapproving her who’s now standing from her seat, “Where are you going?”

“Oh, Cedric and I are planning to do our Potion essays early.” She explains hastily “Also, George, you wouldn’t mind switching partners with him, would you? I kinda need his help with the upcoming assignments.”

The boy blinks, completely taken aback at the wave of information and requests she’s throwing at him.

“Brilliant!” She exclaims, taking his silence as approval “Let’s go, Ced.”

The whole table was left appalled, watching as she walked away with the Hufflepuff boy. Ginny and Hermione were audibly gasping when she linked her arms with him and he ruffles her hair, skipping out of the Great Hall happily. The sight was so peculiar they would’ve preferred seeing Dumbledore wearing a bikini than to witness the situation for the second time. The things she was doing, linking arms, laughing, and getting all jumpy was a sight they would see with George, not Cedric.

Since when were the two close?

“What’s just happened?” Harry broke the silence, blinking his eyes “What’s she doing with Cedric Diggory?”

“Didn’t you hear? They’re going to do their Potions essay.” Fred comments mockingly, knowing that his twin isn’t capable of making up for an answer “I didn’t even know we have Potions essay.”

The younger twin stabs on his innocent sausage as if trying to butcher it to its death. His eyes were vacant, feeling a silly pool of knots forming inside his stomach. To know that she prefers to do Potions essay than to spend time with her literal family at Hogwarts shows exactly where Cedric is positioned in her priority list.

Disappointed would be the most understated word he’s feeling at the moment. She has never been that close to anyone but him. He had always been the one she would drop the world for yet now he could sense that the seat was filled with others. He knew that something was going on. There’s no chance in the seven hells that they simply want to do their Potions essay early. Since when does she care about Snivellus’ classes anyway? Yet the realisation only further stomps him, making him drown deeper into the pits of anguish.

“I’m sure they’re just friends, like we all are.” Hermione comments, noticing the dejected look on George’s face “There’s nothing really to be worried about, George.”

He chuckles bitterly, not looking up to see the girl, “Why would I be worried?”

The table went quiet. They all could see the sorrow bleeding out of his skin. It was common knowledge to the pack that he’s madly in love with her. In contrast to her blatant denial whenever their relationship was being questioned, George chose the more vague path of simply smiling and clinging his arms around her shoulders, showing a sign of approval but not really. As if he was waiting for her to stop denying it so he could finally shed the mask he’s been wearing all these years.

Yet it seems like he wouldn’t ever get the chance to take it off now.

“George-”

“I’ll see you guys at the field.”

The boy shoots a weak smile to the group, standing up as he picks up his satchel and exits the Great Hall. The group stares at each other, feeling the mutual sorry for the heartbroken boy. Everyone could see the quidditch robe left unconsciously on the table and yet, for the very first time, she wouldn’t be the one giving it to him later.

—-

“There’s Stimpson.” She whispered to Cedric before faking a laugh, glancing at the girl who’s just entered the Great Hall “Quick, put your hand around my waist.”

“Is that really necessary?” He comments but still does the gesture “Could she even see my hand under these giant tables?”

“Stop, Ced, you’re hurting my stomach!”

The boy chuckles, watching her fake laughter with glee, “You’re entirely something else, you know?”

She grins as she takes a bite of her toast.

The plan was in motion. The two of them have done more public display of their intimacy, indicating that a romantic affair is happening between the two without telling anyone the truth behind such actions. Cedric found the idea to be ridiculous initially, but now seeing Stimpson to be taking silent glances and frowning lightly at the sight of them together, he came to the realisation that not only is she a great actress, she’s one hell of a genius too.

Yet he couldn’t help but to notice that the green emotions were radiated not only from Stimpson but from one of the Weasley twins too. If anything, the younger twin seems to be in a different level of jealousy that everytime he looks in his direction, he would find the Gryffindor’s eyes to be throwing him daggers.

“You know,” Cedric starts, clearing his throat “As much as I’m grateful for you for this stunt, are you sure it is fine for you to be fake dating me?”

“Yeah, of course. Why do you ask?”

“Because something tells me that one of the Weasley twins is despising it.”

She frowns, turning to see the Gryffindor table where the twins usually sit. Her eyes met George’s for a brief second before he looked away, joining the conversation Lee and Fred was having. She notices from afar the light hue of grey underneath his eyes and how his smile doesn’t seem to reach his eyes, no wrinkles around it as he laughs.

Guilt starts to creep inside her. When was the last time she truly looked at him? He looks awful, despite still looking as charming as ever. She could tell that something was bothering him and she feels terrible for not knowing what caused it. She used to know everything about him like the back of her hand. How long has she been gone, really?

“Are you sure nothing’s going on between you two?” Cedric asks, breaking her train of thought “I really don’t want to be the cause of your ruined relationship.”

“What, no. Nothing’s going on between us. We’re just friends.”

“Doesn’t seem like it.” He argues with a shrug “I mean I’ve seen you two around. Even a blind man could tell that something’s going on between you two. Do you not reciprocate his feelings, is that it?”

“What feelings?”

Cedric stares at her with disbelief, a teasing smile tugged on his lips, “You’re joking.”

“Do I look like I'm joking?”

“He fancies you!” He exclaims with a nudge “Come on, surely you’re not that daft to see it.”

“George doesn’t fancy me.” She comments, looking away from the Hufflepuff boy to hide her blush “Why does everyone keep telling me that.”

“Maybe because that’s the truth.”

She glares at him before looking back down to her breakfast.

Her thoughts were running wild. Being told that George was in love with her by their group of friends has always been something of an ordinary. She never thought much of it as she figured it was just one of those friendly teasing you make within your group of friends. But now hearing it from Cedric who was the literal definition of an outsider makes her ponder if such words ever actually hold some meaning. Is it really that obvious for others that he hoards feelings for her?

“Look, all I’m saying is this fake dating goes both ways.” Cedric continues “On my end I get to make Stimpson jealous and it seems like it’s working so far. On yours, I think that it’s making one of the twins jealous. What I’m questioning is, are you up for such a consequence? Are you ready if he somehow changes his demeanour around you because of our fake relationship?”

She frowns, “George wouldn’t change just because we’re dating, fake or not.”

“Are you sure? Because it looks like he’s ready to hex me to death.”

“Positive.” She rolls her eyes at him “In fact, I’ll come over to their table now and show you that his actions would remain the same.”

“Bet you 10 galleons he wouldn’t.”

She shows a disapproving expression before standing from her seat, planting a small kiss to Cedric’s cheek before walking away from the Hufflepuff table. For some reason she could feel her heart beating faster, unsure if she’s more afraid to prove her words wrong or true. Neither of the outcomes seem to be pleasing for her. If George really has feelings for her then she wouldn’t know how she could live her life knowing that she’s hurt him with the fake dating. Yet if he doesn’t, why does she feel like she would crash and fall from the bitter truth?

“Morning, Gentlemen.” She greets the table “Saved a seat for me?”

“Aren’t you already secured one with the Hufflepuffs?”

Her smile dilutes, George’s cold tone poisoning her, “I’m still a Gryffindor, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, well maybe there’s another spot open down the right.” George continues, still not looking up to her “You can join Ron and his group of friends.”

“There’s a spot right next to you, George.”

The boy picks up his satchel, placing it in the mentioned space, “Full. Sorry.”

She blinks at his callous gesture. It’s hard to believe that such words came out of his lips, the very one person who has always showered her with affection and warmth. She could see the same appalled expression shown on Fred and Lee’s faces, who didn’t expect George to be this bitter at her. Sure they know that he’s been struggling with the new sight of the couple, but never in a million years have they expected to see George being this hard to her.

“I see.” She replies, forcing a smile now “Well, I’ll see you guys at the field then.”

“Don’t even bother coming if you’re going to be with the enemy.”

“What’s got your wand in a knot, George?!” She bursts “Why are you suddenly so cruel to me?”

“Me? Cruel?” The boy questions, this time looking up to see her with angered eyes “I’m not the one tossing their friends away for some pretty boy she’s only befriended with for weeks!”

“Toss away? I didn’t come to one of your quidditch practices and you think that I’m tossing you away?” She questions, chuckling bitterly “I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware that being friends with you meant that I couldn’t date someone I like.”

George smirks, “At least you got that part right.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You really think that Diggory likes you?” He asks, this time standing up to tower her “You really think that someone like him would ever like someone as bland like you? You’re dense if you think that he ever likes you back.”

She let out a shuddering breath, tears starting to prick on her eyes from his harsh words. George seems to realise the weight of his words too as he blinks, facial features turning softer yet still showing the much bottled anger he’s erupting. He opens his mouth before closing it again, unable to make up words to follow his last.

“Fuck off, George.” She says with a cold tone, glaring at the boy.

Fighting her tears, she walks back to the Hufflepuff table with a broken heart. The possibility that George likes her has certainly been crossed out. The words he uttered are not the ones you said to someone you like, let alone someone you love. His words were only the reflection of his jealousy and bitterness that she’s now found someone who could appreciate her as much as he does. Well, did, as she swore not to ever befriend the red head again.

She takes the seat next to Cedric, sniffling slightly, “Kiss me.”

“What?” He questions, looking worried at her teary eyes “What happened? Are you alright?”

“Just kiss me, Ced.”

And so the boy leans in, kissing her gently on the lips. For the first time the couple finally shows intimate gestures, something more than holding hands or hugs, something that further proves that the two are indeed in a romantic relationship. The stunt was witnessed by the eyes of the Great Hall. Some were gasping in awe, some raised their brows in confusion, and two were staring at the couple with a sinking heart. One having a worse anguish than the other.

—-

She chews on her lower lip, trying to focus on the words Cedric was telling but his first sentence rang in her head like a broken record. Stimpson has finally asked him for a study date, meaning that she’s finally taken interest in him. The objective of the fake dating is achieved, there really isn’t any reason left for them to keep the act.

She should be happy that Cedric could finally get the girl he’s always been pining for, yet a bigger part of her wished that Stimpson would approach Cedric a bit later. Perhaps a few weeks from now when things between her and George were already settled. When he’s finally come to her and apologise for the hurtful words he spat on her that day. She knew that there was no way that Cedric would ever like her, it’s not like she cared about it anyway, but did he really think that she was bland? That she wasn’t worth Cedric or any guy’s time? Is she really that unattractive?

“Hey, you okay?” Cedric asks, looking worried at her now “You seem off today.”

“I’m fine.” She says with a smile, taking a sip of her butterbeer “So we should end this act, then.”

He nods lightly, “I suppose.”

“Why don’t you sound happy about it?”

“Because I know things between you and one of the Weasley twins is yet to be resolved.” He explains, taking her hand and giving it a light squeeze “I’m very sorry that with my uprising, comes your downfall with him.”

“Don’t be silly, it wasn’t your fault.” She rolls her eyes, smiling “We’ll figure something out. He’ll come around.”

No, she wasn’t sure that he'd come around. It has been weeks since their dreadful fight and George has made every effort to avoid her. She hardly ever saw him, not even at the Great Hall or the Common Room. It was as if he was a ghost that used to reside inside her brain, now gone into thin air as some beautiful myth she’s to tell to others.

But at the same time, George was there. He was still in their classes, still at quidditch practices, and every other activity that they used to do together. The fact that he hasn’t made any effort to fix their friendship hurts her. She didn’t realise that the foolish idea she proposed to Cedric would lead to such a devastating outcome.

And she too didn’t expect that their fight would make her realise that she’s in love with her own best friend.

Perhaps she was denying everyone’s question about their relationship because she was scared that the affection only flows one way. George has never approved nor denied the accusation thrown at him about them anyway and he certainly never made any effort to advance with his feelings should he ever have any in the first place. It was hard for her to tell if what others say was true about them and she didn’t want to have high hopes over something that he himself hasn’t approved of.

But now that the fight’s happened, how he blatantly says that she was bland, she knew that the words others say were mere lies. George had never liked her that way. She has always been a friend to him, nothing more. The affection he’s shown to her was nothing more than platonic and it broke her heart.

“So should we end it here? Right now?” She asks, taking a deep breath “The sooner we break up, the sooner you can woo Stimpson. Might want to be fast before she loses interest.”

Cedric smiles, nodding and standing up to give her a hug, “Thank you, and I hope you can reconcile your friendship with Weasley.”

She nods, waving goodbye to him who’s now walking out of the inn.

She let out a sigh, feeling pathetic to herself now at the corner of the Three Broomsticks. She’s lost George and now she lost Cedric too. Just how worse can her life be now?

Yet as if she’s spoken too fast, she saw her group of friends entering the inn. Fred waves at her, followed by Lee who calls for her name. George was standing not far behind them, seemingly not ready to meet her yet still follows the other two.

“Hello, stranger.” Fred greets, walking to her table “Long time no see. Where’s pretty boy?”

“Freddie,” She replies with a smile “Gone, we broke up.”

Fred’s smile fades, frowning, “I’m sorry, Love, I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, it just happened, actually.” She answers nonchalantly, turning to George this time “Supposedly you're happy now, aren’t you George?”

The boy didn’t say a word, only staring at her with an apologetic expression.

“You know what, I have to go.” She says, not wanting to spend any more minutes with his presence “I’ll see you guys around.”

And so she takes her purse and walks away from the table. She exits the inn in a hurry, not wanting to be followed by any of them. Her chest was tight and head loud. So many things running inside her mind and every one of it revolves around one particular ginger.

How could she face him now? How could she face him after their fight? He was being a jerk that day and now that they’ve broken up, it would only further feed his ego. Being right about their short lived fake relationship would be something George would wear like a badge of honour. She couldn’t care less about him being right, what bothers her is the fact that not only was he right but that she’s also the loser who hoped that her best friend was actually in love with her too.

Why couldn’t George be jealous the way Stimpson did? Why does he have to be jealous for a whole different reason? Why couldn’t he like her?

“Love, wait!”

She fastened her pace as she heard his voice calling from behind. No, she’s not ready to talk to him. Her head is still fuzzy from all the questions and self blame. Meeting him would only lead to another argument and she’s unsure if her quivering heart could survive another turbulence.

“Wait,” George says as he catches her arm, making her stop on her track “Please, I just wanted to talk.”

“Well, I don’t want to talk, George.” She says, still not looking at him “You’ve made your point and you’re right, no need to rub it on my face.”

“No, that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. What I wanted to say is-”

“Look, I’m tired, alright? It’s been a long day and I really want to get back to my room.”

“I know, this would be fast, I promise-”

“Not now, George.”

She turns her body, ready to walk away before he grabs her wrist again and turns her.

“What?!”

Before she could complain further from his persistent action, she finds herself being kissed on the lips. She could feel how tense George’s body was, in contrast to how gentle his kiss was. His eyes were tightly shut, as if afraid to see her rejection from the abrupt action. The grip on her wrist loosen, giving her the chance to pull away and shove him off if she would want to.

George lets out a nervous sigh when he pulls away. He could see her appalled expression when he opened his eyes, his blood running cold from the possible outcome of his hasty action. Would she hate him even worse now?

“I’m sorry.” He gathers, voice barely above whisper “I- I don’t know what came into me. I just-”

She didn’t let him finish his words. She pulled him for another kiss, this time showing him how to properly kiss a girl. She pulls him close, eliminating any distance between them that seems to be growing further apart lately, He hesitantly rests his hands on her waist, showing more meaning and confidence to his action. Both of their hearts were beating wild, adrenaline pumping through their vessels as they prayed that the other party wouldn’t regret this once they breath for some air.

“We have so much to talk about.” George says in between the kisses “How is this happening?”

“Less talking,” She answers short “More kissing.”

George grins through the kisses. He now has his hands cupping her cheeks gently, giving her his most possible soft caresses. Merlin knows how much he waited and prayed for this to happen. The second guessing and self doubt now has dissipated, melting away with every peck they share. At last the denial has come to a close. Both acknowledging and embracing their long hoarded feelings for each other with glee. What was once loved and lost, have now returned, giving them the chance to properly show their devotion this time.

#george weasley #george weasley oneshot #george weasley scenario #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley imagine #george weasley angst #george weasley fluff #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x oc

[bittersweetorpheus]

☆ LIFE, DEATH, AND REBIRTH ☆

☆ AUTHORS NOTES ☆

(This ended up getting written from Dottore’s POV. The God featured here is reader.)

😋 SACRILEGIOUS DOTTORE X DEITY!READER ???!!!!

I know I’ve been going for M.O.N.T.H.S but I came back to drop this and leave again. I was chatting with a dottore bot on character.ai which got my brain juices flowinggg so I had to open my computer and write this!

P.S: a certain part of this fic was inspired by one of hoyoverses other games *cough* HONKAI STAR RAIL *cough* 🤭. The real ones know which part it is ‼️💪

☆ CONTENT WARNINGS ☆

Death, gore, corpse, body horror aspects, sumeru archon quest spoilers

Dottore would admit that he wasn’t the least bit religious. Unlike the families that would give thanks before each meal and the Tsaritsa who believed Celestia should be struck down for trying to gain authority while You were absent, he couldn’t care less.

Afterall, however powerful they were, Archons could still die, so what was the difference between them when they all succumbed to the hands of death in the end? Was it power? No, he, himself, had created a being powerful enough to host the Gnosis of Kusanali, the Dendro Archon. Was it their life span? No, he, himself, had managed to create doubles of himself, all from different points in his life.

So in short, he didn’t spare a thought for the Archons, left alone The Creator. This, of course, did not help his nefarious reputation by any means, but he spared it no thoughts.

He did however grow curious about the abilities about this so called Creator when rumors about their descent started. Now, he finds himself in his main laboratory in the Tsaritsa’s palace with The Creator sitting on the examination table across from him- mind you, the cot that he had stained with blood just a week or two ago.

Now that he thinks about it, he never got around to cleaning it.

“Well?” The voice snaps him out of his thoughts. He turns to look at them.

They wear a veil made out of a material he’s never seen before. Its sheer enough for him to make out the outline of Their face if he squints, but not more than that. Their clothes are made of the same material and seem to flow and move on their own, as if gusts of wind are constantly blowing at their garments.

Even if They aren’t The Creator, they’re definitely something far from mortal.

“Your blood is certainly unlike any I’ve ever seen before. It’s as if you melted cor lapis and combined it with crushed star sliver, but it glows like lumenstone. I wonder if it has any affect on organisms of this world, or if it just looks like this and nothing else.” He observes.

They chuckle dryly, “why don’t you drink it and find out?”

He grimaces beneath his mask, he’d rather not chug down a nefarious bodily liquid at 2 in the morning from someone who he dosen’t care much for.

Not that They were unattractive, of course. He would go far enough to say They were probably the only one who made him take more than a few glances at. No hard feelings, he just dosen’t care much for The Creator… or fakers.

They seem to pick up his feelings about what They just said and glide down from the examination table.

“Or would you rather I show you some properties of my blood myself?” They ask, pointing their intricate fan towards the corpse of his previous patient across the lab from them.

That fan had gotten Pantalone and Ningguang into an amusing biding war against each other, each hoping to gift it to The Creator. In the end, The Creator caught wind of it and ended up setting up a business meeting to stop the nonsensical month-long biding war. They left with a blush on their face and both several times richer. Apparently The Creator had managed to get them to get along and turn the business meeting from about one about a fan to an important business meeting that helped both of them build important business connections with each other.

“Give me the vial,” They command.

He’s already walken over to Them and given Them the vial before he realizes what he did.

They pour the vial of their ichor over the corpse and it springs to life in an instant, screaming and moving away from Dottore.

It seems like the people they revive retain their memories, Dottore notes.

“Are you satisfied now? Or is there something more that you’re expecting?” They ask him. He can’t see their face through the veil but he gets the uncanny feeling that they’re staring straight through his very soul.

“I’ll admit that this is quite fascinating, however, it’s… unexpected, to say the least.” He admits.

“Oh? Why is that?” They drawl.

He gets the feeling that they’re probably smirking right now.

“While some legends do say that The Creator’s ichor heals and even resuscitates people, most them say that even a drop of The Creator’s ichor could bring about the cataclysm.

Once, he had wondered if that had been the start of the cataclysm, or if it was just another fabrication.

“Hm, is that how this world sees my ichor?” They hum, “well, every universe has different theories about me.”

“Oh? Then is it true? Can a drop of your ichor cause the end of this universe?” He says, teasingly, or mockingly- he dosen’t really know either.

“It depends on the mood I’m in,” They reply.

Yeah, They’re definitely smirking right now.

“But I suppose with the type of person you are, you wouldn’t believe me unless you saw it with your own eyes,” They say, snapping their fingers, “come, my darling Zandik.”

He raises his eyebrow at that. That definitely caught him off guard, all right, however, what catches him more off guard is the portal that appears in his lab.

He takes one last glance at his laboratory. This chance only comes once in a life time, after all. Even if They aren’t what They say They are, at least he’s getting some entertainment out of this.

He steps into the portal after them. Curiosity killed the cat, or whatever ridiculous saying there is, but he’s in one piece when he steps out of the portal.

He gives himself a quick glance over. No new limbs sprouting from his body.

He takes in his surroundings. He seems to be in a universe with buildings that look similar to Liyue’s but with flying ships and surrounded by more advanced technology than he can take in.

“Look.” The Creator commands, pointing to guards dresses in what he would assume is this world’s armor.

On a side note, they’ve arrived on a huge tree overlooking the middle of a battle.

Some soldiers crouch with their hands over their heads. Looking closer, Dottore can see branches sprouting from inside their armor, (their bodies?), and growing outwards. Slowly, they all collapse and become afflicted with the same condition as them, sprouting foliage from their bodies with a grotesque scream.

Sensing his confusion, The Creator launches into a story.

“Not many people know this, but I don’t create the universes and worlds all by myself. This world was a case where I got bored and decided to create another god, or Archon, as you call them in your world, to have them shape this world instead. Whilst they was shaping this world, they grew more and more attached to the mortals in this world. They approached me and told me that everytime a mortal that he loved past away, their heart grew heavier and heavier. They begged me for a sample of my ichor, believing that if the mortals started drinking my ichor in place of water, they would remain immortal and everlasting, just like me. I warned them of the risk but he stayed adamant. I loved them, so I gave them my blood.” The Creator seemed to wilt in sadness. “Instead of being ‘gifted’ eternal life like they thought the mortals would be, the mortals became struck with a curse where, when they died, their body would start decomposing like it would a normal dead one, but they were still alive. In a last ditch attempt to save their people, the god sacrificied themself to me, hoping that their sacrifice would convince me to help their people. I buried the god in the earth we’re on right now, and the power imbued in the earth was the cause of the foliage growing from the mortals… or immortals now, I suppose.”

“Dottore stayed silent for a few beats after their story, “then if you’re The Creator, will you ever die?”

“It depends on what your definition of ‘death’ is,” The Creator replied, “I’ve died millions of times, over and over again and will continue to do so, but then again, I’ve also never died a single time and will never die. I am not the god of life, death, and rebirth, I am the concept itself. Everything comes from me and everything will return to me in the end because I am everything.”

The Creator slowly removed their veil, and reality itself seemed to break the more of Their face that They revealed. They looked him in the eyes, and it felt like he was looking at everything and nothing at the same time. He could see the void in their eyes, a place of nothingness, but also everything that was happening in the universe at the same time.

They put their veil back on. “Well, did that satisfy your curiosity, my darling mad scientist?”

Dottore could feel his heart speed up, an unfamiliar feeling filling his chest- Oh Creator, is he religious now? Well, whatever he might be now, he thinks hes not so against drinking nefarious bodily liquid after all.

#sagau #genshin impact sagau #sagau x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #il dottore #il dottore x reader #dottore x reader #zandik #fatui harbingers #genshin impact fatui #fatui x reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #pantalone #ninnguang

[cassiefromhell]

Bats and Fire: The Very Beginnings

What if we took y/n (who is, in this fic, a monster researcher/hunter) being mated to a couple acotar men... then made it all the acotar men (batboys, eris, lucien)....

So this was a silly joke. Then I wrote it. Then I realized that this could be multiple parts... so welcome to:

Bats and Fire

01 - The Very Beginnings

(this is such proof that i will write anything and i'm 6x more likely to write it if its MESSY and CHAOTIC)

Warnings: none

WC: 2k

Finding out you’re mated to all the ACOTAR men would be a doozy.

At first it’s Rhys, when you make eye contact with him while on a business visit in Velaris…

“I know,” you laugh, gently nudging your friend’s shoulder. “Boo hoo, you don’t like the Night Court. But it’s beautiful. We’ve been in worse places on business.”

“That’s tru— oh my cauldron, look who it is!” She points to the back of a man walking with a tall blonde woman, and you can immediately sense the power radiating off of him. He must be who you’re looking for: the High Lord of Night.

“Yes!” you grin, tightening your grip on the jar in your hands — which holds a very menacing pixie that has been stealing magic from residents of Prythian all over. The High Lord of Autumn had commissioned its capture, and you had tracked it back to night, and well… here you were.

“Lord Rhysand!” you call out, gracefully sliding your way through the crowd. “Lord Rhysand, I must speak with you!”

Someone bumps into you, and you stumble, crashing straight into the High Lord’s chest. 

“You bellowed?”

“Yes, yes— sorry, my Lord. But you see, this pixie—”

But then you look up, meeting his stunning violet-blue gaze.

You drop your jar, and it shatters on the cobblestone ground, the pixie exploding out of the rubble, trying to make a break for it. The creature is immediately surrounded by darkness, unable to make its grand escape.

“You’re…” you whisper, covering your mouth with a hand. 

“…My mate.”

Cassian and Azriel came shortly after. You and Rhys got close quickly, so why wouldn’t you be introduced to his friends?

“Darling?” Rhysand says, glancing around the room, his eyes finally landing on you. “Oh, good— you’re all ready. Remember that it’s cold, so wear plenty of layers—”

You blink up at him, gesturing to the not one, not two, not three, but four layers he’s made you put on. “Rhys. I’m going to be very warm. I’ve been to the Illyrian mountains on hunting trips before and I can confirm that this is too much.”

“It’s gotten colder in recent years.”

“Sure.”

Rhys grins, kisses the side of your head, and takes your hand. “Ready? We won’t be there for two long, I just want to do a little surveillance with the camps and introduce you to my brothers while we’re there.”

With a quick nod, you’re  enveloped by darkness and wind. And then it all fades, and chill air bites at your cheeks and nose.

Rhysand holds you close to his side as you trudge through the snow. You wrap your coats tighter around yourself, leaning into his warmth.

And then you feel it.

You freeze.

An electric connection stuns you, seeming to form at your heart and spread through your chest. 

And then another.

You reluctantly look over your shoulder, cursing when you see them. Two tall Illyrian males, staring at you. They definitely know. And you have the gut feeling that these two males are the Cassian and Azriel that Rhys told you about.

“Ah, look, there they are,” Rhys grins, waving towards the two males, who have both started in your direction.

This is your moment: fight, flight, or freeze? Your heart pounds in your chest—they’re getting closer—and the crowd is so thick with people…

As a monster researcher and hunter, you’ve never fled once in your life.

…But now is a fantastic time to start.

“Restroom,” you blurt, and then sprint from Rhys’s side, burying yourself in the crowd of taller Fae and wings and fur coats.

You weave between the people, attempting to mask your scent, and then burst into a small corner shop. A bakery, filled with the smells of bread and pastries. Perfect to cover your trail.

You walk up to the counter, fishing out a few coppers. “Do you have anything particularly smelly?”

The baker raises a brow, his wings shifting behind him as he gives you a once-over dripping with judgment. “Excuse me?”

“Love?”

You curse under your breath at the sound of Rhys’s voice. And then you slowly turn around, finding your mate… and your other two mates.

So you face your fate.

The Illyrians were easy to love. You got to know them in a matter of weeks, but you had other jobs to attend to, and was soon in the Autumn Court, where you had to finally turn in that damned pixie to High Lord Eris…

Are you sure you feel safe there? Azriel asks down the bond. One of us can come and accompany you.

Yes, you confirm. All is well. I’m just turning in this little beast. I’ll be back before sundown.

He sent you a wave of love, paired with a sarcastic you have fun with that.

So here you are, climbing a ladder to get to the top level of the Autumn palace. It’s built like a treehouse, with ladders separating the levels unless you’re nobility or a special guest, in which case you get to use the fancy-dancy wooden staircases in the center. 

But being a monster specialist is pretty damn far from nobility. So you get the ladders route.

You decide that you hate this place.

Hoisting yourself up onto the final platform, where the throne room is, you climb to your feet. 

A guard gives you a dirty look, holding out a spear to stop you in your path. “Female. State your name and business.”

You say your name, and hold up the jar containing a very angry pixie. “The High Lord commissioned this pixie’s capture. Now, if you’ll let me go, this Tinkerbelle is very eager to find an escape route.”

“You didn’t give advance warning of your visit.”

“I sent word a month ago,” you snarl, baring your teeth.

His spear strikes you quicker than your Fae reflexes can react. It collides with your cheek, sending you stumbling back, blood rushing down your jaw.

“What in Prythian are you doing, Magus?” an unfamiliar male voice enters the encounter, and you immediately see boots approaching.

“She was trying to force her way in—”

“Liar,” you hiss. You wipe away the blood and face the guard once more, free hand tightening on the pixie jar. “I have proper certification, if you would just let me—”

“She’s aggressive, your majesty.”

Your majesty?

You look up at the male who had approached. You’re met with a golden-skinned male, with a  scar through one eye and a whirring, mechanical eyeball. When he too looks at you, you feel the slightest… ittiest bittiest… tug.

Shit.

His jaw drops, long ginger hair falling over his shoulder. “You’re…”

The doors to the throne room swing open, revealing a male that looks like your newfound fourth mate. But he’s wearing a crown, so he must be the High Lord that you came for.

And when his stunning copper eyes turn to you, it happens.

For the fifth time.

“Nope,” you say, throwing the jar in High Lord Eris’s direction. “Nope. Not again. Not doing this.”

With that, you turn on your heel, starting back towards the ladder.

“Wait,” the first male jumps in front of you, eyes glimmering. “You’re… you’re my mate.”

“What do you mean?” Eris jumps in, stepping into view and rapidly approaching. “She’s my mate.”

“See, so there’s this phenomenon,” you start, gritting your teeth. “I already have three mates. I don’t feel the need for another two. The Mother is cruel and she thinks that building me a harem is great entertainment. But you two are officially out. Capishe?”

The two males looked at eachother, and then back to you—

But you were gone.

We have an issue, you stated down the bond to your Illyrian mates.

You knew that blocking out two mates would not work. And it didn’t. They sent you flowers and gifts, and... oh, the gifts... such expensive and exquisite things... for weeks, until you caved… and called a meeting for all of your mates.

You sit in silence at The House of Wind’s dining table, monitoring the males’ expressions. They're all glaring at each other. The Mother definitely could have given you a less… volatile… group.

“Okay,” you start, scratching the back of your neck. “So… I think this is it.”

“I’d like to put it on the record that you said you were sure we were all last time,” Cassian grits out, wings rigid at his back. 

“This is different. Now, we need to go over rules, boundaries… anything that comes to mind?”

“Separated court times,” Lucien starts, seeming rather open to the situation. “Eris and I manage the Autumn Court, and these three are always in Night, so it makes sense to do a week-on, week-off schedule.”

“Her work requires her to travel,” Azriel joins in, twirling Truth-Teller in his hand. “You couldn’t expect her to just stay in your court for a week at a time.”

“Of course he didn’t mean that,” Eris snarls, ear twitching. “He meant during her off time.”

“I could—” you try to join in, but it doesn’t really work out for you.

“I plan on making her my High Lady, which she has already agreed to,” Rhysand growls. “So she’ll be spending a lot of time in the Night Court.”

Cassian nods, joining in. “And we don’t want her to give up her passions. Which seems to be what you want. So she’ll be either at the Night Court or traveling. You two can… visit… her.”

“I really wouldn’t mind—”

“And what if I want her to be my High Lady?” Eris stands, lips pulling back as he faces Rhys. “Perhaps she’d prefer to reside in a more respectable court than Night.”

That prompts both Azriel and Cassian to stand, growling and wings flaring. “You’re a piece of scum and she does not deserve to be tied to the likes of you,” Azriel responds, bitterness and anger dripping in his tone.

“Have you lost all your dignity?” Lucien shoots to his feet too, and Rhys follows suit.

They start yelling. And arguing. And every time you try to cut in, they ignore you.

So you conjure up something that should get their attention.

“Contraceptive brews!” you shout, throwing your arms in the air.

Sure enough, the males go silent, turning to look at you.

“Sit down.”

And they all do.

Like puppies taking a command.

“Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel and I have all agreed that the males take the contraceptive brews. I have a rigorous travel schedule that often includes random overnights in the woods or mountains while hunting or researching, so I don’t always have access to them,” you explain, gesturing to the Illyrians.

Eris raises a brow. “Wouldn’t it make sense for you to just carry it with you rather than all five of us taking—”

“Drink the brew or you don’t get it,” Cassian growls, making a lewd gesture.

“New rule. No more fighting. It’s overwhelming and stupid.” you announce, taking the ribbon out of your hair and putting it in the middle of the table. “This is the Talking Ribbon. When you want to talk, you must have the ribbon. Else you shut the fuck up.”

“That is your—”

“Rhys. Talking Ribbon.”

Rhys obediently takes the ribbon, then tries speaking again. “This is your favorite ribbon. I wouldn’t risk this being used… it could get torn.”

Lucien takes the ribbon gingerly, and then faces you. “Then we will not tear the ribbon. Right, everyone?”

The males all nod.

You sigh, and then gesture around the group. “My time will be spent as I please. Now, I think I’ve been here for as long as I need to, so you five can work out the details on your own.” You stand, and walk away from the table.

“Love,” Rhys calls after you. “Love, I think that maybe we would benefit from your presence—”

“I can’t always be your mediator. I have a Wyrm to hunt. Good night.”

And you leave the males to grumble amongst each other.

If you'd like to be tagged for future 'bats and fire' chaos, comment and I'll add you to the taglist!

Read 02 HERE

#THIS WAS ORIGINALLY A JOKE PLEASE HELP #but now i have ideas for like six more parts :( #this is primarily a comedy piece #writing #acotar #fanfiction #a court of thorns and roses #eris acotar #eris vanserra #fanfic #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #a court of wings and ruin #eris x reader x azriel #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x you #f!reader #fem reader #acotar men #acotar men x reader #rhysand #rhysand x reader #cassian #cassian x reader #lucien vanserra

[sparklypinkflightsuit]

Blessed Be: Chapter 1

Pairing: Detective!Bob Floyd x Reader

WitchAU

Summary: You get to know Bob better, and your mother drops a bombshell.

Warnings: Witchcraft, Magic, Swearing, Sexual Themes, Smut, Alcohol, Angst, Fluff, Slow Burn, I think that’s it?

-Prologue Here-

————————————

You were flitting around your kitchen when you felt it again, the hairs on the back of your neck standing straight. The goosebumps followed not long after, and you stopped what you were doing to look out into the dark garden. It was no use, the night was black and the new moon did little to illuminate anything. You snapped your fingers and the lanterns in the large garden flickered on.

Nothing.

“Moooom!” You called upstairs. Sally, your mother, thundered down the stairs, her reading glasses slipping down her nose.

“What Bree?” She hissed. You had clearly interrupted her spells, again.

“I have that weird feeling again, and I can’t figure out why.” You pouted.

Your mom sighed, and closed the distance to the kitchen, pulling her cardigan tighter around her.

“Ok do you think it was definitely that man-“

“Bob.”

“Do you think it was definitely Bob that made you feel that way?” She asked, arms crossed but her gaze tough but loving.

You nodded, “Yeah, I mean I think so. I’ve never felt anything like that before, so… it must have been.” You shrugged.

“Well maybe it happens when he thinks about you, the aunts said that certain witches have the ability to sense when they’re on someone’s mind.”

“Ok but then why hasn’t it happened before? I’d like to think he’s not the very first person ever that’s at least had a fleeting thought of me.” You smirked.

Just then a broom in the corner of the kitchen fell with a loud clatter on the stone floor.

You and your mom both looked at each other with wide eyes.

“Company.” You said in unison, and made your way to the front door.

It was only you and your mom now, your two sisters had moved away, Aunt Gillian had decided to travel the world, and the aunts had retired to a beautiful cottage in the French countryside. Your father, Gary, had sadly died not long after in a boating accident, and your mother blamed the curse that befell all men who loved an Owens woman.

You supposed that you should start your own life, being an adult woman and all, but when your sisters left and your father died, your mom needed you, and truth be told you needed her just as much. You took over the shop for her so that she could focus on her spells, something she stopped altogether when her world fell apart.

You reached the front door and you both stood on the porch and waited.

Waited for whoever was about to drive up to the big white house on the cliff.

You waited for so long that the soup on the stove bubbled over and hissed against the open flames, and you were about to chalk the broom falling over to a gust of wind, and go back to your cooking, when suddenly two headlights pulled up the drive and the car parked in front of the garden gate.

You held your breath for whoever was going to step out of the car, however you already knew it was him. You could feel it.

————————————

Bob had given up on sleep long before he grabbed his keys and climbed into his car. He didn’t know where he was going but the pull was too strong to ignore and he decided following it was his only option.

He drove through the darkness slowly, the quiet streets dotted with cosy houses, illuminated by late night tv watchers or new lovers talking at dimly lit kitchen tables into the early hours of the morning.

Bob knew it was nearly midnight, but he didn’t know what else to do. The only way to describe the feeling was that it was similar to an intense hunger, one that he couldn’t ignore, only it wasn’t hunger he was feeling. He was starved for something he couldn’t understand.

Before he knew it, Bob was pulling up to a big white house on a steep cliff side, glowing from the inside with soft yellow light, beckoning him, comforting and warm. He felt like he was in a trance when he parked the car, no longer in control of his actions.

He climbed out of the vehicle and stared at the giant house, not noticing the two women staring at him from it.

“Bob?” One of them suddenly called, it was you.

Bob snapped out of his trance and his eyes found you.

“Bree?” He asked, confused. “You… you live here?” He stuttered.

You nodded, a silence filling the garden between you as you both stood wondering what he was doing here. “Wanna come in for dinner?” You asked kindly, sensing his confusion was likely more than yours.

“Uh… it’s- it’s Midnight though?” He chuckled nervously.

“Ah! You’re right, I better get the midnight margaritas started.” Your mother clapped, running back inside.

Bobs eyes were as wide as saucers, his mind going a mile a minute. He wasn’t sure why he was here, or what had drawn him to you. He didn’t understand why you seemed so calm about everything and why you were inviting a total stranger in for dinner and drinks at midnight.

What confused Bob more than anything is that his feet began to move before his mind caught up, before he had even agreed to come in. He wondered if the internal force had suddenly overpowered him, or if he really just wanted to see you that badly that his body made the decision for him, but he wasn’t fighting it anymore.

———————————

You closed the door behind Bob as he smiled at you and took in the inside of the house.

“Your house is beautiful.” He mumbled, his large hand running through his hair in an attempt to neaten the unruly strands as he looked around the warmly lit interior.

“Thanks. It’s my moms. Let me introduce you properly.” You beckoned for him to follow you into the kitchen.

“Mom, this is Bob. Bob, this is my mom, Sally.” You smiled.

Bobs eyes went wide as he realised the woman beside you was your mother. She had barely aged a day since you were born and looked more like a slightly older sister. He realised he was being impolite and gave your mom a smile, sticking out his hand to shake hers.

“Nice to meet you ma’am.” He said.

Your mom chuckled and pulled him in for a hug. “Please, call me Sal.” She said, then released him and turned back to where she was stirring the soup.

Your face went a bright shade of crimson and you wanted to remind your mom that you’d only met Bob once, and not to get too comfortable, but something inside you stopped the thought in its tracks when Bob turned to look at you again. His soft blue eyes burned heat into your skin and again, he felt so familiar you were suddenly overwhelmed with comfort.

“Shall we go sit on the porch while we wait?” You offered gently. Bob nodded and followed you out to the back, the sound of the waves below and crickets chirping made for a calming ambiance alongside the still lit lanterns.

You beckoned for Bob to sit on the swinging chair and you took to a rocking chair next to it, close enough to see the freckles that dotted his tanned cheeks but still far enough to be deemed respectable for a stranger.

“So what brings you here Bob? Need more candles?” You joked, a soft smile adorning your lips. You wrapped your cardigan slightly tighter around you as a cool breeze wafted across the porch.

“I… this is embarrassing but, I don’t actually know why I’m here. The last few days… my heads been all over the place, you know? I just up and left my job, my home, and just drove. I ended up here somehow and something told me to walk into your store yesterday. Then tonight, I couldn’t sleep and I got in my car, and…” He chuckled nervously as he rubbed his stubbled jaw, fully aware of how crazy he must have sounded to you in that moment.

You smiled, “That’s not embarrassing. Sounds like you just have a restless mind and curiosity for things.” You shrugged, sitting back in the rocking chair. You downplayed what you really thought was happening, you weren’t about to scare the handsome man away with your spiritual ramblings. Surely a sane man such as himself wouldn’t actually believe in fate, magic and spells.

Bob smiled back at you, then shook his head lightly. “Thing is, both times I’ve ended up in front of you. Think that’s just a coincidence?”

You bit your cheek and thought for a moment on how best to word what you were thinking, “Ok, so you’re just a stalker then?” You joked, eliciting a loud chuckle from Bob, his eyes sparkling at your unexpected humour.

“In all honesty Bob, I think there are certain pulls and pushes in this universe that we can’t really explain. Who are we to question them?” You said earnestly.

Bob nodded, you had just summed it up perfectly, the feeling he’d felt his entire life. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Before Bob could say anything else, your mom popped her head out the door and handed you each a margarita. You both thanked her and she disappeared back inside to finish dinner.

“So midnight margaritas huh?” Bob laughed. “Is it a special occasion?”

You laughed back, “No, we just do this sometimes. It’s sort of a family tradition.”

Bob nodded and you spoke for a while about your family and his. You learnt he was a detective like your dad, and that he enjoyed the beach, gardening and actually wore glasses most of the time, if he couldn’t be bothered to put in his contacts.

He listened to you speak about your love for animals and botany, and that the store was a family business.

After a while your mom called you both in to eat, and the three of you chatted while you did so.

At about 3am you walked Bob to his car.

“Thank you again for tonight, it was… different, but I really really enjoyed myself.” He smiled that crooked smile, his eyes burning into yours.

“Thank you for coming. It was nice to have company for once.” You smiled, your arms wrapped around yourself to keep the cool spring breeze from freezing your skin.

“Drive safe, Bob.” You said, but it was more of a spell to ensure he really was safe. You turned to walk back to the house.

“Bree, what are you doing tomorrow?” Bob asked suddenly, a tinge on nerves in his deep voice.

You turned to face him.

“Not much, why?” You queried.

“I was wondering if you’d like to go to lunch, with me? I still don’t know the area much, would be nice to have a tour guide.” He chuckled.

You grinned at the night sky as you contemplated his offer, but it didn’t take you long.

You nodded as you looked back down at him, “Sure. Pick me up at 11.”

Bob tried to stifle his smile by biting his lip, and opened his car door. “See you then.”

You watched as he drove off, leaving nothing but dust and excitement in the air.

You walked back into the house and found your mom reading at the kitchen table.

“Hey.” You said with a grin as you sat down.

“You didn’t tell me he was a looker.” She grinned down at her book.

“Yeah, he is handsome as hell. He’s a detective like daddy was.” You smiled, your chin resting longingly in your palm as you rested your elbow on the table.

Your moms eyes lifted from her book suddenly and she shot you a look.

“What?” You asked, straightening defensively in your seat.

“You don’t remember?” She asked.

“Remember what, mom?” You mirrored her expression with your own look of confusion.

“Honey, when you were little you summoned a true love spell, just like I did when I was little.”

Your eyes suddenly lit up as you remembered.

“Amas Veritas.” You both said in unison.

“Oh no.” You breathed.

“You wrote down that your true love would be a detective just like your daddy was.” She confirmed, putting her book down and taking off her glasses.

Suddenly the memory came back to you, and you clasped your hand over your mouth in realisation.

“And that he would wear glasses, love the sea, and someone who would enjoy gardening with me.” You whispered almost to yourself.

Although you didn’t write your spell so that it would be impossible to find your one true love, like your mom thought she had done when she was young, you hadn’t expected your spell to actually have worked. You had written down the features and requirements of your dream guy at the time, a cute, shy, nerdy kid. Over the years your idea of the perfect man had moulded and changed, but at the back of your mind you had always preferred the shy bespectacled man you’d dreamt of as a kid.

“I guess that would explain why he’s in town.” She sighed.

“No, I can’t do this. Not with the curse, mom.” You suddenly wanted to cry when you realised what this had meant.

The curse on the Owens women was still very much alive. Your mother had thought she’d broken the curse when she met your dad, but sadly he still befell the same fate as all men who love a woman in your family. The moment the ticking of the deathwatch beetle sounds, their fate is inevitably sealed.

“So what do you think you’re going to do? Just live your life not knowing what great love you could have had?” She asked, sadness in her eyes and a disapproving frown on her lips.

“If that means I don’t cause the death of some poor unsuspecting man, then yes, mom. Especially Bob, he’s far too kind to be subject to something as horrible as that. Plus, we don’t even know for sure he’s the one.” You lied, you knew without a shadow of a doubt that Bob Floyd was the man you’d dreamt of your entire life, the man you’d inadvertently linked to you for all of eternity. You knew him without knowing him, the familiar face of a stranger.

“Fine, suit yourself honey, but I was like you once. I told myself after my first husband died that I would never again subject myself or anyone else to something like that. But then your dad came along, and believe me when I say there’s no hiding from it. You will know when he’s the one, because you won’t be able to stop it.” She warned softly, flicking through the pages of her book.

You excused yourself and said goodnight to your mother, before ascending the stairs to your bedroom. You sat on your windowsill and stared down at the winding road below that led to the little town, some lights still aglow, and wondered if one of them was Bobs room, and if he was still as wide awake as you were. You had decided that after your lunch date tomorrow, you would say goodbye and make it clear that you could no longer see him. You were sure he’d be fine with this, as he was probably just a lonely tourist after a little friendship.

Little did you know that Bob Floyd was not planning on leaving any time soon, at least not without you by his side.

————————————

- Chapter 2 Here -

#lewis pullman fanfic #lewis pullman x reader #lewis pullman #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fic #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd #robert bob floyd x reader #robert floyd #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd x you #top gun bob #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #witchcraft #practical magic #romance #rhett abbott

[infi8ity]

HE WAS AN INEBRIATED HOPELESS MESS.

you could tell as much from the phone call. barely could you make out a sentence through his slurred words and the loud music, but you had picked up on several, i miss you’s and you were my everything’s. 

a small part of you wanted to hang up on him and go back to sleep-- if one could call being wide awake, tossing and turning-- but you were still friends. good friends. it had been a few months but a three year relationship ended through mutual decision didn’t erase a decade’s long friendship. 

and even if the breakup had been messy, you knew that he’d come to you in a heartbeat. 

you found him perched against the wall of the bar, lost in a drunken thought when you drove up. perhaps the thought somewhere along the lines of, why the fuck did i ask my ex to come pick my drunk ass up at 3 in the morning?, was running through his head. because the exact opposite thought was sure running through yours. 

you park the car across the street and can’t help the loud sigh that escapes you. a million different scenarios of how the rest of your night could go, plays through your head and each of them ends with even more heartache on your behalf.

you rest your head against the steering wheel, and mutter to yourself, “grow a pair y/n.” 

exiting the car, you shiver and pull your coat tighter around you, the chilling night’s wind a harsh reminder that he was standing outside shaking like a leaf from his lack of a jacket. it was the middle of winter. how messed up did he get?

you coolly make your way towards him. in utter awe at the sight of you, he leans his head against the brick wall, grinning lazily. that goddamn smile. the lamppost behind you illuminates his features. allowing you to give in to the temptations and admire him once more. his cheeks are dusted pink and his lips are slightly chapped from the cold. his eyes are glossed over and his pupils dilated. 

“hi beautiful,” he says. his voice raspy and hoarse. 

you could say the same to him. but you only narrow your eyes. a silent warning. you knew his tricks and games. “don’t hi beautiful me. It's three in the morning. i have to get up for work in a few hours. you know this.”

he sighs regretfully and slides against the wall to the snow littered concrete. “i do, i know. i’m sorry y/n.” he replies, his head in his hands. 

“and it’s freezing out. where’s your jacket?” 

no response. you lightly toe his shoe with your boot. 

“hey. where’s your jacket? and where are your keys?” 

he looks up at you beneath his lashes and huffs a laugh, void of any humor. “i’ve got no fucking clue y/n. not the slightest. i don’t even know what i’m doing here. i don’t even know why i wasted your time calling you here.” 

“are you okay?” you inquire, voice laced with concern. 

“are you? we haven’t spoken in a while. and i miss you.”

“so you’ve said.” he quirks an eyebrow. “over the phone. among other things.”

“oh,” he groans melodramatically. “how bad?”

“terrible. pretty sure you said something about me having a killer body-,”

“jackass.” 

you shrug and lean against the wall next to him. “hey, you know you can talk to me if something’s going on.”

he nods, acknowledging you. “i know. i know.” he stands, albeit disjointedly and stepping on your toe in the process. “i’m sorry for waking you. i’ll just walk home.” he says to no one in particular, making his way across the street. 

you smack your teeth and reach out for his arm. stubbornly, he pulls against you and you latch on to his fingers, holding tightly. “jesus you’re freezing,” you whisper, your breath forming in the air. “and you’re going the wrong way genius. you live the other way. you’re so fucked up right now you can’t even tell. i don’t want to argue with you. just get in the car.”

he doesn’t bother to reply, he simply opts to stare into your eyes. searching. hoping. and for a second you forget its cold as hell. for a second, you forget that he’s no longer yours. you feel his thumb brush against the back of your hand and you flinch. there it is. that trap. 

you snatch your hand back. nope.

“y/n...” he groans strangely.

“don’t say another word. just get in the-,”

and the motherfucker retches into the snow and on to your boots. 

∞

the car ride to your apartment was silent. thank god. mostly because he’d fallen asleep sometime during the fifteen minute drive. but still, thank everything holy. the silence gave you time to think about whatever the fuck that was and confront the horrifying fact that he still had a choke hold on you. 

you shudder at the thought, all the way from the car to your front door. the shudder stays even as you slip out of your boots marked with bodily fluid and into your house slippers. you toss his dead weight to the sofa collapsing to the floor, breathless, you nearly fall with him. 

you fix a glass of iced water and grab two pain killers and a stomach soothing pill from the kitchen. when you make your way back to the living room, he’s moved from the sofa to the rug. you kick at his unconscious form, startling him

“sorry. take this. wash it down and drink all of it.” you hand him the pills and water, standing directly over him to watch him carefully as he follows your directions. “i’m going to run the shower for you. okay?”

he mutters something incoherent, pulling a pillow from the sofa and flopping on his side comfortably. 

“and take your goddamn shoes off in my house,” you call over your shoulder. “caveman.”

he grunts a caveman-like response.

you snort and shuffle to your bedroom to rummage through the drawers for some of his clothes that you never thought to return. strangely enough most of his shirts and joggers sat in your laundry basket... as if ... a certain someone had been wearing them to bed or late night trips to the store...

the steam from the hot shower engulfs the room whilst you lay out clothing, body wash, an unopened toothbrush, mouthwash, and-- towels. shoot. you open the closet and fish for towels when he stumbles in. 

“oh hey, i was just about to come get you and ohmygodwhatareyoudoing?”

you lift the towels to your eyes to obstruct the view of him pulling his pants down to take a piss. he’s so fucking out of it. you’re sure he hasn’t even noticed your presence. 

“jesus!”

you hurriedly rush out of the bathroom, throwing the towels behind you and running to your room which happened to be void of half naked exes. it was going to be a long night. 

an hour later, you’d nearly drifted back off into sleep when there’s a knock at your door. 

“come in.” you croak, switching on your bedside lamp.

he opens the door, peaking in, fully dressed, hair damp. “you don’t happen to have a blanket or something do you? i was half tempted to use your rug for warmth.” 

you press your palm to your head and curse. “no, i’m sorry, a friend stole my only one because she liked the designs.”

“oh,”

“yeah.”

“that’s fine. goodnight y/n. thank you anyways.” he starts to close the door.

“wait,” you’re going to regret this so much. “honestly you’re plenty familiar with this bed.” he clears his throat at the sudden rush of memories. “just sleep in here. i can make a pillow wall or something.”

the room stands so still and silent it almost makes you want to scream. was that weird to offer? did you overstep? 

“are you sure?” he asks, slowly making his way in. 

no! “yeah, pfft i don’t care.”

“cause i was fine with using your dish towel. really.” you giggle at the smart remark.

a familiar sensation one could only describe as nostalgia fills you when you feel the bed dip in as he crawls in beside you. you’d lived through this night routine countless times. some part of you half hoped that he’d lean over to give you a goodnight’s kiss and tell you he loved you. like he used to. like he did hundreds of times before.

but he doesn’t. 

he simply places a pillow in between you two and you turn out the light. you both had more to say to each other. but in your hearts they were best left as words unspoken.

“goodnight y/n.” i still love you.

“goodnight.” i still love you too.

#infi8ity∞ #infi8ity∞sfw #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #is this angst...? #haikyuu scenarios #hq #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #kuroo testuro #kuroo x reader #bokuto x reader #bokuto koutarou #atsumu x reader #osamu x reader #atsumu miya #issei matsukawa #matsukawa x reader #oikawa tooru #osamu miya #oikawa x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk #attack on titan fluff #aot #eren yeager #eren x reader #reiner braun x y/n

[blainesebastian]

butler's babies

ship: austin butler x female reader rating: PG word count: 2,197 summary: reader drops off their niece at daycare, turns out the owner is quite handsome warnings: none notes: i pass a place called 'butler's babies' on the way to work every morning and this idea just created itself. something short and sweet haha taglist: @stylespresleyhearted, @austinbutlermischief, @killerqueenfan

“Are you sure about this place?” You ask, balancing your phone in one hand against your ear while your other arm holds onto your niece, Layla. You’re helping your sister out with her two-year-old while she goes through a nasty divorce—figures it’s the least you can do. You’ve always loved being an aunt, would do anything for her, so if it means you have to wake up early on a Thursday morning and take Layla to daycare— “I mean, I can stay home from work.”

Your sister, Rachel, sighs and you can picture her shaking her head, “No, Y/N, you’re already doing me the favor of dropping her off, you shouldn’t have to take the whole day. Rick or I will pick her up after…” She doesn’t quite finish. “After.”

You wince lightly, looking at the cross street before turning the corner. You catch Layla’s gaze, smiling as she holds onto her stuffed bunny. She’s dressed in overalls today, bright red puffer jacket to protect her from the cold weather. She’s playing with the ears of her stuffed bunny, smiling,

“Momma!”

A soft smirk tugs the corners of your mouth, “Yeah, talking to your mom.” You lean over and press a kiss to her forehead, which is mostly just hitting the fabric of her beanie. She’s adorably bundled up, her nose a soft pink from the wind whipping around the buildings.

“Alright, well,” You clear your throat, coming up to the daycare, “If you’re sure.”

“I am—she loves that place. The guy that runs it is really sweet, hires some of the best daycare providers I’ve met, and you know I like to do my research.”

You smile, something fond as you adjust Layla along your hip, “I know you do—I just got here, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Oh,” She interrupts before you can hang up, “Also, the guy who runs it? Very good looking.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, “Goodbye.”

She snickers, the tell-tale sign of the call ending by the following beeps.

--

You hover outside the daycare for a moment to slide your phone into your back pocket, your eyes skittering over the bright decorative paintings of Sesame Street characters holding welcoming signs and information—the arch above the doorway reads ‘BUTLER’S BABIES’. From what Rachel told you, the daycare actually specializes in newborns but will take any age up until five.

Glancing inside, you can see one large room that has a ton of toys, bean-bag chairs, one television playing cartoons and a few kids already milling around with some of the daycare hires. Letting out a breath, you push the door open and step inside, about to speak to someone in the gated area where the kids are but then someone comes out of the back, right to the counter.

“Hey,” He smiles and you kind of blink—not who you were expecting in the slightest to be at a place like this. Not that…not that men can’t be caretakers, of course, and you know a man owns this daycare but—

You shake your head, clearing dizzy thoughts. You just didn’t expect him to be…tall and incredibly handsome.

“Sorry, I hope you weren’t waiting long, didn’t hear the door open,” Then he smiles, recognizing the girl in your arms, “Hi Layla.” He gives her a soft wave and while Layla is usually shy around newer people, she brightens instantly at him—

“Bun!” She shows him her bunny.

“I know, I see you brought bun-bun today,” He grins, leaning against the counter, looking up at you, “Tea parties,” He says as if it’s matter of fact, “Bun-bun is always the guest of honor.”

A soft laugh escapes your chest and you set Layla down to take off her coat, “Oh of course, I’ve been to many of those,” You smile, removing her hat and fixing the wildness of her hair. You stand up and she holds onto your pants to remain upright.

“I can take that,” He says, holding his hand out to take Layla’s coat.

“Thanks, uh—”

“Austin,” He smiles, “You must be the sister, right? Rachel’s mentioned you before.”

I’m gonna kill her, “Yeah, that’s me—the sister. Y/N.”

Austin nods his head, his eyes brushing over you before he takes out a form for you to fill out. It seems to have simple information about you, best number for contact, things like that. Rachel’s already made you an approved person to pick Layla up if need be. You let out a slow breath and pick up a pen, trying not to watch Austin come out from behind the counter to greet Layla.

There’s really something about a handsome man with kids, especially when its clear he cares about them. He kneels down and talks to Layla about her bunny before offering his hand to her so he can walk her to the daycare room where the rest of the kids are. You fill out your information, giving Layla a wave when she turns to look at you.

Austin drops her off with a few other workers, who pull her into other conversations with kids that are already there. You linger at the counter, making sure she’s alright but…Layla is all smiles, showing other kids her bunny. A soft smile tugs the corners of your mouth, pushing the form back towards Austin when he gets back behind the counter.

“Will you be picking her up?”

“I don’t think so—I’m just drop off today.”

Austin smiles, glancing down at the form before filing it away, “Oh, well that’s a shame—I was hopin’ to talk to someone else who’s been part of these famous tea parties.”

It takes you a moment to realize that he’s flirting with you, a fluttering behind your ribcage like warm butterflies. It’s been a while for you, out of the dating game, not the best at picking up cues let alone carrying out other steps for yourself. But there’s something soft in the blue of Austin’s eyes, the easiness of his smile, the fact that he’s running a daycare.

“They are quite incredible, aren’t they?” You smile, “Though bun-bun uses far too much sugar, if you ask me.”

There’s a soft smirk, the recognition of an opening between you two and Austin steps right into it, “Oh it’s the biscuits for me—little bit of strawberry jelly.” At the crinkle of your nose, he laughs—it’s definitely a nice sound, “No?”

“I mean, you gotta go grape. Always.”

“I’ll remember that.” He smiles and your stomach does this flip-flop. There are actually a few seconds in which you wish you could linger but,

“I have to go uh, I don’t want to be late for work.” Austin nods, leaning back a bit as you turn but…before you get to the door, “Feel free to let me know how the tea party goes.” You motion towards the cabinet where he put your form, “That’s my cell number I wrote down.”

You can’t help but smile as you leave the daycare.

--

It only takes him to the afternoon to text you,

Austin: tea party was a disaster—out of sugar, jelly everywhere Austin: also you were right, grape is superior

A soft laugh leaves your lips as you leave work, making your way to the subway,

Y/N: I just really know biscuits

And then you take a leap that you’re not used to but…there’s nothing wrong with trying to take the first step, right? Especially after being out of the game for so long—

Y/N: would you like to get some sometime?

--

You meet Austin at the daycare and he’s held up by a set of parents who haven’t come to pick up a baby named Cooper, who he’s currently rocking in his arms, trying to get him to settle. You lean against the counter, a soft, amused smile on your lips.

“Sorry, he’s usually picked up by now,” Austin admits, shushing the baby gently as he adjusts him, “Should be just another twenty minutes or so.”

You shake your head, glancing into the daycare to see it’s empty for the day, some of the other workers cleaning up the space in preparation for the next morning. “No worries, I know the perfect place we can go—it’s open late.”

He hums, running his hand up and down the baby’s back, who’s calming slowly but surely. “And this place has biscuits?”

You grin, “I mean, there’s other things too but…they’re big and fluffy, buttery…perfect for jelly.” Your eyes fall to Cooper as he settles, begins to fall asleep against Austin’s chest—big oof. “So uh—what made you want a daycare?”

“This was actually my grandmother’s place but,” He looks down at Cooper, shifting from foot to foot, “She got sick and couldn’t maintain the business so, instead of selling I kinda just stepped in.”

Well that’s sweet, you didn’t expect that. “And changed the name?”

He smirks, “Yeah, it was ‘Berda’s Babies’ before…didn’t quite fit after I took it over.”

“Oh I dunno, you could look like a Berda to me.”

Austin chuckles lightly, raising his eyebrows before the door to the daycare opens. A set of parents come in, quickly apologizing for being late. Austin’s insistent that he doesn’t mind, gently waving them off before telling them he’ll see them tomorrow.

He grabs his coat, “Biscuits?”

You smile and nod, heading out with him.

--

Jacob’s Pickles actually specializes in, well, pickles, but they also make these incredible breakfast sandwiches with giant biscuits. It’s the best place to pick up said biscuits, biting into the fluffy pastry that crumbles perfectly. You secure a seat by a window, Austin taking another packet of grape jelly to tug open and spread across his biscuit.

“So, just curiously,” You say after a moment, “How is Layla doing?” Austin’s eyebrows draw together at the question and you give a little clarification, “My sister’s going through a divorce.”

You don’t expand but Austin nods, picking up his iced coffee to take a sip, “I figured somethin’ was going on with the unusual pick-ups and drop-offs, but Layla’s been great. She’s social, talks a lot, always smiling,” He shrugs, “Sometimes the kids we get cry often, which makes sense—new space, new faces, new schedule. Layla is never one of those kids.”

A soft smile tugs the corners of your mouth because that definitely sounds like your niece, she’s always been a happy child, you’d hate to think this messiness with her parents might somehow change her. Admittedly, you’re worried about it, you’re sure sooner or later it might disrupt Layla’s life—even if your sister is trying to end things amicably with her husband.

“What kind of work do you do?” Austin asks, steering the conversation, which you’re grateful for—you weren’t sure what else to say.

“I’m an editor for a children’s book company.”

He raises his eyebrows, “Really? You like that?”

You smile, “Uh yeah—I mean, I’ve been in it long enough that I’ve…kinda thought about writing my own.” You can tell by the look on his face that he wants you to continue, even nudges you with his foot underneath the table. You laugh slightly, “I’ve done this mock-up with an artist about a spider that doesn’t like to scare people.” You can’t help but laugh again, mostly out of embarrassment than amusement, “Like…all her friends like to.”

“That’s really cute,” The compliment makes your cheeks flush, “So why haven’t I seen it on bookshelves that I can buy for the daycare?”

Because I’m too afraid to put it out there, receive criticism, “Just…never got everything together,” You take a sip of your coffee, “You got any big dreams other than ‘Butler’s Babies’?”

“Acting,” He smile a little, “My mom used to take me to classes and auditions when I was little.”

“Well, it’s never too late.” You encourage, “Right?”

“Right,” He pauses a moment before picking up a half of his biscuit, “To it ‘never bein’ too late’.”

You realize he wants to cheers using biscuits and grin easily, picking up your half to gently tap against his.

--

The next time you drop Layla off, your niece is very insistent on you staying for a tea party. If it wasn’t for having a day off (and Austin’s blue eyes), you might have found the strength to decline. You’re seated on the floor in front of a pink tea playset, Austin across from you. You’re surrounded by other tea invites—bun-bun (of course), a Barbie, Ken who’s missing a shirt, a stuffed bear and two monster trucks (you try not to question those, but name them George and Marvin respectively).

“Can’t believe this is our second date,” Austin teases as Layla haphazardly pours them tea (you’re grateful the tea pot isn’t filled with water). “Things are movin’ pretty fast.”

You smirk, playfully taking a sip from your empty cup, “Need more sugar,” You tell Layla, and then to Austin— “Oh well, if you’re impressed now just wait until after the third date.”

“What happens then?”

“Guess you’ll have to see.” You smile, reaching for an imaginary biscuit.

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler x female reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler fic #elvis 2022 #mccall writes things

[lanitalay]

Before I Say Goodnight Chapter 14

A/n: I hope you all enjoy this one!!!!!!! I feel like I could end it in one chapter or in 10 :')

Warnings: canon typical mentions/depictions of injuries, mentions of a toxic relationship.

Word count: 2.6k

Other chapters

Steady steps fill the air as Eris walks down the main hall of the House of Wind. He had not expected to be welcomed here in light of recent events. 

“How is she?” He asks the shadowsinger posted outside a door, presumably hers.

“Stable” 

“Is she awake?” The spymaster shakes his head “Sometimes, never for long”. Eris purses his lips at that, those last few moments in the clearing flashing in his mind “can I see her?” Azriel nods once and opens the door behind him. Eris is certain that he will remain on the other side of the door and that his shadows will be watching closely. 

His breath catches in his throat when he sees her. In truth, he did not know what to expect. It had been days since that night and she had been given Feyre’s blood and a mix of power granted by two high lords, one high lady and one cauldron made fae. It was not something that had been documented before. He was relieved when she had opened her eyes in the clearing, but the white light that shot out of them had surprised him. She had been drained of her blood, kept in a dungeon for weeks, mauled by an ancient monster and struck by lightning. If he had to guess, she had done something to offend the Mother or another god. How does one come back from that? 

The dark circles under her eyes had softened. He noticed the new points of her ears poking out of her hair that laid strewn across soft looking pillows. The lightning had left her with scars that peaked out of her shirt and went to the base of her neck. The bolt forever reflected on her once porcelain skin. He couldn’t see her leg but was relieved to see two outlines beneath the sheets. From what he had seen, it would not have been surprising that a healer would have recommended amputation. Her cheeks looked fuller, that was a good sign. 

He stood there for a while, as she slept. There was so much guilt eating away at him for all of the things he had done during his father’s reign. Unspeakable and unforgivable things. He had tried to do some good, when he could guarantee that his father’s wrath would not be turned to him. He was brought out of his thoughts when she stirred. 

“You can’t be serious” she grumbles and Eris tenses “we are going to have to discuss boundaries”. Her eyes are open and she seems… fine. No pain, no grogginess, no anger. “What?” She yawns “everytime I open my eyes you're there, you were always at the Manor, in the dungeons and now my room? I think we need to talk about getting friends your own age”. Eris stays looking at her and she rolls her eyes “not you too”. He repeats himself “what?”. “I need normal conversation, everyone has been acting like I’m going to break if they look at me wrong and I hate it” he relaxes his stance but remains uncertain “you got demolished by three separate entities, you should be dead, forgive me if I am not in the mood to banter”. She goes to sit up but winces and lays back down “no”. Eris crosses his arms at his chest “no, what?” She throws a pillow at him “I won't forgive you not wanting to banter” he catches the pillow “I did not realize you were enthralled by my humor” he walks closer to her bed and places the pillow where it had been “are you aware of the watchdog at the door?” She scowls “don’t call him that. But yes” and yells “it’s a waste of your time Azriel, I’m fine!” 

A hint of a smile escapes Eris “you are the worst patient I’ve ever seen”. Now, she looks seriously pissed off “you try being bedridden for a week and see how you like it”. “You’ve been bed ridden?” She nods and grimaces “after everything went down the magic healed all my wounds but my leg was broken in so many different places and it healed all wrong. Madja has had to re-break and properly set the bones. They have not let me leave the bed”. A shiver runs down Eris’ back and just how brutal the attack had been. Any lighthearted energy having been sucked out of the room. “I wanted to apologize” she looks away from him and starts to pick at a loose string in the bedsheets and interrupts him “don’t”. He goes on “I have to, it was my father who got you into this whole mess and I could have done so much more to prevent it or to get you out sooner. I should have killed him years ago but I never had the courage and-” she held up her hand “Eris, please don’t”. He took a step closer “and I’m sorry you got hurt and tortured and I just stood by” she would not look at him but asked “did you notice that the bargain marks vanished?” He nodded. She took a breath and said “you kept your promise. I’m out. You never owed me any kindness. We were never even friends” that stung. “You deserved better” she made knots to the string she was fidgeting with “I hate when people talk like that, you can’t change what happened or what you did or didn’t do”. He took one more step “I think it's fair to lament what happened” she looked up and met his gaze “I think it's useless”. He could have flinched at the venom in her voice, but stood still when clouds and bolts of silver amassed in her eyes. She closed her eyes, breathed deep and said “let’s talk about something else” when she opened her eyes again, the storm was gone. Before he could think of what to say the door opened and Madja walked in, followed by Azriel. 

“Good morning y/n, how are you feeling?” The healer asked while opening up her bag of bandages and tonics. “I’m fine, the leg is a little sore” Madja hummed and said “well we have the last procedure today. If all goes well you’ll be able to walk around in a few days”. Y/n smiled at the news “really?” Madja nodded “alright, I will need any visitors to say their goodbyes now” she searched through her bag for something and Eris took his cue to leave. But before he did said “I will be back in a few days”. 

Azriel stood at the door throughout every procedure. His stomach churning every time he heard crunching or snapping coming from inside. She had been put to sleep again. Madja was done in less than an hour. 

He waited by her bedside until she woke up. After the procedures she would wake up in pain and he would be there to give her the tonic Madja had prepared. “That never gets easier to get down” she gagged at the foul taste of the concoction. “I know, it does not taste good”. He remembers all of the times he’s been hurt and forced to drink it. “You’re done though, Madja said everything went perfect. You can try to walk tomorrow” she let out a sigh “thank God”. Azriel chuckled “here, Elain made you soup” and helped you sit up so you could eat. 

“So what are you going to do?” Nesta asked, interrupting a very interesting scene in the book you were reading. She was keeping you company while Azriel was at a meeting in the River House.  “About?” She closed her book. Oh lord. “About Azriel and Eris”. You frown “I’m still lost” she leaned closer “are you going to choose?” Now you scowled “I don’t know why I would choose between two friends” Nesta rolled her eyes. “Don’t be coy, y/n” you cross your arms, defensive “I am not being coy, I am not thinking of my love life at all”. Now, she leans back and says nonchalantly “Gwyn has been dying to ask Azriel out”. Your eyes widen and you curse at how those words irked you just how Nesta wanted them to. “Gwyn does not want to go out with Az” Nesta raised a sharp brow “she used to, but since you came into the picture she’s lost interest”. You huff “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that Azriel only has eyes for one person but that person seems to be undecided” 

“Why do I have to make a choice now?” 

“You don’t have to, I was just curious”.

“I barely know either of them”.

“You know them well enough to know how you feel” 

“It’s not that simple” your voice quivers and Nesta’s expression softens.

“It seems simple to me”

“It’s not. I hate talking about it but I used to be engaged to a man, back in my world. He was not kind to me. But I stayed far longer than I should have because everyone in my life kept telling me that I had to, that I should. I also had a complicated relationship with my mother. She was very… controlling”. You got lost as you remembered how she would manipulate you “Anyway, it feels that all my life I have never made a choice for myself. The only true choices I have made was leaving him, traveling and then working at the apothecary. Everything else was either orchestrated by my mother or predetermined by fate. The portal being open, Lucien finding me, meeting Azriel, meeting Eris and now I am not even human anymore”. A wave of pain floods your chest at the reminder of your stolen mortality. “I just… as much as I might like Azriel I need to heal, in more ways than one”. 

Nesta nodded “I’m sorry for everything. I understand feeling like things just happen to you without you having a say in the matter” the way her eyes darkened you knew she had also gone through something similar. You could recall from what Mor had told you that she had been made against her will and that she had a… destructive way of dealing with the trauma. “I love Cassian, he’s my mate but a part of me will always wonder about the mortal life I could have had or what I would have done if they had not locked me in this house. So I’m sorry for prying and pressuring you. I should have known better” tears are gathering in your eyes. She gets out of her chair, sits in front of you on the bed and pulls you into a hug. “I don’t know what to do,” you say, voice quiet. “Just focus on healing”. 

The following day was better, you could finally stand and walk around. 

The day after that was great, Madja said you could resume your usual activities as long as you did not put too much stress on the leg. 

The following week she gave you the all clear that everything was perfect. Azriel was with you  every day. Eris came to visit and was relieved to see you in better spirits and mobile again. Lucien had brought you gifts that Muriel, Jurian and Vassa had sent along. He told you that Muriel thought you had been sick all along and she had sent so many tonics and salves in hopes that you'd get better.Your heart warmed. It broke a little, too. Going back to the Human Lands was not an option now and that stung. 

You were at the River House for a visit when Feyre asked you what you wanted to do now. “I have no idea, but I need to get out of the House of Wind”. Feyre furrowed her brows “why? Did something happen?” You shake your head “no, no, it's just that I feel bad asking to be winnowed or flown all the time and during the day nobody is really in the house and it gets lonely”. She thinks for a moment “you could stay at the town house if you want”. You raise a brow “town house?” She nods “we used to live there but the family grew so much we needed a bigger place. I don’t think anybody is using it now… so you could move there if you like”. That sounded perfect “yes, I would love that”. Feyre smiled “that’s perfect! You’d be so close you could walk here”. 

“How will I ever repay you?” It was a sincere question, they had been keeping you alive since Lucien found you and you had no money for rent or anything. “You don’t owe us anything, you’re part of our family now” you hated how that scared you. “Seriously Feyre, is there a job I could do or something?” She shook her head “Nope, you will move to the town house and continue to heal. I think you could train with an apothecary here or even with Madja if you’re interested”. She went on to list every apothecary in town and how they would never say no if the High Lady asked them for a favor. 

A knock startled you “come in”. “How was your day?” Azriel asks and closes the door behind him. He stays in place as he sees that you are packing up your clothes into boxes. “What are you doing” you look up at him “I was at the River House today and Feyre said I could move into the town house”. 

“Oh”

“I was just telling her how it gets lonely here when all of you are gone and how I’d be more comfortable in Velaris rather than above it” 

“When are you leaving?” 

“Tomorrow” 

He didn’t reveal any emotion but you knew he was hurt. “She said there are several rooms… you could come with me, if you want” he shifted his stance, hands behind his back, wings tight. “Do you want me to go with you?” You reply “I don’t really want to live alone” he shakes his head. “Do you want me to go with you?” Yes, you wanted to scream. You wanted to shout and hug him and apologize for not asking him first and that he found out like this. You wanted to kiss away his frown until he was smiling. But you stood there not saying anything. 

“Y/n”

“Yes” you step closer to him “I want you to come with me” you falter. Heart beating faster, hating the vulnerability. His hands come to his sides “are you sure?” You mentally curse him “yes, I’m sure”. You are standing a foot away from him. So close you can see a glimmer of something in his eye when you finish talking. “But I have to be honest with you” the glimmer disappears “Az, I…” A lump forms in your throat and you can’t get the words out. “I like you, ok? I like you a lot and I think you like me too but-” 

He cuts you off  “I do” 

The lump gets bigger “but I can’t promise you anything other than friendship right now… I hope you can understand that” 

He steps closer and your breath falters. He is so close. You want to reach up and just touch him. He grabs your hands and says “I’d wait any amount of time for you. You have my friendship, always”. His gentleness overwhelms you and tears well up. You groan “I feel like I’m always crying” he smiles and wipes away a few stray drops. You inhale “so you’ll come with me?” He nods and you want nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and kiss him. 

Azriel laid in his bed feeling lighter than he had in years. She likes me. 

Her words were a breath of fresh air, a cool summer breeze, a shimmering night sky. She likes me. 

He could not stop replaying the moment. She likes me. 

That night, he prayed that the fullness in his chest was something more than infatuation.

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