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flem17ng · 4 months

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Oblivious: Mapi Leon x reader

note: this is for the anon who asked for mapi leon fic! I hope it’s what you had in mind xx

Summary: Reader is absolutely infatuated with mapi and she has no idea. Luckily some friends decide to help out.

content: mild age gap but not really

word count: 1.4k

“do the drill y/n! you can drool over leon later!” Patri sighed as she watched you, yet again, get distracted by the older player. This had been happening more and more frequently: everyday it seemed you were found gazing at Mapi from across the field. today was no different as you watched her sprint forward, tap the ball with her toe into the air and volley it across the field.

clàudia slapped your arm with a grin.

“one of these days she’s going to notice how in love with her you are hermana”

“shut up” you grumbled, turning back to the drill. It was true that you made it pretty obvious. It seemed like the whole team knew about your crush on mapi except mapi. It’s not like you had a chance anyway! she was older than you, more experienced and probably the single most attractive woman you had ever seen. So yeah, you didn’t think you really stood a chance.

“don’t be silly Pina, we both know Mapi wouldn’t recognise y/n’s crush if it slapped her in the face” Patri laughed with a shake of the head.

“can we change the conversation please” you whined suddenly finding the drill a lot more interesting than before

“change what conversation?”

You whipped around only to find yourself face to face with the very girl you’d been looking at only seconds before. Mapi smiled at you (a sweet lopsided grin that made your heart speed up).

“oh nothing! Just y/n and her big, ga-“

“my dead grandma” you almost shouted causing a few people to look at you in confusion. Mapi raised her eyebrows.

“we where talking about my very dead grandma! that’s all!” you gave Patri a stern stare.

“oh…” Mapi looked between you and the two other girls. “oh i’m sorry I didn’t know. um… well it’s water break now” Mapi backed away a few steps before turning and walking towards the drink bottles.

“y/n what the fuck” Clàudia muttered. You looked at her, mortified. you needed to pull yourself together.

***

It took you a whole 2 days to embarrass yourself even further. So maybe you weren’t able to pull yourself together like you told yourself you would.

The game was a stunner. 9-1 to Barcelona. It was no secret that Mapi was the most valuable player on the pitch that day either. She was everywhere she needed to be. The final goal was something you knew you would never forget: Playing attacking mid, you raced into open space managing to lose your marker just as you neared the box, a second later you could see Mapi weave past the opposing striker and boot the ball towards you. Time slowed down as you jumped, letting the ball hit the top of your head, giving it the slight redirection it needed to skid into the top corner of the goal.

You wasted no time turning at running towards the tattooed defender who’d assisted you. Her smile in the moment was better than the whole crowds cheering put together. When you crashed into her with a hug, you didn’t even think before kissing her cheek.

“Mapi! I did it! I swear I could kiss yo-“ you cut yourself off when you saw Mapi’s eyes go wide. The awkward silence didn’t last long as the team descended on you both with loud cheers and slaps on the back.

***

“you what!!” yelled Patri when you where safely in the car home.

“don’t make me say it again” you groaned, sinking further into your seat, covering your violently pink cheeks with your palms.

“no i’m going to make you say that again! You said you could kiss her? Jesus y/n!”

Patri shook her head while Clàudia laughed from the backseat.

“what did she do!” Pina laughed, clearly finding your embarrassment very amusing.

“she just stared at me! god she’s going to think i’m a freak” you sighed. You could brush it off as heat of the moment, but you know it wasn’t. You could kiss her. Hell you wanted to, everyday you wanted too.

“you guys are friends! she’s not going to think you’re a freak” Patri laughed

You just sunk further into the leather of the car seat, hoping it would swallow you up.

***

Mapi was pacing the change-room the next day after training. The thought had been grating on her mind all day. Ever since you avoided her in the car park that morning. Usually you arrived at similar times, chatted about your morning, music, life, but that morning you had parked as close to the building as possible and practically ran inside at the sight of the older player.

Mapi had shrugged it off but then during training you seemed to be making a visible effort to avoid her. It made her gut twist to think you were upset with her. hell, it made her feel sick to think you were upset at all but no one needed to know that.

“god it’s just painful to watch at this point” Patri groaned to Alexia as she entered the change-room, only to stop short when she saw Mapi staring at her.

“hey Mapi! I thought you would have gone home by now” Alexia smiled, much better at playing a poker face than Patri.

“oh uh, no. I wanted to check on Y/n” she muttered.

Patri smirked, “oh and whys that?” Alexia slapped her arm to be quiet.

“she just seemed weird today. Like she avoiding me or something” Mapi groaned. It was weird seemed her like this, so unlike her usual bubbly self.

“you really have no idea?” Alexia asked. Not teasing, but a genuine, gentle question

“no idea about what?”

“she likes you Mapi! she has for a long time. If she’s acting weird around you maybe it’s because she’s losing hope.” Patri explained, watching mapis mouth fall open into a little ‘o’.

“i didn’t realise” she whispered. Inside she could feel her heart speeding up like a kid. she smiled excitedly, “she really likes me?”

“oh god your oblivious sometimes leon” Alexia laughed.

***

Anger couldn’t even begin to describe how you felt when she told you. embarrassment, mortification, rage. You didn’t even have the energy to yell at her when you got the text from Patri telling you that she had told Mapi about your feelings. You simply sent a text to your coach telling him you were sick, locked your phone and cried.

You knew people would try to get in touch with you, hell some even tried calling your landline but you ignored it all.

How could you show your face at training again?

after a day or so you unlocked your phone.

4 missed calls from patri, 3 from alexia, a large paragraph from clàudia and-

one text from Mapi Leon.

You tapped the notification.

today, 10 mins ago.

mapi 🦁: I wanted to kiss you too.

You almost dropped your phone when you read it. and then you re-read it. and then you really did drop your phone when a loud knock came from the front door.

“please y/n. It’s me” you heard her voice float through the hallway. Her tone was pleading and you could picture her expression: soft but with a wrinkle in her brow that only appeared when she was worried or upset.

When the door opened, she stepped inside without hesitation.

“y/n” she said breathlessly. Her cheeks were pink as if she’d been running and, just as you had imagined, her brow was crinkled with worry.

“mapi? how did you-“

she cut you off with her lips, cradling your cheek with her hand causing you to gasp.

she pulled back, looking from your eyes to your lips for permission to kiss you again.

“Mapi…”

“i’m sorry i didn’t realise sooner. I’m an idiot i know”

You smiled at her and shook your head, finally giving in and reaching up to smooth her worry lines.

“just kiss me again león” you laughed. and she did just that. Pulling you closer by your waist and kissing you deeply right there on your doorstep.

Maybe you were an idiot, maybe she was oblivious, but hell she was a good kisser.

shit, You needed to thank Patri.

#mapi leon #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon imagine #barca femeni #woso x reader

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justrustandstardust · 13 days

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it's established that gojo's blindfold is a hallmark of his character. it's understood that the blindfold keeps things out; however, i also think there's something to be said about how it also keeps things in. despite the fact that there's already a lot of discourse regarding his blindfold, i think there's more to it than meets the eye (or doesn't, in the case of gojo).

this is going to be somewhat of a long post, but i promise that if you stick around, the end will make the journey worth it.

(this analysis is the lovechild of mine and @chiarrara, whose sexy big brain sponsored this whole thing).

as a character, gojo is unknowable without his eyes. it's very much proposed that gojo is his eyes; he's even repeatedly referred to as "the six-eyes brat". he's the strongest, and his eyes embody that status/symbol/role in the narrative. his eyes and his character are so intertwined that they almost become the same thing.

we are repeatedly reminded of his eyes throughout the story; they are perhaps his most distinct and identifiable feature. when we're shown the progression of gojo's life from birth to adolescence, we only see his eyes.

during this scene when toji is remebering him, he repeatedly refers to him as the "six-eyes brat". he is his eyes, and nothing else. that's the only thing that toji knows about him because to the jujutsu world, that's all he is.

however, when he's a teenager, although his eyes are more present than we've ever seen them throughout the series, they're noticeably un-glorified. they're undeniably present but they're unremarkable.

they're less symbols of his power and more what they are, which are just eyes. we see glimpses of his eyes so often that we almost forget that they're special, until he steps into his role as the strongest and reminds us of them.

it's important to note that what sets the depiction of his eyes apart here (versus when he's an adult) is the presence of geto. if you comb through every single scene with geto in hidden inventory, you will find that gojo's eyes are not the focal point of his character. they're backgrounded features; his eyes are either half-hidden or entirely obscured by his shades, and they rarely glow.

his eyes make themselves known when geto is absent, like during gojo's fight with toji. in these moments, he is the strongest, invariably leaving room for nothing else. the only exception to this rule is when he's carrying riko's body, in which his eyes glow when he toes the line between human nature and godlike power. if we understand his eyes to be conduits of his power, then their noticeable downplaying can be understood as gojo leaving behind his title as the strongest and stepping into his humanity.

when geto breaks up with gojo, his eyes are not only uncovered, they're un-emphasized. they're perhaps the dullest we've ever seen them, and their distinct, eye-catching blue is swallowed by the whites surrounding his irises. his strength and power don't matter in this moment, and his eyes reflect that. when he's losing geto, he is not the strongest; he is purely gojo satoru.

the emphasis on his eyes in his youth makes their absence in his adulthood even more stark. we rarely see his eyes now, and it's only in the direst of circumstances.

everyone is familiar with the dictum '"the eyes are the window to the soul", which is true: eyes let people see into us. however, they function both ways; like a two-way mirror, they also let us see the world. eyes let people look in, but they also let their beholder look out.

there's a reason gojo only put on the blindfold after geto left. why didn't he wear it from the start? why did he start wearing it at all? all the credit to @hijinks-n-lowjinks for their masterful analysis that inspired this idea, which is as follows:

"....Gojo wants nothing more than to leave the memory of Geto unscathed....There's still a part of Geto's memory that's untarnished if he keeps it private instead of exposing the depth of Geto's crimes to the students, and I think that's what he's clinging onto."

gojo wears the blindfold for two reasons: one, to keep people out, and two, to keep geto in.

in donning the blindfold, gojo seals geto in his mind and simultaneously seals himself off from the world. he holds geto inside of himself, rendering him (or gojo's construction of him) untouchable by anyone else. in order to achieve this, however, the practice necessitates that gojo keeps everyone else out, because they belong to a world without geto that gojo literally and figuratively refuses to see. the wall functions like eyes: twofold, both keeping in and keeping out.

geto can be understood as gojo's blindfold: he is the reason it exists and why gojo put it on the first place. the blindfold is an intractable element in how he (doesn't) navigate the world without geto, because geto's departure from his life catalyzed his withdrawal from the world, which is symbolized through the blindfold.

when geto was in his life, gojo let the world in because it had geto in it. after geto left, he wasn't there for gojo's eyes to find. the permanent blindfold operates like schrödinger's cat— instead of seeing a world without geto, gojo simply chooses to stop seeing.

it's worth noting that the literal barrier pairs with the figurative barrier gojo puts up, which is in his disposition.

there's a reason that gojo's cocky, lighthearted persona comes out when he's wearing the blindfold. it's a figurative barrier that matches the literal one. like i said before, we only see his eyes in the direst of circumstances, and his goofy, cocksure demeanour is notably absent from these instances. i'm not saying it's fake, but the persona is a front, designed to keep people at a distance. he plays it up, and it feels even more distant because we can't see his eyes.

however, gojo isn't the only person with a barrier.

after the breakup, we never see geto wear casual clothes. we always see him in his cult leader outfit, which is distinct and elaborate. geto knows it's a costume, evidenced by the way he even says it himself when someone asks why he's wearing the cult getup:

we also see a notable shift in his persona, to a crazed and almost manic disposition that contrasts starkly with the gentle, kind nature he had in his youth. geto's literal barrier is found in his cult outfit, whereas his figurative one is in his disposition. although they present differently, gojo and geto's literal and figurative barriers mechanize the same modes of expression that seem to be at odds with one another.

gojo’s disposition is designed to counteract the loneliness that shapes his character (a loneliness that geto abetted in being his companion) and geto’s disposition is designed to push people away, because he decided no one could understand him (a role which was previously fulfilled by gojo).

gojo can read geto in a way that no one else can, and geto is gojo's counterpart in a way that no one else can be— they’re missing something only the other can provide and compensating with two dispositions at opposite ends of the emotional spectrum.

when geto is dying, gojo drops the literal and figurative mask. he's almost unrecognizable; he's not laughing, he's not smiling, and he's not wearing the blindfold, because he doesn't need it anymore. the only person he wants to see, the only person he's ever wanted to see, is in front of him now.

however, once again, he's not only one whose walls have come down.

geto drops the manic persona (although he retains the ideals) and he gently smiles in a way that's reminiscent of his youth. his cult leader outfit is also falling off, exposing him in more ways than one. he admits that he never had any hate for anyone at jujutsu tech, and in doing so, materializes the version of himself that lived in gojo's mind for a decade. that's why gojo doesn't bother with the blindfold; the geto in his mind and the geto in front of him are congruous and he's looking at the person he's been seeing inside his head all along.

it's been established that we don't know what gojo says to geto. however, it is also absolutely key that we don't see gojo's eyes in this deeply intimate moment. his eyes, which are inextricably linked to his strength and his role. his eyes, which are the medium through which he limits his engagement with the world. his eyes, which he sealed after geto left and only brings out when he's tasked with fulfilling his role.

in this moment, he considers the question geto asked him during the breakup. "are you gojo satoru because you're the strongest? or are you the strongest because you're gojo satoru?"

and in shielding his eyes from us, gojo answers him.

"i'm gojo satoru because of you, suguru."

his eyes, as the windows to the soul and witnesses to the world, are looking at geto suguru not as the strongest but as gojo satoru, and they are meant for geto alone. yes, the eyes are the windows to the soul but they're also two-way mirror— gojo opens his eyes for geto to look into his soul because the material manifestation of his soul is dying in front of him right now. in baring his eyes, he bares his soul.

before geto dies, we see him the same way gojo does. he seems bashful, almost shy, even mirthful; all traits that are antithetical to the crazed front he put up earlier. conversely, gojo is the most solemn we've ever seen him. in this moment, we see them both for who they really are, because they literally and figuratively only reveal themselves to each other.

after they part ways in shinjuku, geto and gojo embody the same barriers through identical mechanisms: fabric and persona. these barriers function to do the same thing, which is to keep people at a distance in order to leave space for the one person noticeably absent from their lives. it's very fitting that their walls come down as they meet for the last time, because the only people who could've torn them down are the same people for whom they put them up in the first place— nobody else but each other.

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lily-174 · 2 months

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Saw you in the Jay Halstead x Reader tag! I was hoping you could do one where Jay is dating a black belt, and he keeps forgetting she can take care of herself bc she's been training for many years. Maybe she gets kidnapped, but escapes on her own? Thank you if you do! No problem if you don't! Have a good day 😊 💛

you picked the wrong girl- Jay halstead x reader

AN: well, I’m back… sorry I’ve been gone for so long guys. But I hope you enjoy this, and If you’ve read fics from me before. I hope you like the change in writing style.. I’d love to hear what you think (I did write the at 1am tho and didn’t proofread)

trigger warnings: Angst, Assault, kidnapping, mention of endo

“yeah jay i’ll come over when i finish my shift tomorrow” you held your phone up to your ear, bag on the opposite shoulder as you left your apartment building.

“alright babe. be safe okay?” Jay, your boyfriend of 3 years spoke through the phone. A smile on your face as you thought of seeing him after your shift at firehouse 51.

“you too” you smiled before ending the call, shoving your phone into your back pocket as you began walking to your car. You and jay had met while serving in afghanistan yet had reconnected almost 6 years later after you started working back in chicago and got a job at firehouse 51 through your friend clark and everyone at 51 has quickly become your family.

As you approached your car you scrolled through your phone looking to message your best friend Gabriella Dawson to let her know you’re on your way to work. The two of you usually spend the start of your shift gossiping, it’s something you’ve grown to love. Especially when it comes to girl talks in a firehouse full of men. God just the memories of the boys faces—specifically cruz— when they walk in on a conversation about something they don’t want to know makes you laugh. Like the time you had cruz walk in on you talking to gabby about the horrendous side affects of your condition Endometriosis. Which you only got diagnosed with two years ago, and luckily it wasn’t completely debilitating for you as it was for a lot of women.

When you’d been diagnosed you were terrified of telling anyone, even Jay. But after hundreds of conversations with Gabby and Jay—who were both unapologetically supportive—it no longer bothered you and you’d come to the conclusion you’d rather talk about it and educate people on the subject rather than hide from it.

Shooting Gabby a quick text that read: ‘On way now. Got so much to tell you about the CPD party’

You smiled to yourself watching the three dots pop up signifying gabby was messaging you back. You and Gabby had almost no shame when it came to your conversations, so much so that you were sure you knew more about Gabby and Casey’s sex life than Casey did himself, and vice versa for Gabby and Jay. You knew Gabby had something to tell you too as she’d insinuated as such on the phone last night. And boy, did you have something to tell her too. The sex you’d had with Jay after that CPD party had been extraordinary, easily in your top 5 sexual experience—all of which had been with Jay. He was amazing, and with the strain and pain endometriosis puts on a woman’s sex life Jay had been so understanding and patient. He’d made sex something unimaginable.

‘Can’t wait. I have news too. 🫢’ Gabby replied. You smile as you reach your car pocketing your phone and pulling out your car keys. Just as you go to press the button on your keys to unlock your car what feels like a violent slam of bricks hits your head. Pain slices through your body, shaking your bones, starting from your skull and travelling all the way down to your toes. the pain is sharp, cold. So cold that black dots dance across your vision. You can’t process anything, every thought, every instinct you have fails under the pulsing pain in your skull as everything turns black.

Pain shatters the darkness enveloping you, cold air hitting the wetness coating your hair sending a shiver down your spine. Fear claws at you, digging into your flesh, pulling and tugging at your stomach acid just as the hands are. The hands? Pain and panic interlock as everything clicks. Hands. Gripping your waist dragging you across a stony path. Darkness, not the same as before, not the dark pain that had taken you hostage but the sun leaving you, leaving you vulnerable with your captor.

It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness. Yet, when they do adrenaline takes ahold of you. Forcing the old you, the soldier to take over. Power floods your veins as soon as your eyes meet the evil ones of your kidnapper.

Where’s jay? Does anyone even know you’re gone? How long have you been gone?

Questions you won’t let linger stab you. And your limbs fill with strength, adrenaline. You pull your elbow back before forcing it into your captors ribs with every ounce of strength you can, ignoring the pain, ignoring everything. You refuse to be a photo on Intelligence’s evidence board.

Your captor grunts, weakening his grip on your as he stumbles unprepared. He quickly recovers, lunging forward aiming to take you down with his fists. You don’t let him. Your lungs clench, heart pounding as if a stampede lives beneath your ribs as everything you’ve been taught everything you’ve learnt and everything that’s ever made you feel powerful rushes through your veins. Army training, Boxing, karate, kickboxing.

You dodge his attempted assault and quickly throw a balled fist toward his jaw, and it connects with enough force to break a knuckle. You move quickly, precise like you’ve got forever to calculate his next move. But you don’t. It’s the adrenaline, rushes through your veins giving you enough energy for the final push. With another firm punch he stumbles, and in the next moment you land a hard kick to his most precious area. He falls, losing his balance and stumbling with a pained groan.

Run. You barely process your next movements as your legs carry you, each step shakier than the last as you take your chance, sprinting away. Your lungs burn, your skin igniting against the harsh chicago wind. You don’t even know where you are but you keep running, running, hoping to find something familiar. Some landmark, somewhere you know, someone you know.

Your body weakens, you feel as if you’re your legs will fail at any moment as you push on. The wind brushing against your tear stained cheeks leaving a chill in its wake.

95th and Trent. The familiar street sends the final wave of adrenaline through your body. You don’t stop running, you can’t. Not until your safe. You don’t know how long you’ve been running for, how long you’ve been missing. But when you reach the familiar 21st district it almost feels as if your heart stopped. Racing up the front steps you barrel through the door. Panicked, irrational, exhausted.

Trudy Platts panicked eyes meet yours and a wave of comfort makes your eyes well up. She rushes out from behind her desk ordering a officer away, “Get Halstead. And call a damn Ambulance and 51. Tell em we’ve got her.” She bites out before rushing towards you and taking you into her arms.

As soon as the warmth that is trudy Platt touches you, your heart cracks. Almost loud enough your worried it could’ve been heard from miles away. Tears poor from your eyes and you clutch onto her uniform as the adrenaline dissipates.

“Baby” A distraught familiar voice takes you by the hands guiding you home. His arms, his smell. You’re home, you’re safe. Jay takes you in his arms, tightly. Letting all of his worry and anger seep from him in the form of your touch.

“Are you okay? Y/n, I was trying to find you. I was gonna find you baby.” He whispers as your claw at his muscular frame. “You’re safe, I’ve got you” he whispers, his voice only causing the crack in your chest to grow. A crack that only he can fix, now that you’re home.

#chicago pd #chicago pd imagine #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead imagine #chicago fire #jay halstead fluff #i love jay halstead #jay halstead oneshot #jay halstead smut #jay halstead #chicago pd x reader #one chicago fic #one chicago fanfiction #one chicago imagine #one chicago x reader #one chicago #chicago fire x reader #chicago fire imagine #chicago fire fic

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boiohboii · 10 months

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The trophy boyfriend pt5.

In which Daniel Ricciardo and Kim YN are not done surprising the fans

In which Kim YN and her husband, Daniel Ricciardo allow the public to know of their children through media outlets

N.B: this is just something small I did for the fun of it tbh, hope you like it. And as always don't focus too much on the dates, they make no sense

PART 4

Liked by Danielricciardo, KimJeonwoo, and 1.3m other people.

Landonorris: my niece and nephew at the same age, 2 years apart.

Charles_leclerc: where is my godson 🤨

username: THEY HAVE A THIRD KID!

ussrname: well, obviously, Kim Jeonwoo was seen carrying a literal baby, these two can walk

ussrname: THESE TWO? pls, they are YN'S CHILDREN, PUT SOME RESPECT ON THEIR NAME

username: speaking of names, do you think they have korean or white names? Is it like korean first name and white second name?

username: I think they have both, like a lot of korean-mixed couples give 2 names for their children, however what i am curious about is the last name

username: ARE WE IGNORING THE FACT THAT CHARLES IS A GOD FATHER!! TO THE BABY OF THE KIM RICCIARDO FAMILY!!

Carlossainz55: my god daughter is the cutest 😍 also, why didn't you help her, can't you see her standing on her tippy toes to reach, do you want her to fall?!!

landonorris: shut up! You know it's making your heart melt, she looks so adorable trying to reach for stuff

carlossainz55: I see you have gotten braver over the break 😒

landonorris: no, it was just a spur of the moment thing, don't lock me in the bathroom again

danielricciardo: why have you not sent me these pictures!

landonorris: I have an entire album just dedicated to your kids, your phone literally has no storage!

danielricciardo: fine, I'll just give you my hard drive tomorrow to put a copy of every picture you have

landonorris: what do you mean tomorrow? I AM LITERALLY IN A DIFFERENT COUNTRY!

danielricciardo: yes, ik! The kids miss you and yn and I could use a babysitter

username: GOD I AM NOT OKAY

username: THE KIM RICCIARDO CHILDREN!

username: BABY GIRL KIM RICCIARDO HAS A GREAT FUCKING FASHION SENSE

username: it's so annoying that people are all like Kim- ricciardo, you can just say ricciardo I don't see the point of placing her family name first.

username: bitch pls, Daniel Ricciardo is the trophy husband here.

username: It's the Kim family's world and we all just live in it

username: YN KIM IS AN ICON, A LEGEND AND SHE IS THE MOMENT.

username: girl, they eating you up in the replies

username: oh to be a fly on the Kim Ricciardo House wall

username: SO ARE WE JUST NEVER GOING TO GET THE WEDDING PHOTOS

username: I honestly think that Daniel and YN filter all and every news that comes out about their family, like they hid their relationship for years and then no pictures of their wedding and no news of them until they felt it was okay to let the public know of their kids

username: well, yeah, that's the power of a chaebol.

username: I find it laughable that some people think that Yn and Daniel couldn't have hidden everything about themselves. Babes, YN and her family own like 40% of Seoul alone- and that's just their business in Seoul, let's not forget that they have international businesses- if they don't want you to know something you won't know it.

username: also the fact that they literally have family connections in politics and news outlets

username: I want to be their parent so bad but at the same time I want to be them! 😫

#f1 instagram au #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 social media au #f1 smau #f1 #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x oc #daniel ricciardo parent au #carlos sainz social media au #sainz family #dad daniel ricciardo #korean oc

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sea-salted-wolverine · 2 months

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In honor of the moose/Iditarod rule 34 chaos post reaching 1000 notes and then Dallas Seavy winning the Iditarod here are all the unhinged stories and things I know about that race

They changed the rules and schedules so you can't do this anymore, but there was a subset of mushers who would race the Yukon Quest and the Iditarod back to back. That's a 1000-mile race followed by another 1000-mile race through some of the harshest terrain on earth in late winter. And the Yukon quest doesn't even finish where the Iditarod starts. To do this required putting dogs in a plane OR having another team of dogs waiting in anchorage and someone to deal with both teams of dogs.

The first woman to win the Iditarod was Libby Riddles in 1985.

Only to have her finish promptly blown out of the water by Susan Butcher who won the race in 86', 87', 88', and 90' while setting speed records the whole way.

Susan did race in 85' but she ran into a moose early and it killed two of her dogs and hurt the rest so she scratched. Dallas got lucky this year.

She was also the first person to mush a dog team up to the summit of Denali, the tallest mountain in North America. This is not what dog teams are intended to do, I don't know why she even wanted to, other than to prove it was possible. I don't think anyone has since.

The race now requires GPS trackers on all the racers and you would not believe the bitchfit everyone threw over those. Mushers can either hop between checkpoints or camp on the trail and it may surprise you to learn that these are the kind of people who have secret camp spots in the woods that they don't want anyone to know about. So now, everyone has acquiesced to the tracker requirement but you must have an account on the race website if you want to see them.

The race has 2 paths that alternate even and odd years with different checkpoints but every year includes a section of race that crosses the sea ice, approximately 50 miles from Shaktoolik to Koyuk. so forget landmarks. point the sled north and hope you're going the right way.

the race is in honor of the 1925 Serum Run and the diphtheria outbreak, but the trail itself is the old freight route which is almost twice the length. also, it's a freight route for hauling freight which means the the racers are going at more or less lightspeed as compared to the intended use.

the most effective way to avoid frostbite on your face is a fur hood and duct tape on your cheeks and nose. Cold-related injuries are rare but far from unheard of. The average number of toes and fingertips among mushers is lower than that of the general population.

The finish line is a massive burled arch in the middle of main street in Nome. There is not a lot going on in Nome at any given time and this time of year is the exception. Every racer who finishes the race gets the same reception, which is everyone in town crowding into the finish chute to cheer them on and the city fire siren going off. The last racer in gets the Red Lantern Award which means that they finished dead last but didn't scratch.

the 2020 race had started and was fully underway when the pandemic lockdowns came into place. as far as social distancing goes, you really can't do much better than being isolated 100 miles into the middle of frozen nowhere but the checkpoints are itty bitty villages with no medical infrastructure and the finish was reportedly terrifying because instead of a crowd to cheer at the burled arch, it was just the siren going off in a ghost town.

there is no way I can tell this story that doesn't sound like I'm making it up as I go. The sign says no sniveling and they fucking mean it.

no really, click that link. here's the YouTube vid (non-graphic, after-the-fact interviews)

#from the far north #wolverine warbles #iditarod #dog mushing #alaska

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hxney-lemcn · 2 months

Text

Choking on Flowers — Abyss Razor x gn! reader

summery: your relationship with Abyss grows, but you hadn't expected him to take it so far so soon.

tw: hurt/comfort, Abyss having low self esteem :(

a/n: I tried to make this funny, and then it turned into hurt/comfort, and then it ended on crack. I think that makes it better tbh.

wc: 1.6k

Master List | Part One | Part Two | Part Three

[This can be read as stand alone but I do recommend reading the other one first]

At first, you were excited that Abyss had invited you to a supposed party. He explained how there weren’t going to be a ton of people, which soothed you, but when he mentioned that it was being held in the Alder dormitories your apprehension grew. You agreed anyways, not letting an excuse to see Abyss leave you. After that previous incident that left Abyss unconscious, he had seemed to stick by your side more. Offering to hold your books, throwing his robe over a puddle you were about to walk in, even offering to complete all your homework for you.

It was a bit overwhelming at first, and you refused to let him do all your homework as that seemed to cross the line of being helpful to being used. But his kind gestures grew on you, and you felt your heart melt further and further into his hands. It was scary, how much of a hold he had over you without even knowing it. Even scarier was how oblivious he seemed about it. You had straight up confessed how you felt about him, and he mistook it for friendly (even if he had passed out).

Your nerves felt alight as you stood before Adler dorm 302. The plaque seemed to taunt you as you reconsidered if you wanted to go through with it. Parties weren’t really your thing, they seemed so loud and hectic, something you weren’t really fond of. Besides, why was a Lang student hanging out with Adler? Weren’t they rivals? Apparently a lot has happened unknown to you.

Before your thoughts could spiral further, a boy with black hair with a yellow streak at the front opened the door. Your heart sped up, hands felt clammy as you felt completely out of your element. A look of surprise adorned his face, clearly not expecting you to be on the other side. You were clearly older than him, and the two of you hadn’t crossed paths before.

“Uhm, hello,” You started awkwardly. “Is…uhm, is Abyss here?”

His golden eyes widened even further if that was possible and nodded, “Yeah, are you here for the party?”

“Yeah,” You nodded, looking around as the first year opened the door further for you to enter. There were more people than you expected, most of them being first years. There was a girl wearing a pink apron, serving everyone water, then there was that first year that had rumors blooming in all corners of the school. His shortly cut black hair and slightly dull golden eyes made him look more unassuming than you thought. Then there was a blue haired first year. Then there sat both Abyss and the one and only prefect of the Land dorm, Abel. Finally there sat…IS HE OKAY? You couldn’t help but stare owlishly at a red haired kid who was struggling in his wheelchair and covered head to toe in bandages. Love was jumping around him and stealing all the treats in front of him.

Looking to your side, the first year who let you in watched on with you. Both of you feeling overwhelmed by the chaotic sight.

“Is this normal?” You couldn’t help but ask.

“Unfortunately,” He replied back, sweat dripping down the side of his face. Introducing yourself, the first year, who you learned to be Finn, introduced you to everyone. Normally you had trouble remembering groups of people, but you knew that it would be even harder to forget this lively group.

Unsure on what to do, you sat next to Finn, as Abyss seemed busy playing cards with Abel. The two of you bonded over being the only seemingly normal ones of the group. In fact, you learned a lot from Finn, and you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing at the tales he experienced so far. You couldn’t imagine being a student and going through all that, and you gave your kudos to the group of friends. Finn seemed like a good kid, and you grew fond of him quickly.

Abyss had glanced up when you let out a particularly loud laugh (an accident really), and his eyes grew wide. He had been so caught up in letting Abel win the game, he hadn’t realized you joined the table. He watched you listen intently as Finn waved his arms around while telling you something you clearly found comedic. He found his chest aching slightly, as he never recalled a time you had smiled or laughed so brilliantly around him. He knew he couldn’t provide you with everything you deserved, but to see you seemingly pulled away from him so quickly snapped him out of the fantasy he had allowed himself to drift into.

Abel noticed the shift in Abyss’ expression. He watched his friend's heterochromic eyes fall onto your figure solemnly. It didn’t take a genius to unravel Abyss’ feelings towards you. He had talked about you to Abel whenever the chance arose, and the way his gaze stared at you longingly hit the nail on the coffin. Abyss had fallen for you. Now Abel was still learning to be more empathetic, and he realized how much he actually cherished Abyss. So Abel tried to give you the benefit of the doubt. He’s only heard good things, but he watched you closely, waiting for you to slip up and prove yourself unworthy of his friend.

It didn’t take you long to feel the eyes that seemed to pierce you. Glancing across from you, you greeted Abyss happily, unaware of the gloom that had suddenly taken hold of his soul.

That day marked the start of Abyss trying to distance himself from you. Of course you, a person who aimed to gain his attention, had noticed almost right away. At first, you thought that something had happened and he just needed some space. But the excuses kept piling up, and he even distanced himself from you at your shared table. The sting of rejection took over you, wondering if you had done something wrong. Had you crossed a boundary? Had you somehow slighted him unknowingly? Did he finally realize that you weren’t as great as he made you out to be?

You weren’t one for confrontation, but these questions were eating you from the inside out. Your feelings for Abyss had grown stronger than you felt comfortable with, and the thought of you doing something to ruin his perception of you made you want to bawl.

You caught him right at the end of class, asking if the two of you could talk in private. Before he could make an excuse and slither away, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him away to the gardens. Yes you may have asked, but you weren’t giving him an option. When you finally found a quiet spot, you ignored his flustered expression as you dropped his wrist. If anything, his gall to be flustered in this situation made you even more frustrated.

“Why are you avoiding me?” You asked, cutting to the chase. You couldn’t stand to be left in the dark for a moment longer. Only for Abyss to look off to the side, silence falling between you two. The anger you felt only moments ago dissipated into anxiety. “Did I do something wrong?”

That seemed to snap Abyss out of whatever stupor he found himself as his eyes turned wild with disbelief, “No! No, you’ve done nothing wrong. You could never do anything wrong.”

Frowning, you looked off to the side, feeling unsure of yourself, “You can tell me, I won’t be angry. I just want to know so I don’t do it again.”

A silence fell over the two of you once more, and it made that pit in your stomach continue to grow. When you finally managed to look at him, his gaze unsettled you. Not because of his evil eye, but because he looked so sorrowful. Did you really make him feel so sad? You could never forgive yourself for such a sin.

The way your name rolled off his tongue twisted your heart, he said it so beautifully, yet so gravely, “You don’t deserve someone who drags you down. You deserve the world, and someone who can offer it to you. I will always cherish your kindness and the happiness you have granted me, but I can’t hold you back any longer.” Abyss bowed his head apologetically.

Many emotions ran through you; fluster, warmth, confusion, dejection, astonishment, and many more. Over time, he had told you of his upbringing, of his treatment by society and all you could feel was unbridled rage at how the world has treated him. You’ve learned of his low self esteem, but you thought you had moved past this stage. You thought you had made it clear to him that his ability didn’t hinder you in any way and you adored him no matter what. What had caused all that progress to diminish?

“I don’t want the world,” You declared, your frustration overpowering your filter. “I want you.” Two seconds too late, had you realized what you just said. You meant it. You wanted him, to hold him, to love him, for him to love you, but you had never been so bold before. Unlike the last time you had said something brazen, this couldn’t be misconstrued as merely friendly.

Overwhelming warmth engulfed your entire being as you and Abyss stared at each other. Abyss seemed to be in worse shape than you as his entire face and neck were cherry red. The two of you stood like that for a few minutes, unsure how to continue after such a proclamation. When the long haired man suddenly kneeled in front of you, your body felt like it was being consumed by fire. What was he doing? Were you the protagonist of a romance novel?

“Marry me.”

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#abyss razor x reader #mashle x reader #abyss x reader #razor x reader #abyss razor #mashle #x reader #abyss #razor

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dreamy-moonbird · 2 months

Text

𝔹𝔸ℕ𝔾

⤷ Osamu Dazai x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➤ genre § angst ✎ word count § 4.9k ⊱ warnings § mentions of gunshot, description of injuries, failed suicide attempt, hospital scene, mentions of death, rejection

The sound echoed in the room, unbelievable.

You fearlessly stood your ground in front of the gun, although you were shocked the bullet hit you. The shooter himself stood speechless, watching the smoke exit his abnormal gun in front of you, you weren't even the target at all. You jumped just in time, between when the guy pulled the trigger and right before the bullet hit his original target, whom was the surprised guy behind you.

Dazai Osamu, a name so dear to you. He knows exactly how to get right under your skin sometimes, and other times he knows just the ticks to start out a riot of butterflies in your stomach and make your heart flutter. After all, you couldn't forget the first time you met him.

You were standing on the edge of a building, in a sad thunderstorm. Your tears blended perfectly with the raindrops hitting your face, as the drops streamed down your cheeks and dripped over your chin. Soft hiccups and sobs exited your freezing form, as you watched the busy streets below your toe whilst holding on to the metallic rail behind your waist. Your shoulders shuddered from the cold, as you whined sadly like a puppy. You wanted to scream, but you couldn't.

"Oh my!"

You heard a deep voice from behind that made you gasp, you wanted to turn around but your foot slipped. And so did your fingers from around the rail, letting you fall.

"I gotcha!"

You felt a strong hand wrap around your gentle wrist, as the person pulled you upwards. He sat you on the rail, wrapping his other arm around your waist and pulling you further from the edge to safety.

"There, you're ok."

He said with a smile, letting go of your body and pulling his arms back shoving his hands into his pockets. You looked up to see his dark chocolate brown hair, with a pair of hazelnut brown eyes. He had a calm smile, as he had to look down at you, due to your smaller figure.

"Why'd you do that? I was going to jump either way." You murmured.

Crossing your arms and turning your head away. Only now did the silence alarm you that it stopped raining.

"I thought if we're both here for the same purpose, why not do it together? As a double suicide!" He said, joining you to look out at the buildings and the sea behind them.

"Why do you wanna die?" You looked up at him.

"Let's turn that question around, shall we? Is there really any worth to this thing we call living?" He smiled, looking down at the people who started closing their umbrellas one by one.

"There's a lot, more than you can imagine." You said, and he went silent.

"I lost mine." You murmured, with a last tear slipping down your cheek, but he heard it and stayed silent.

"Then why are you here if you think so?" He asked.

"Guess it was just a mindless moment of sadness. I'm afraid to keep going on my own." You looked down and crossed your arms.

"How about this... I'll be by your side until you find another reason to live for. And you have to prove to me, there is a reason for living." He smiled at you, stretching his hand out for you to shake.

"Deal?"

You blinked twice by the stranger's words, and shook his hand after a moment. With a bit of convincing you two left the building, and went on a walk. You learned that his name was Dazai, and he learned your name. Then you two didn't talk about each other, and none of you asked, until he stopped by a café.

"Let's get a drink, shall we?" Dazai said, making you stop and look at him for a moment.

"I insist." He smiled, opening the door and gesturing you to go inside first.

You nodded and walked in, sitting down at a random table and he sat in front of you. You didn't feel like eating, so you ended up ordering two drinks. He ordered a glass of champagne, which came within 5 minutes, but he waited for your drink to arrive, which was hot cocoa in a white mug. You grabbed it with both hands, feeling it's warmth as you stayed silent whilst starring at the liquid and the steam exiting it.

"For... " Dazai stared at his glass while thinking as he spun it around gently.

"A reason out there... that's for us to live." He held his glass up, with a smile at you.

You blinked twice, and held your mug up, slowly clicking it against his own glass.

That was your first encounter, you still had a trauma aftermath from the incident, but slowly and bit by bit you regained your cheerful personality. And a day after another, you began catching feelings for Dazai. You met regularly on the weekends, and he always took you out for candy. Just like the promise he made, he was always there for you. You learned from one of his friends, that came to pick him up once when you two were out, that Dazai was a suicidal airhead. However, he didn't try to kill himself once after he met you.

One day, you finally decided to let him know that you want to be closer to him more than just a friend.

It was a sunset, where half of the sun was hidden by the sea beside. You were wearing your favorite outfit, while he had his usual, with his coat over his shoulders without his arms being inside the sleeves. You two stood in front of each other when you asked him to meet up, and he asked what is it that you need.

"I... l-like you!" You finally stuttered it out.

A roar of wind came from behind you, and over his face as if adding an atmosphere to his shocked expression. He blinked twice averting his gaze then looked back at you.

"I like you too. We're friends, aren't we?" He rubbed his nape, almost hoping you didn't mean anything else.

"N-no... Dazai, I... I like like you. I wanna be more to you than just a friend. I- I love you." You looked at the ground, with your ever reddening face.

Dazai still had his eyes averted, he couldn't bring himself to look at you. Not in this conversation. You meant a lot to him, the day you didn't text him because you were sick and you were asleep the whole day. He came banging on your door for his life because he didn't see your smile that day. But he just couldn't bring himself to admit the fact he loved you. He thinks he only just likes your company because you're his best friend, and nothing more, but he still doubted himself sometimes. He'd wish you were his, and ask himself a lot what are you to him after all.

After a moment, he brought his hand down, shoving it in the pocket of his pants, then shook his head. He thinks you're probably just as confused as him, he's your best friend, and you probably just care about him so much you think you love him.

"I don't like you that much." He frowned at the ground, shocked at his own choice of words. Although he was wondering at the back of his head, do I?

His heart ached at how rude he said that, and his breath invisibly hitched when he looked at your shocked and hurt expression.

"I'm here to take care of you, remember? Until you find your reason to live. Till then, it's better to just stay friends." He averted his gaze again.

You stood in silence. You didn't cry, or say anything, and neither did he speak again. After a moment he walked towards you, and patted your head before passing you by.

"After that, it's better to go our own separate ways." He said, removing his hand and walking away, not calling after you and you didn't follow him.

You turned around, and watched him leave as a little tear streamed down your face but you wiped it instantly.

But I found my reason to live.

After that, things were cold for a week, mainly because you were hurt at his words, and you took time to heal up. Figuring out that there's nothing you can do, he has no feelings towards you, so beat it. Being his best friend is better than a stranger, right? Avoiding him and mourning won't fix anything. So you called him, after the so many missed calls you had from him. You apologized that you didn't pick up, and told him that you didn't want your feelings to break your friendship with him. He was more than happy to hear that, and as time passed by you went back to your happy-go-lucky aura, and the awkwardness was erased from between you two.

Which brings us now... you had to protect your reason to live, and he, who couldn't process that he did care about you that much, watched his life crumble behind him as you took the bullet. It was a frozen moment, where he just processed your position, and only the sound of your high pitched yelp snapped him back to reality.

"Ack!" You gasped, letting the blood gush out of your mouth.

The bullet hit right under your left chest area, however, the gun was unusual and so was the bullet, it was wider than any normal gun bullet, and it almost made an explosion in your internals where it hit. Blood also gushed out of your injury as the momentum of the bullet pushed you back, but Dazai caught your body before you hit the ground.

Dazai was speechless, and for the first time in a long time, he didn't know what to do. He wanted to chase away the life out of the guy's eyes, as Dazai watched you ache on his lap. But he wanted to be by your side, and take care of you, in case these really are your dying breathes.

"Stay still, I got it!" Atsushi came running after the guy as he sprinted away, and another person was heard to be calling the ambulance outside the room.

Dazai watched them leave, then he found himself strangely holding you close to him while starring at you.

"Y-you... what the hell would you do that for?!" He slightly shook you, pressing his hand against your injury to stop the blood from flowing out.

"A-aah..." You starred at his bloody hand, over your own bloody hands in fear as tears streamed down your face. Simply because of the pain, but you had no regrets.

"That's not what I need right now." You whined and turned your head away from him, referring to his yelling.

"Look at me!" Dazai said, not any less freaking out, as he pushed your head back in his direction.

"Y-you... you shouldn't go, we had a- we had a deal! Remember?!" He grabbed your shoulder tightly holding on to you, almost as if by doing so, everything will just rewind and you two won't even be here.

You let out a weak chuckle as you brought your hand all covered in blood up to his face, he didn't flinch and just looked at you. You caressed his cheek with your fingers, as they quivered to stay still against his skin, so he grabbed your hand lacing his fingers with yours, finally understanding it all.

"You really are a dork." You smiled at him, the smile he always waited at night, so impatient to see the next day, making him feel like he'll never see it again.

"Don't you see?" You huddled up to his chest, still holding his hand, as your eyes started to close.

"You were my reason to live." You winced, looking at him through half closed eyes, your smile never leaving your lips.

"I'm not scared, ok? And I have no regrets." You whispered to him, as he slowly rocked you on his lap.

Holding your head to his chest, never letting go off your hand. Soon enough, a tear by tear started going down his own face. He didn't make a sound, as he stared at you in shock and fear. You didn't break eye contact with him, and kept on your smile. Although your body grew tired, and more tired with every second.

"D-don't close your eyes... please." He whispered, his lips quivering as he stroked your cheek.

Never in his life has he ever felt so desperate.

"I'm... not sad, so please. Don't be." You smiled, your eyes now closed as you leaned on his palm.

And with that, you blacked out.

Dazai shook you gently urging you to wake you up, without being annoying, but to no vail. Emergency came rushing into the room, stripping your unconscious form away from his grip. He held onto your arm but a nurse guy held him back, to which Dazai wanted to punch him off but he didn't.

"Sir, you need to calm down!"

"I have a heart beat! It's fading."

Dazai's eyes widened just at the thought that this is it, ending his struggle against the nurse, but he got up once he was let go.

He ran after you, as you were taken to the ambulance car. He sat by your side before they closed the door, and held your hand the whole ride, hoping you'd open your eyes again. Luckily, the ride wasn't that long so you were quickly placed on to a hospital bed and pushed into the building, with nurses coming rushing to your side one by one. Dazai followed you all the way inside, until a nurse stopped him before they took you away behind a door. Dazai pushed her off, leading to more nurses and maybe even a few random passerbys to stop him.

"Just- take care of her!"

The only thing that made him stop and go silent, was right before the door closed. He saw you, giving him a thumb up with a half awake smile. You knew it was going to be ok, so maybe just maybe it will. After all, he can do nothing but just hope.

Evening sheltered over the city like a blanket, and stars appeared in the sky by turns as the dark side of the moon stood in the middle of the sky. Dazai stayed in the hospital, he lost count of the amount of hours he's been sitting here for. He never moved or changed his position, sitting down with his elbow leaning on his lap and his fingers laced together. He received a few calls, and missed most of them, until he saw Atsushi's title on the phone, of course he answered, waiting to hear whoever shot you is captured.

"Yes?" He murmured calmly, but it was obvious that deep down he was losing himself, piece by piece.

"Good." He bit his thumb, thoughtful.

"They're still not letting me see her yet." He ran his hand over his face.

"I'm not hungry." He said, almost angry.

"Yeah, ok. Bye." He hung up, without waiting for the other line to bid farewell.

He exhaled and leaned back, letting his head rest on the wall as he stretched his legs in front of him. He started thinking about the last words he heard from you.

You were my reason to live.

Again, he leaned forward letting his head rest in his hands.

"But are you sure?" He whispered to himself, although he was subconsciously asking you.

He opened his phone and starred at some pictures and videos he took with and of you. Then he remembered the time when you confessed your love for him, as he drowned his face once again in his palms.

I don't like you that much. That's what he told you even though he wondered, do I?

He groaned, almost pulling at his hair.

"Of course you do! You idiot! How have you missed it?!" He yelled practically to no one, growling silently to himself and shaking his head.

"Of course I do, I don't like you. I love you." He rubbed his temples with a hand, as he took in deep breaths.

"And... now... I'll never be able to let you know." He murmured to himself, then sighed, leaning back again.

He kept remembering many moments he had with you, many thoughts he had of you, and many reactions he had for you. How did he never notice? He missed something that was right under his nose, truly an idiot.

One time, two months after you confessed, and everything cooled down, you two were sitting in a café, laughing about something that was very dumb, random, and makes less sense than hot ice. He excused himself for a phone call, and when he came back after five minutes, he found you giggling with another guy. He enjoyed the fact you were more guarded and formal, with the guy than you were with Dazai, whilst you were laughing with Dazai more than you were laughing with the guy. But again, the guy is sitting in Dazai's place like it's his own, what the hell? After processing the situation, and walking up to you. He stood behind you, resting his elbows on your shoulders and leaning on your head as he laced his fingers together in front of your neck.

"Who's this?" He asked.

Your face took a deep shade of red, as you starred at your food.

"D-Dazai, meet Hiroshimi." You gestured to the black head with the blue orbs in front of you.

"Pleasure to meet you, com'on we have to leave." Dazai said, grabbing your wrist and pulling you out the café.

"Wait what? Dazai-" You said, as he pulled you off.

The waitress, who was already all too familiar with Dazai's in and out feelings for you, collected your own stuff with a plan to have you pay later as she didn't stop you, but as a matter of fact, wished you good luck.

"Dazai!"

Dazai was almost growling to himself, with so many thoughts, like how could he leave you? How could the guy come and sit with you? How could you accept it? Almost as if his property has been trespassed.

"Dazai!"

You called again, still simply following him without resisting, but he still didn't answer.

The angrier he got, the tighter his fingers on your wrists got. Almost as if the further you walk away from what happened, and the tighter he holds your hand, his anger will just vanish.

"Dazai, you're hurting me!"

Only then did he snap, when you winced and held his wrist to yank it away. He stopped in his tracks and after a silent moment of realization, he let go.

You looked at him with a confused frown, as you rubbed your wrist, and he watched you rub away his fingerprints from on your skin.

"What the hell was that back there? What is wrong with you?" You snapped at him, in anger and confusion.

His eyes widened in pure shock, as he got lost trying to reason what he did.

"What is wrong with me?!" He pointed at himself.

"What's wrong wrong with you?? Since when do you randomly sit with strangers?!" He snapped back.

"Dazai, that was an old friend! He was sitting with me, and even if he wasn't. Even if I didn't know him, why would you do that?!" You gestured to the café.

"You can't just... sit and laugh with random guys!" He shook his head at the ground, then looked at you.

"What the hell is up with that?! It's not your choice to make! And I'm not that type of girl either!"

Am I jealous? He wondered, as he stayed silent. It's true you're not that type of girl, but why is it that it pains him to just remember the image of you laughing with that friend. No, I just don't want her to get hurt.

"I just- don't want you to get hurt." He sighed, reasoning himself although he was still uncomfortable with the fact that this was not the all true answer.

It took you a moment to respond, because it purely didn't make any sense. There was a moment you thought and wished Dazai was jealous, but you immediately wiped it out to not get your hopes too high up.

You finally said with a sigh.

"Well thank you very much, but I can take care of myself."

Silence fell between you two, there was so much Dazai wanted to tell you but even he didn't have it cleared out, so he kept his mouth shut.

"Samu, you really shouldn't have done that." You gave another sigh, using the nickname you have for him to ease the tension.

"I'm going back." You stepped away from him, as you crossed your arms and walked back to the café.

He reached out for you, but he stopped his hand as he watched you leave. He sighed and shoved his hand back into his pocket, walking in the opposite direction.

As he remembered that, it almost felt like you walked away on him that day just because he walked away on your confession and that if he didn't, you wouldn't have walked away either, but in both times, he was the one who let you go.

"If only..." He whispered to himself as he stared at the ground.

"(Y/N) (L/N)'s guardian?"

He heard someone say, and snapped when he saw the white coat.

"How is she?" He shot up, eager but still containing himself.

"We were able to stabilize her condition to a level, however we should stay guarded." The doctor said calmly.

"She's fine, we just don't know if she'll wake up or not. Our only fear is how easy it is to have her slip away." The doctor explained, when Dazai raised an eyebrow.

"How long will it take for her to wake up at most?" Dazai asked.

"We're giving her a week and up, due to the drug we had to give her, and the already tired state she arrived in. We should start to worry within half a month or so." The doctor explained as he looked at the notebook he had in hand.

"Can I see her?" Dazai asked calmly.

"I won't recommend it but go ahead." The doctor said, not expecting Dazai to listen to him anyway.

With that Dazai rushed into your room, and the doctor walked away.

He looked at your calm peaceful form breathing on the hospital bed, your breath appearing and fading on the plastic oxygen mask as your chest got up and down. The only sound in the room was the repeated beep of the heart monitor, along with his own breathing. He observed for a moment, before making another rush to your side, grabbing your hand with both his hands gently and bringing it to his face.

"Damn it, I'm so sorry." He almost teared up as he kissed your hand.

He felt your hand barely tighten one of your fingers on his hand, but he was convinced it's just a flinch, or an illusion.

"I promise I'll make things right if you wake up. I'll wait" He whispered, mostly to himself.

And so the wait began. A full 24 hours passed by, and another day, soon enough the week was over.

Nurses repeatedly asked him to leave but he glared them off, and they couldn't use force in a patient's room. His friends and colleagues visited regularly, to check on him. Atsushi even bought him food and some coffee once.

"I got you some bento, and coffee."

He awkwardly walked in and placed the things next to Dazai, who didn't respond and just kept his head down.

"She'll wake up, make sure you're in a good health to welcome her."

He patted Dazai's hair then left, not waiting for a response, since he got used to it, but he was slightly glad to see the old bento box he bought two days ago half empty.

"Don't make her blame herself that you did this to yourself, this is no one's fault. This was going to happen either way."

And with that he closed the door behind him. Dazai blinked twice at his words then looked at you.

"Maybe if I just- let you go. This wouldn't have happened." Dazai whispered to himself, placing his palm on his face.

His thoughts rewinded to when you met Hiroshimi. Maybe if he just walked away, you would've been attached to Hiroshimi more than Dazai, and wouldn't be here. The image of you with him pained Dazai, but you in a hospital bed pained him more.

He thought it would be best and less painful if you two stay away from each other, if being separate was your destiny then it's best to stay unattached. However here you are, unattached and it still hurts like hell.

The silence was broke by your humming as your breath hitched. It immediately snapped Dazai back to reality, to see your frowning face and narrowed eyebrows. You repeatedly tilted your head softly, slowly and weakly as your hands tightened on the covers. Dazai got up to stand by your side, he gave the sped up heart monitor a glance before grabbing your hand.

"Shhhh, you're ok." He held your hand and laced his fingers with yours, placing his other hand on your head to stroke your hair.

Your hums turned into low groans, as you let your head tilt in his direction.

"Saa.mu.." You whispered tiredly, struggling to open your eyes or say the words.

"Hey." He kissed your hand while stroking your bangs repeatedly.

"Hi." Your voice was much weaker and drier, as you struggled to even smile.

"How are you feeling?" He smiled.

"I feel shot, man." You whispered with a tired smirk, blinking slowly.

He barely chuckled and shook his head, barely biting his lip to hold back a tear but he failed and it slipped down his cheek.

"God damnit..." He hovered over you, picking your head up and your torso into an embrace.

He had an arm wrapped around you on your back, while he picked your head up to hug you properly without having you give any effort to hoist yourself up.

It took you a moment to realize this, but you eventually wrapped your heavy arms around him, you laid them on his back to be more accurate, but you still returned the embrace as you leaned on his shoulder.

"Don't do this to me ever again." He whispered.

"I mean... if you're gonna hug me like this, I can take a bullet-" You said, but he cut you off.

"I'll hug you all you want!" He pulled back to look at you, making you blush.

"Just- don't- please..." He murmured, lowering his head to press his forehead against yours as he stroked your cheeks, some tears streaming down his cheek.

"Osamu?" You whispered, cupping his face to dry his tears using your thumbs.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N)... I'm so sorry. I thought that it would be easier and less painful for the both of us if I just stay away. I wanted you to be happy, and I was scared." He whispered, as he looked at you again.

"I never thought I cared this much, and I never thought it would hurt this much." He stroked your cheek with a hand and stroked your hair with the other.

"If it's gonna hurt either way, then it's better to be with you. I'm sorry I never realized it earlier, but I love you. I really do. I always have, and I'm sorry I never told you before, but I'm telling you now." He said.

"I love you to the point I want to spend my life, and after life with you. There is a reason for living, and my reason is you. I love you to the point you make me happy I never got a chance to kill myself." He murmured, and that line pissed you off, but this is Dazai, for the love of god, how else will he express his love?

It was silent for a moment, with your cheeks on a shade of red and the heart monitor was sped up more than normal.

"I... love you too, Osamu. I always did, and still will." You smiled softly.

His lips barely curved into a smile as he grabbed your head and slowly planted his lips on yours. You once again laid your arms on his back and neck, letting him hold you as you kissed back.

Meanwhile outside the room, Atsushi was pointing a gun to the doctor, as a sweat drop streamed down his cheek.

"I'm so sorry, sir. I can't let you go in right now." He said.

The doctor starred at the boy, covering his face with the notepad, as the boy turned to his friend.

"Did he make a move yet?" He asked.

"Wait.... oh my god, oh my god, they're kissing!!" The friend cheered in a whisper as he was peeking through the ajar curtains of the room's window.

"Yes!" Atsushi said.

"I fucking hate my job." The doctor murmured as he walked away.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ✧˖° ₊˚⊹ ᰔ༉‧₊˚.

#bsd x reader #dazai x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai fluff #dazai angs #bsd fluff #bsd angst #dazai x you #bsd x you #bsd imagines #bungou stray dog imagines #dazai imagines

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nyoomfruits · 3 months

Text

i somehow lost the ask but this was written for the ‘wanna practice’ kiss prompt with lestappen :)

The door of the dorm room swings open rather dramatically, banging against the opposing wall as Charles comes barging through, beeling for this bed and flopping down on it face first.

“Do I just suck?” He asks, voice muffled by his pillow.

“Yes,” Max says, not looking up from where he is working on his econ homework on his own side of the dorm room.

“You don’t even have any context,” Charles says, unburrying his face. Max glances at him. He’s pouting.

“Hm,” Max says, pretends to consider it. “No, my answer stands.”

Charles makes a dramatic strangled warbling noise and falls back into the pillows. Not for the first time, Max regrets becoming his friend. It was easier, back in high school, when they were sworn enemies. Lot less exaggerated sighing as Charles waits for him to ask him what’s wrong.

After the fifth sigh, a deep one that must be coming from the depths of Charles toes, Max finally relents. “Fine,” he says. “What happened?”

Charles looks up with entirely too much glee, happy to be indulged, as he says, “I think I’m like, unloveable.”

Max suppresses his snort as he thinks of all the people that would line up to get their shot with Charles Leclerc. “Sure,” he settles on. “Why?”

“I was making out with this girl last night and then she made this very obvious excuse and just left. And there was this guy, a week ago, we’d just been making out for like, maybe a minute and then he went ‘nope’ and left.” Charles has flopped onto his back now, staring miserably at the ceiling.

“Maybe you’re just bad at kissing,” Max says, frowning down at his econ homework.

“What? No I’m not,” Charles says, indignant. There’s a pause, during which Max scribbles some things down in his notes. Then, very quietly, “Oh my god, maybe I am.”

Max makes a ‘well, there you go’ motion, and hopes this means he can finally go back to finishing this assignment. It isn’t due for another two days, but there’s that paper coming up and he has time now, so-

“Kiss me,” Charles says. Max hadn’t even heard him move, but he’s here now, leaning into Max’s space like some kind of siren out of a Greek myth trying to lure him into the depths of seduction.

Or something. If anything, Max’s brain isn’t really working right. Charles is right there, in his space, hands leaning on the sides of Max’s desk chair, looking ridiculously… giddy, almost. Max had this dream once. But Charles had looked a lot more sultry and his eyes had been closed and he’d been sitting in Max’s lap instead of leaning over him and-

“Why,” Max says. In his haste to stop that insane train of thought, he forgets to phrase it as a question.

Charles pouts at him. His nose is inches away from Max’s. “So you can tell me if I’m a bad kisser.”

“Who says I’d be a good judge of that,” Max says, instead of outright ‘no’, because he’s a self sabotaging idiot. “Maybe I’m a horrible kisser.”

Charles tssk’s. “You and Daniel dated for like two years. If you’d been bad at kissing he’d dumped you much sooner.”

“Thanks,” Max says, frowning. “I think.”

“Come on,” Charles weedles. “Just see it as like, practice. For you. For when the next Daniel comes along.”

Max snorts derisively. The next Daniel is currently trying to convince him to kiss, so. Whatever. “Fine,” Max eventually says, because Charles is a stubborn little bastard and maybe if they kiss he will finally leave Max to his assignment.

Also Charles is still there, in his space, with his big green eyes and his stupid pouty mouth and Max is only a man, so.

“Yay!” Charles says, and then abruptly lunges forward to smash his lips against Max’s.

Their teeth clunk together and Max winces as his nose bumps against Charles’s, and he lets out a strangled little noise as he gently pushes Charles back.

He’s starting to see there might be some truth to the whole ‘Charles is bad at kissing’ thing.

“Wow, okay, let’s just,” he gently pushes a confused Charles further back and gets up out of his chair, so they’re face to face. “Maybe do it a little more gently, yeah? Like this,” He puts one hand on Charles chin, tilts his fac up a little, softly brushing their lips together before pressing a little harder, letting their lips slide against each other.

And oh, it’s much better like this, Charles following Max’s lead, his hands coming to rest on Max’s waist as Max’s hands slip into Charles’s hair, and he’s a little enthusiastic with his tongue at first, but he’s a quick learner, and for a moment there Max forgets all concept of time.

“Ah,” Charles says when he pulls away. There’s a frown on his face, like he's deep in thought. “Yes. I might have been doing that wrong.”

Max merely hums, still reeling a little bit from the experience, still feeling the faint touch of Charles’s lips on his own, not trusting himself to speak.

“Well!” Charles suddenly says, seemingly shaking himself out of whatever thought process he’d gotten tangled up in. “Thanks for that! I shall put it into practice now.”

It takes Max a while to understand what he means, but then Charles is putting on his jacket and grabbing his keys and oh.

He means with other people.

“Right,” Max says, trying really hard not to look disappointed. “Right, well, good luck.”

“Thanks!” Charles yells over his shoulder, before moving through the door, taking Max’s entire heart with him.

Max is left standing in the middle of the room, staring forlornly at his econ homework. It suddenly lost all of its earlier appeal. Especially when he can still feel the ghost of Charles’s finger tips on his waist.

#lestappen???? in this economy????#i kid #anyway excuse my characterization its Been A While #lestappen #drabble

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ginnsbaker · 11 months

Text

In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (3/?)

Chapter summary: Wanda finds you again after months of estrangement.

Chapter word count: 5.5k

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader, Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader

Chapter Warnings: None

Author’s Note: Decided to post this early in celebration of Love & Death's final episode.

AO3 | Masterlist

Next Chapter: Four

Three

At two in the morning, Wanda’s insomnia is at its worst.

Sleep doesn’t come despite doubling her usual dosage of sleeping pills, and she considers taking another, just so she can stop thinking about what Pietro said–about you moving on with someone new. Because despite her confidence in your love for her, her faith is waning with each passing day that you continue to leave her messages seen and her calls unanswered.

She wonders how love–a resilient but tainted one–can survive in the dark. If it can survive at all.

Wanda remembers reading somewhere on the internet that the human epidermis continually makes new cells every second, so that in just 30 days, one’s skin is entirely new. In months of being apart, it meant that there’s no longer an inch of her that has ever touched you. All that remains of her in you are memories. And what a fragile thing they are, when people are always forgetting.

Wanda doesn’t want to be forgotten. Least of all by you.

She knows it’s within your rights to fall in love again, and she’s adamant for it to be with her. Her stubborn nature makes her cling to your wedding vow: that if you don’t end up with her, then you end up with no one. Maybe she’s delirious to still believe that you’d fulfill those promises, especially with how hard it is to reconcile those promises with dead silence.

Nevertheless, Wanda tries. She continues to send you mundane messages like a restaurant discovery or what she had for lunch, or a comment on the weather, telling you how nice it’d be to go outside for a walk.

Tonight, she sends you a text about Sparky’s visit to the vet, hoping it provokes a reaction from you. It immediately gets read. Wanda’s breath hitches when she sees three dots appear right after her message. However, they soon disappear, leaving Wanda to stare at another unanswered text.

Tomorrow, then. And if not, the day after. Wanda won’t let you forget about her.

Agatha helps her with the finishing touches on her café, which happens to be unsold paintings donated by her colleagues from the gallery itself that Agatha manages. She’s informed Wanda that she’s considering early retirement to find something else to do, and when Wanda mentioned that she’s opening up a business, Agatha suggested she’d volunteer to help out on weekends in exchange for free coffee and dessert any day of the week. Wanda didn’t think twice to accept the proposal, and they shook on it.

“You have an eye for design, Wanda. You can make a career out of it once your cafe takes off and can hire someone to manage instead of doing it all by yourself.” Agatha says, dusting the final frame they hanged on the wall.

“Thanks. It’s just not me though. I had a lot of help from friends in NYU.” Wanda says, going behind the counter to make sure everything’s set for the big day, two days from now.

“Are you worried about the opening?” Agatha asks.

“A bit, yes.” Wanda admits with a sigh.

“Don’t be. Your pastries alone will keep this adorable thing afloat.” Agatha assures her, admiring the aforementioned pastries currently cooking in the oven.

Wanda smiles graciously, a little unsure if she’d take it as a compliment. With her former boss, it’s hard to tell sometimes. Agatha has the tendency to toe the line between maternal and condescending.

“That’s what I keep telling her.” Pietro, who Wanda didn’t notice entering the shop just now, chimes in. Her brother taps Agatha on the shoulder, making the older woman turn her head in an unnecessarily coquettish manner. Wanda lifts an eyebrow as she observes the two.

“I don’t believe we’ve met.” Pietro says, before running a hand through his hair and letting his textured, angular fringe fall dramatically back over his bleached eyebrows. “I’m Pietro, Wanda’s twin.”

“It’s nice to meet you, dear. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Agatha says evenly with a smile, turning around to face him fully.

Pietro stands unnecessarily closer to her and says, “Believe me, the pleasure is all mine.”

Wanda’s never heard Agatha giggle like a schoolgirl, and shoots him a murderous look. Her oblivious brother merely carries on staring at Agatha like he could see through her clothes.

Squeezing into the narrow space between the two, she starts pushing her brother away from his prey. She can already sense him scheming, and she’s not going to let him potentially ward off the free help she’s gonna get on weekends.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Wanda hisses at him under her breath as soon as she’s positive Agatha’s no longer within earshot.

He raises his hands in front of him in defense. “I was being friendly.”

“No, you weren’t. You were literally eyefucking my ex-boss back there.”

Pietro shrugs. “Maybe she was eyefucking me.”

“I swear, you’re going to–”

“Excuse me?” Agatha interrupts, and they both whip their head towards her–Wanda with a stricken look, and Pietro with a cheshire grin. Agatha can’t help but think how they’re both very attractive.

She addresses Wanda first. “I’m sorry but I have to go. Call me if you need anything, sweetie.”

“Thanks again, Agatha.” Wanda says.

And then she turns to Pietro and winks at him. “I’ll see you around, handsome.”

“Oh, you will.” Pietro answers in a sultry voice that has Wanda harshly digging her nails into his forearm.

He only reacts to the pain after Agatha stepped outside. “Ow! Let go of me!”

“She’s off limits you pig.” Wanda chastises, landing some weak strikes on his arm.

“Fine!” Pietro throws his hands up in surrender.

Wanda lets him go with a triumphant smile. “What are you doing here anyway? I thought I’d see you on Monday.” she says.

“My friend invited me to this club tonight, and I want you to come with.” Pietro says.

“I’m not really in the mood to party.”

“You really have changed since you’ve been married to Y/N.”

“Thanks.” Wanda says curtly, and it’s not even sarcastic. If there were changes about her that were of your influence, then they could only mean the good kind. Wanda has long ago learned that she likes herself best when she’s with you.

“Don’t you at least feel like celebrating this?” Pietro gestures at the tiny confines of the cafe.

“My idea of celebration is just steaks and wine,” she replies, shrugging her shoulders. “Lots of wine.”

“Wands, you can’t keep punishing yourself. You deserve to have a good time once in a while.”

Wanda scoffs. “Punishing myself? Believe me, I haven’t started.”

“Wanda, come on,” Pietro pleads earnestly. “The thing is, I’m planning to bump into this real estate dude, and having my sister to make me look like a decent guy is going to help my chances in my investment pitch, okay?”

Wanda considers the new information. “Why didn’t you start with that in the first place?”

“Because I didn’t want to flat-out ask my heartbroken sister for help. Cause I know you’re… You’re half the person you used to be. You’re not whole, and here I am, needing your help when there’s nothing I can do to help you back.”

It’s the most vulnerable she’s seen her brother, and it makes Wanda want to gather him in his arms and be children again.

“Piet..”

Pietro assumes back a sturdy posture. “I’m sorry. I just need you. But if–”

“I’ll be there. Just text me where and what time you need me.” Wanda assures him.

“I’ll owe you one, sis.”

“Try twenty.”

Pietro deserts her as soon as she serves her purpose, and he gets invited to the VIP floor of his prospective investor. Wanda doesn’t hold it against him, seeing how important this deal is to him. Besides, thirty minutes of blaring techno (it’s a crime to call it music, Wanda muses) and seizure-inducing lights are too much for Wanda to bear. She just happens to have four drinks in front of her (bought by different strangers), and there’s just no way she can let perfectly crafted Negronis go to waste. Really, she’s left with no choice but to stay and savor her prized cocktails.

At least two men–and one woman–have taken up the courage to approach her by the bar, and Wanda only has to show them the ring she still wears on her left hand for them to leave her alone with a polite apology.

On her own (and despite you being unaware of it) she wants the world to know she’s still yours.

Heaving a deep sigh, Wanda finishes her drink. One down, three to go. She’s already swimming in a pleasant buzz, and when her eyes drift to the center of the dance floor, she sees the last person she thought of seeing tonight.

It’s true what they say about experiencing everything around you slowing down to a stop when your life flashes through your eyes. It’s closest to how she’d describe seeing you in the flesh after a long stretch of only seeing you in her dreams. For a split second, she thinks she might be mistaken, but it’s definitely you when you start doing that dorky mannequin move that never fails to send her into fits of laughter. And that’s exactly what Wanda does; she half-laughs and half-sobs into her drink as you stiffly move your limbs, wearing a blissful smile of your own.

You seem…okay. Happy, even. Against her will, a deep sense of insecurity settles heavily on her chest.

And then, as if on cue, a blonde girl mirrors your dance moves, stepping into your space too close for Wanda’s liking. She looks much younger than you and Wanda are, and she recognizes the captivated look on her face. It’s the same look Wanda is giving you right now, the same look you used to give her everyday for more than ten years. Wanda helplessly watches you take her hand and spin her around goofily. And when the girl stops and loses her balance, she leans on your side for support. You let her, putting an arm around her shoulder as both of you continue to laugh at the silliness of it all.

Wanda feels her heart fall and crash into pieces. And the guilt of falling apart at seeing you happy like you deserve to be, comes to her in rolling waves.

She downs the rest of her drink–all three of them–and then weaves through the crowded club, bumping against sweaty bodies to find her way out.

Wanda ends up waiting for you from across the street. She wraps her jacket tighter around her body and fights off the cold by blowing her breath into her hands and rubbing them together. It does little to keep her warm, but she’s too enthralled to see your face again to care. She couldn’t simply walk away and wait for another opportunity like this to come.

Eventually–after nearly two hours of waiting–you come out of the building. You’re not accompanied by anyone, and you’re peering down at your phone. In the distance, she can clearly see how unfocused your movements are, which makes her wonder why you’re all by yourself.

She’s about to cross the empty street, when you unexpectedly look up and Wanda’s eyes lock with yours.

Her eyes glisten at the sight of you: somber eyes and flushed cheeks and the beginnings of a dazed smile at the corner of your lips. You were always a doe when there’s alcohol in your system, and Wanda could take advantage of that.

She could. But she won’t, even as you seem transfixed as she is.

Wanda tests the waters by taking a small step in your direction. You don’t move an inch from where you’re standing, but Wanda still holds her breath with each step. She keeps her eyes trained on your figure in case this is a hallucination–in case this is all just a result of standing for hours in the cold. But you gaze back at her, equally awestruck, and she thinks perhaps you’re also figuring out the same thing: if all of this is real.

Wanda takes another careful step while you shift your weight, working out the best way to keep your balance. And then another, until you’re within reach and she can hear your shallow breaths, can smell your scent mixed with your favorite perfume, can see your baby hairs sticking to your forehead. Until she can look into those eyes that always held kindness she doesn’t deserve.

Until finally, she’s standing right in front of you.

It’s been too long, the words keep repeating itself in her head.

Without thinking, Wanda stretches out her arm to cup your face, but–despite your semi-drunken state–you backpedal on instinct. Dispirited, she drops her hand to her side and chews on her lower lip to stop it from trembling. You must have sensed her dismay, because you force a smile, before her name falls from your lips.

“Wanda.”

There's no doubt that you can break her if you want to just by saying her name.

“Y/N,” she whispers your name back, greedily drinking you in an openly brazen manner.

“H-Hi…”

“You… uh,” you fumble with your sentence, trying to come up with something to say, before settling on what you really just wanted to know. “What are you doing here?”

Wanda actually considers lying, until she remembers that it’s what destroyed everything in the first place.

“I was at the same bar and I saw you. I thought about going home, but I couldn’t leave knowing you were just there.” she says.

“Oh,” is all you manage to reply as you assess how you feel about your ex-wife waiting for you outside and possibly catching a cold in the process. Inclined to blame it on the alcohol later, you don’t think you hate the idea that she stood there for hours just to talk to you. It’s so disparate from the time when you two were together, and you were often the one to wait.

But the truth is, it mostly just hurts. After all this time, it’s the same wound that just refuses to heal. Only now there’s more guilt on your part for ignoring her for months even though you know you shouldn’t feel bad for trying to move on the way you have to.

“It’s good to see you.” Wanda says after a beat. “I’ve missed y–”

Suddenly, your head is filled with images going down on a stranger at the gym. You shake your head harshly in a feeble attempt to shake off the memory.

Wanda is quick to assume that you don’t want to hear any semblance of how much she aches for you.

“I don’t feel–”

You feel violently sick, but you fail to say that out loud because the next second, you hear Wanda shriek in shock and you find yourself bent over your stomach, emptying its contents next to her stilettos. Wanda hovers above you as she gently pulls back your hair on one hand and rubs soothing circles on your back with the other.

Your throat burns and you grimace as you stagger back on your feet.

“Wanda, I’m so–”

“Shhh… you need to sober up,” Wanda explains softly. You don’t know you’ve been leaning onto her for support until you saw her left hand wrapped tightly around your arm.

Her left hand, that is anything but bare.

“Why are you still wearing it?” The question abruptly falls out of your mouth, losing the ability to filter the thoughts that you would rather stay in your head if you weren’t in such an inebriated state.

Wanda tenses up at the question, surprised that you still noticed.

“You know why.” she mumbles, struggling to keep you upright. She doesn’t say more, just silently directs you to the pavement where you both sit next to each other.

“Your hair. It’s too brown.” you speak in a slow drawl, still having enough cognitive function to change the topic. Wanda grimaces at the comment, despising her new hairdo more than usual.

For a while you and Wanda just sit there, basking in awkward silence.

“I need to call an Uber but my phone is dead.” you whisper into your knees, talking to no one in particular. You look and sound so small, so far from when you were dancing earlier. Wanda tries not to think that maybe she’s the reason for it. She worries at her lip, contemplating if she should call a ride for you. But with your current state, she’d be on the edge all night wondering if you got home safe. And knowing you probably won’t update her, she’s probably going to lose her mind over it.

Rising to her feet, Wanda makes a decision and offers a hand for you to take.

“Hey. I’ve got an idea.”

Wanda watches you dip a fry into a plain sundae and pop it into your mouth. Her cheeks redden a little when you moan in appreciation, eyes closed as if you were sampling a gourmet dish. She’d never understand your weird taste for putting together two of the things that should never be put together.

“Feel better?” she asks, disinterestedly picking at her nuggets.

“Much.” you say, licking your thumb with gusto. At this point, Wanda makes the right decision to look away before her thoughts become anything but innocent. You’re starting to recover from your intoxication, and she’s careful not to make you feel the slightest discomfort.

“How’s Sparky?” you ask all of a sudden, remembering Wanda’s text the other night about a visit to the vet.

Wanda takes a sip of her coffee, then says, “Something about a low platelet count. They just prescribed him some meds. He’s doing better, I think.”

“That’s good to hear.” you say.

Both of you fall back into another period of quiet.

Wanda’s head is sifting through the many topics that she had mentally filed in advance for this moment, but all she wants is to ask about you and your dance partner. The way she fell into you and the way you caught her with ease wasn’t at all friendly. The girl was obviously smitten, and Wanda can’t blame her. She can’t blame anyone but herself.

She peeks at you through her lashes, taking in your solemn expression as you suck on the plastic spoon.

Are you dating her?

Have you already slept together?

Has she been replaced?

Instead, Wanda says, “He misses you though”, because she couldn’t risk saying the wrong thing.

“I miss him too.” you say, and Wanda detects a hint of softness in your tone for the first time tonight.

It’s pathetic how she’s internally begging for you to say the same thing about her.

(How she’s envious of her own dog for it.)

“You should see him some time.” Wanda says, and at the skeptical look in your eye, she adds, “I don’t mean you visit him at my place. I can bring him to you. Maybe he can stay at yours for a weekend.”

You nod like you understand what she’s trying to do– what information she’s trying to get out of you. She expects you to dismiss the idea, but you surprise her by saying, “That can be arranged.”

“Great! We’ll–”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Right.”

The stillness and lack of words return for the third time. Not that Wanda is counting. But it doesn’t last as long as the other two, when you surprise her again by offering her what’s left of your sundae. “Want some?”

Wanda smiles at the gesture and scoops some with her own spoon. She misses the little things, like sharing food and killing time in a place as mundane as Mcdonald’s.

“Are you still using your old number?” Wanda asks, a subtle tremor in her voice.

You wince, aware of what she’s actually asking. You let it slip that your old number is active when you asked about Sparky.

“Not as much as my current one.”

“Oh, that explains it.”

Something about her reply rubs you off the wrong way.

“Explain what?”

Wanda is taken aback by your snippy tone. She used to be able to read you so easily, and now she can’t pinpoint exactly what set you off.

“What I mean is,” Wanda starts as gently as she could. “I’ve been trying to reach you for months. And you weren’t entertaining any of my attempts to communicate.”

“Well. Imagine that.”

“Did I say something wrong?” Wanda asks, voice thick with unshed tears. “Whatever it is, I’m sorry.”

You heave a sigh, and Wanda frowns at that. In such a short time, she’s managed to exasperate you without even trying.

You pause to gather your thoughts, and then regard her with an apologetic look.

“Sorry…For being a bitch to you, not for avoiding you.” you say.

Wanda wipes a single tear that has escaped her eye with a finger. “You did say goodbye. I’m just too delusional to accept it.”

“You’re not.”

Wanda lets out a hollow chuckle in response.

“I’m delusional for thinking that I can erase you if I pretend long enough you don’t exist.” you say.

She knows it’s what you’ve been doing, but it still hurts for you to lay it out in the open.

“Did it work?” she asks, picking at the skin around her nail until it bleeds.

“No,” you answer truthfully. You don’t elaborate on it and give her the satisfaction of knowing that you’re still miserable without her.

For Wanda, those two letters give her first, real taste of hope since the night you confronted her about Vision. She knows better than to jump at the earliest sign that things may start turning around, but she couldn’t help herself from speaking the words that are most important for you to hear.

“I love you,” she feels every syllable of them in her tongue, and she cries further when you shake your head.

“We can think we’re in love, when we’re really just in pain.” you say to her with a mournful smile.

“I don’t believe that. Sometimes they go together, because it’s just how it is. Love’s supposed to hurt.”

“I don’t want to talk about this with you. This is something we have to resolve individually, exclusive of each other.”

A look of resignation registers on Wanda’s face. It’s the most meaningful conversation you’ve had since separating, and she’ll willingly let go of the things you don’t want to discuss any further.

“What happens now?” she asks, placing the decision in your hands once again.

“I don’t know,” you say more with your shoulders than anything else. You steer the topic away from Wanda’s persevering feelings for you, and continue with, “I just want to enjoy this meal with… a friend.”

Wanda’s breath hitches at the apparent rejection.

“You want us to be friends?”

“Honestly, I don’t know yet.”

“Friends....” Wanda trails off. It’s better than nothing, right? Being friends again is a good start. Friends fall in love all the time, don't they?

“I can do ‘friends’.” she says with newfound determination.

“I need to think about it.” you say because in spite of everything, you’re never one to make promises you can’t keep.

Wanda nods meekly. You stare at each other for a few moments, having reached an impasse, before Wanda remembers a major detail in her life she hasn’t shared with you over a text.

“I have news. I’m opening a café in Queens on Monday. It’s, uh, where most of the alimony went.”

Your face considerably brightens, as if the past several minutes didn’t happen at all. Wanda falls in love with you just a little harder at your organic reaction to her accomplishment.

“That’s amazing, Wanda. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” she says and blushes at the way you look so proud of her.

“Wanda Maximoff, Cafe Owner.” you state her new title wistfully. “You make the best coffee though, so I’m not surprised by that…”

Wanda is no longer listening as a sense of déjà vu creeps underneath her skin, recalling how you had said something similar when she accepted a teaching position at Westview Institute.

Wanda Maximoff, Professor.

And when she got that job at the gallery.

Wanda Maximoff, Art Curator.

And after sharing your first kiss as wife and wife.

Wanda Maximoff, my wife.

Wanda comes to, just before you’re done speaking.

“…Is there anything you can’t do?” you say, good-naturedly.

Love you properly. Wanda broods over her regrets.

She gathers all her verve, only to come up with a paper-thin smile. “You forget I’m a terrible dancer.”

You laugh. “Oh, yeah, that.”

“And I’m also terrible at self-control because,” Wanda admits before she loses the courage for what she’s about to say next. “Because I want to invite you to come to my opening.”

The laughter dies in your throat but the corner of your lips stay upturned.

“I haven’t even gotten my head around ‘friends’ yet.” you remind her softly. “But… I’ll make sure to drop by.”

Wanda exhales in relief. At least she knows when she’ll get to see you again.

“Now, about that Uber?” you say.

“I got it.”

Today’s forecast promised clear, blue skies–and yet, the feeling of dread wouldn’t leave Wanda.

She’s never been a fan of boats (and all sorts of transportation for bodies of water), but she couldn’t come up with any other meeting spot where she wouldn’t accidentally run into you. It’s ironic because for weeks, she’s scoured the places you’d normally be for a chance encounter.

Not this time.

Not when she’s with this person.

Wanda boarded the ferry from Astoria, and it made a quick stop in Roosevelt where Vision was waiting to board the same vessel.

“Thanks for meeting me.” he says as he approaches Wanda who’s standing in the rear viewing deck. The amount of people onboard and the noises of the drafty wind should give them both enough privacy. Wanda doesn’t look up to acknowledge him. She merely continues to observe how the water churns and foams as the ferry picks up speed to leave its dock.

“Threatening to put Y/N in jail if I don’t, didn’t exactly leave me a choice.” Wanda says after a long time.

“You didn’t leave me a choice either. It’s the only way you’d see me,” he argues, and not for the first time, Wanda sees him for what he really is; a mere school boy whom she dragged into her bed, and indirectly scarred for life. “Plus, you know I wouldn’t do that to her. Not because she doesn’t deserve it, but because I made a promise to you.”

Wanda finally forces herself to look at him. His appearance isn’t that of a healthy person. His gaunt cheeks clearly signifies how much weight he’s lost. There’s an ugly scar that runs from the left side of where his hairline starts, all the way down to his nape. And because of the wound, his previously vibrant blonde is all gone, leaving a dull, sandy color of a shaved head.

“What do you want, Vision?” Wanda whispers, feeling more sorry for him than anything.

“You.” Vision states obviously. “I know you’re no longer married.”

“I told you it’s over,” Wanda says mutely. “Back when I was still married. Nothing has changed.”

“When this thing between us started, you knew the worst that could happen. You took the risk. That can’t be for nothing.” Vision’s impassioned plea makes her want to throw up. Wanda wants to deny each of his points, but she’d only be fooling herself.

She did know that there’s a chance you’d discover the affair on your own, and yet she did it anyway. And that’s something she’ll never forgive herself for.

Wanda studies Vision for a moment. She can’t fathom how she ever made the mistake of using him to fill a gap that she couldn’t put a name to–a gap that is deeper and larger in the aftermath of her extramarital affair.

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am for doing this to you. I’m the worst thing to happen to you and Y/N. I’m sorry for this,” Wanda allows herself to lightly trace the wound on his head as a gesture of sympathy. “Don’t blame her, please. I put her through unimaginable pain for her to have done this.”

Wanda allows him to remove her hand from his face and clasps them in his. It’s the one last thing she can do for him.

“You’re so beautiful.” Vision murmurs, trying to keep his emotions at bay. “I don’t mind having my skull smashed a thousand times if it means I could have you all over again.”

Wanda gasps and promptly backs away, effectively freeing her hand from Vision’s hold.

“Don’t say that. You could’ve died!”

Vision smirks and Wanda sees a flash of arrogance he held when he was still her student.

“It’s not so different from what you’re doing to me right now.” he says, and Wanda resists the urge to purse her lips.

“You don’t want me, Vision. You’re young and you have so much to offer–”

“–so much potential, so much capable of great things. Yes, Wanda, I know because you made me see it. You believed in me when no one else would. You saved me from being… worthless.” Vision slides down to the deck, leaning against the railing. He groans in pain, massaging his temples, as if rubbing it hard enough would make all of his problems go away.

Wanda crouches beside him, and then says, “I didn’t save you. I used you. And for that, I’m sorry.”

Vision keeps his eyes closed in an effort to avoid the tears threatening to spill. “Are you… are you back together?”

“No.”

A flicker of hope flashes in his eyes. It glows brighter than the sun as he asks, “Did you ever love me?”

Wanda dares to meet his gaze, and there’s no hesitation in the way she says, “No.”

Vision swallows hard and firms his jaw; a showcase of blind resolution that Wanda doesn’t know how to extinguish.

“I don’t believe you.”

Wanda says nothing. She merely stands up and puts more distance between them.

“You don’t fuck someone like you’ve fucked me and not have feelings.” Vision insists, clinging to the memories of intimately knowing the woman in front of him.

It’s then that Wanda loses her patience.

“You’re a kid,” Wanda snaps, her fingers tightening around the metal rod she’s holding onto. “People lie all the time: with their words, their actions, their bodies. You’re naive to assume you know anything just because you had the best fuck of your life.”

Vision is drawing heavy breaths the second she’s done speaking, as if the weight of Wanda’s words were enough to sink him to the bottom of the sea, desperate for air. Wanda, on the other hand, is equally shocked and simultaneously disgusted at her cruelty towards someone who’s begging for love–begging like she is for yours. What she did to you warranted a punishment that’s ten times greater than he had gotten, and yet you never spoke ill of her, never tried to hurt her as sharply as she did Vision.

Vision–this charming, brilliant, handsome young man who didn’t do anything wrong but succumbed to his boyish desires. Who she just maimed with her words.

The ferry arrives in Long Island. People start gathering their belongings before they head towards the exit. Wanda glances at her wristwatch. She’s late for her first staff session with Agatha.

“Vis,” Wanda croaks. “I wish I could give you what you want, but I can’t. I just can’t, okay? She’s everything to me.”

Vision is quiet, gazing at the sea with a faraway expression.

“It’s more than presumptuous of me to ask you this, but I’m going to ask anyway: forgive Y/N. Please don’t come after her for what happened. I’ll… I’ll pay for the damages.”

Vision lets out a humorless laugh, and then, without looking at her, says, “Just go, Ms. Maximoff.”

Monday

It’s nine-thirty in the evening, and Wanda ushers out the last of the customers to grace her opening day.

You didn’t show up.

“Thank you so much, please come again!” she brightly exclaims with just a hint of tiredness from being all over the place for hours. It wasn’t a blockbuster where the lines would reach the next block, but it didn’t fall flat either. Her pastries were all sold out, and she hadn’t expected the need to place orders to her suppliers so soon.

For all that, as she flips the door sign from ‘Hi, We’re Open’ to ‘Sorry, We’re Closed’, the rush of today’s triumphs also leaves her.

And then she sits alone in one of the barstools facing the window and patiently waits.

The gap widens some more.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #ifiss 2 #ilgoss #wanda maximoff #marvel #unbetad #yelena belova #yelena belova x reader #my writing #my fic #angst

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littlexscarletxwitch · 5 months

Text

── ༊*·˚⋆ 𝗳𝘂𝗰𝗸 𝗶𝘁, 𝗶𝘁'𝘀 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗲

paring: yelena belova x fem!reader

tag(s): smut with plot but not really, a bit of angst but then again not really, nsfw, wlw sex

warning(s): MDNI, +18 ONLY read at your own risk, explicit wlw smut, wlw sex, oral sex, kinda toxic relationship, mentions of drinking alcohol, grammatical errors, unedited

word count: 3k

note: I'M SO SORRY GUYS IT SOOOO LOOOONG. College had been kicking my ass. Agh! I need a break from that shit. Anyways... I was actually going to make the smut part longer but I kinda didn't want to ruin it, so this is what you get lol. Also I literally googled the russian pet names, so please correct me if they are wrong. I hope you all like it! Lots of love, M <3

note 2: I got so many requests and I'm so glad you guys asked me to write your ideas, I really appreciate that. It's going to take me so time but I WILL WRITE THEM and I'm so excited about them. Love the way you guys think lol <3

requests are open! + check my rules here + masterlist <3

⇨ Detka: baby - Moya lyubov: my love - Malishka: little girl - Krasotka: gorgeous

You knew this whole thing was wrong, it was a toxic never ending cycle, but still you could never help yourself when it came to her.

You and Yelena were together for three years, three years filled with love and lust and happiness; but then your relationship became hateful, bitter and full of anger, still the lust between the two of you remained the same.

Allegedly, the two of you had broken up 5 months ago. Allegedly, you resented her for the shit she put you through. Allegedly, you didn’t even want to see her face.

Nevertheless, she always found her way back to you, —back to your bed—. The moment her lips made contact with yours, you knew you had lost all sense of reason. How could you restrain yourself when her hips grazed against yours in a slowly almost painful yet divine pace that had you arching your back and curling your toes?

“Fuck,” you breathed out, as her hands thighten the frim grip on your waist.

You always promised yourself it would be the last time, that it was just your body reacting to hers, that you would be strong the next time and would turn her down. It took you a couple more slips to finally understand that you and Yelena were done, that the two of you were through. But you finally came to your senses.

“You do know this is the last time, right?” you said breathless, feeling your quick heartbeat in your eardrums.

You sword to yourself that would be the last time you let yourself give in to her. Just one more night of pleasure, just one more night of kisses and whimperings and moans, and the next day it would be over.

“Yeah, I know,” though her voice was muffled by your cunt you could still make out the sarcastic tone in her voice.

“I mean it, Yel,” you tried to sound serious, and apparently you did because she lifted up her head for her eyes to find yours.

“I know you do,” and she did know. She knew that you meant it, at that specific moment.

But she also knew your statement wouldn’t last long, that you would soon change your mind and her lips would find their way back to your neck, hips, thighs and cunt.

So she allowed you to think it was over, but it will be over once she decided so.

[...]

It’d been a year since you had last seen her, you thought that was it, that the two of you had moved on at last. But maybe you got it all wrong, maybe all the things she made you feel enhanced by being away from her, maybe you forced yourself to forget about her. But there was no point in trying it, for she had made a mark on your heart. Like a tattoo, always under skin even when it gets removed.

But tonight was supposed to be different, you were supposed to have fun, drink and dance with your girl friends. But for some odd reason you couldn't stop thinking about the blonde. You would mess around with some people, but you found yourself thinking that it wasn’t her hands roaming around your body, or her lips leaving kisses and bites all over your neck, it wasn't her scent and it most certainly wasn’t her hoarse voice reaching your ears.

As you and your friends made your way to the bar, you heard your phone ringing. Even before you took a look at the screen you were 100% sure that it was her calling you, who else could it be then?

Your heart picked up its pace as you looked at the ID caller and your suspicions were confirmed. It was at that moment that you realised that you had never blocked or deleted her contact number.

Before you could answer or decline the call, it stopped. You swallowed down the lump that hard formed on your throat, unsure of what would be next. And soon after it stopped you got a text from her, you were about to read it when you noticed that someone was calling out for you.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” you said, quickly putting away your phone, trying to focus on your friend’s words over the loud music.

“We have to use the restroom. Let’s go,” she said, reaching out for your hand, motioning for you to tag along.

“No,” you step back, away from her reach. “I, um,” you felt your phone burning your hand. “I’m going to get some air, okay?” you noticed she wanted to say something against it, so you quickly added: “I’ll be right back, I promise,” you smiled at them, before making your way out of the club before they would follow after you.

Once the cold air of the night filled your lungs you felt like you could finally breathe properly. You looked at her missed call and her text message on your phone screen, it was simple: an address. You knew what that meant, but you weren’t sure of what you should do. As if sensing your doubt, she called you again. The phone kept on ringing in your hand, as you made up your mind.

Seeing her tonight was a bad idea, right? Yes, you might not be really drunk but the alcohol was messing with your brain and you were not thinking straight. Plus, your friends were going to kill you for meeting her.

Seeing her tonight was a bad idea, right? You weren’t just going to throw away the last year and pretend like nothing had happened.

Seeing her would be a bad idea, right? But your mind had other plans as the memories of her soft lips and her rough hands and her raspy voice all came rushing to your brain, and suddenly it was all you could think of.

Seeing her tonight…? Fuck it, it’s fine, was your only thought as you picked up the call.

“Hello, detka.”

The old pet name sent a silver up your spine, still you were yet to form a coherent thought.

“I missed you,” she paused, waiting for you to say something. “Did you miss me?” she tried again. Still, you weren’t answering her, but she knew you were listening carefully to every word. “You know? I’m all alone right now. I wouldn’t mind some company.”

You could sense the undertone she was using, you were no fool to her tactics, even though you would always fall for them. That was the kind of power Yelena had over you, everytime you would do so much as think about her your brain would just shut down and you wouldn’t be able to hear your own thoughts.

“No,” you stated firmly. Shaking your head even though she could not see you.

“Oh, baby. What’s the matter? You want me to pick you up?” you could hear the jiggling of some set of keys. Your heart stopped for a second, was she really that desperate to come and pick you up? You felt your stomach burning.

“This is… This is not right, Yelena. I shouldn't have picked up the call. I should probably not—.”

“Oh, come on, moya lyubov,” again with the russian nickname that would make your knees weak. “How about this, I pick you up, we get some coffee and we just have a quick chitchat?”

You knew that it never was so simple with Yelena, but you felt your walls crashing down.

“I’m not sure, Yel…” it felt weird to pronounce that nickname after so long.

“Look up, pretty girl.”

You felt your stomach sink as you did as you were told. And there she was, in all her glory. You didn’t even question how she knew exactly where you were, Yelena just knew stuff. You knew she was your ex, but she said it was just a quick chat, can’t two people reconnect? You knew you were stronger now to her advances, you were pretty sure you only saw her as a friend. But, in all honesty, you knew you were full of shit.

Without a word, you sent a text to your friends, put your phone in your purse and got into the car, wrecking all your plans. You knew you should just stop, but you couldn't. You cursed yourself for that, she knew you too well and you hated both yourself and Yelena for that.

As soon as you took the passengers sit, Yelena sped up the car and the two of you left the building and your friends behind.

“I did miss you, Y/n,” was the first thing she said as she rested her hand on your thigh.

She knew how much you loved it when she did that.

“Mmm,” you muttered, unsure of what your answer should be.

“Didn’t you miss me?” she jokingly asked as she gently squeezed your skin.

“What do you want, Yel?”

“I thought I told you,” she quickly took a look at you before looking back at the road. “I just want to chat, that’s all.”

“It’s never that simple with you.”

“Well, maybe this time it is. Maybe this time I want things to be different,” she smiled at you, making your heart skip a beat. She still had that kind of power over you and you hated her even more for that. But not really.

You gently shook your head. It was bad, you shouldn’t have picked up the call, you shouldn't have gotten into the car. You should have thought things more clearly before letting her into your life again.

As you were mentally cursing yourself you didn’t realise that the two of you had already made it to whatever place she had driven the two of you. Realisation hit you as you now had now idea where the fuck you were, you had no other choice but to follow her. Or so you told yourself.

Yelena opened the car door for you and stretched her hand out for you to take. Which you did, you didn’t even fight it, you longed for the contact of her skin against yours. And maybe, just maybe, you thought it would be enough, just by intertwining your fingers in between hers. But, god, you were wrong.

You knew the moment you would step through her front door all sense of reason would leave your mind, and it would only remain the lust and feel of belonging you always felt around her. And you were right, the soon you stepped in, it was like you were that same person a year ago and you had no intention in fighting your feelings, not anymore. You thought maybe you deserve it, as a reward for being all this time apart from each other.

As soon as you entered it was as if you could feel Yelena everywhere. It wasn’t just the fact that she was there next to you with her hand in between yours, but you could all also smell her scent all over her place, you could see her in the furniture she had chosen, hear her in the music that was playing, and even though you had yet to taste her lips you were so overwhelmed by her entire being that it felt as if you already had.

“So, um,” she cleared her throat as she closed the door behind the two of you, getting your attention. “Would you like some coffee…?”

“Fuck it, it’s fine,” you mumbled to yourself once more before dropping your purse and shortening the distance and crashing your lips against hers.

Yelena’s hand quickly found their way to your hips, gently squeezing your flesh earning a low groan out of you. She pulled away gasping for air but the next second her lips were back on yours. You moaned into her lips as her tongue easily slipped into your mouth and found yours to mess around with.

You felt a warm feeling in your stomach as her hands roamed all over your body leaving goosebumps on their way. Then they rested on your ass, grabbing the muscle motioning for you to jump on top of her, which you did without a second thought. The feeling became a small fire in your stomach the moment your chest was pressed against hers.

“I knew you would come back,” she mumbled in between your lips, feeling her grin into the kiss.

As a response you bit her bottom lip, not really sure what you meant by that but it felt good when you heard a low moan escape from her lips.

“Don’t push your luck,” you said once you let go of it, earning a small chuckle from her.

“Yeah, you’re right, krasotka,” her thick russian was only fuel to the growing fire in your stomach.

Her lips found the crook of your neck and she left as many bites and kisses as she pleased, leading the two of you to her bedroom. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your fingers found their way in between her hair.

Once in her bedroom, Yelena gently laid you on her bed. As her lips made their way down to your collarbone, her hand tugged at the hem of your dress slowly and painfully bringing it up to your waist.

On command, you spread your leg open letting Yelena’s head take the place in between your thighs. She kissed and bit them, her lips ghosted over the area where you needed her the most, but all you got was her hot breath which sent a shiver up your spine and made you groan out her name.

“Stop with the teasing,” you begged her, as your legs rested on her shoulders.

“Tell me what you need,” she breathed out.

“I need you… I need your lips on me,” it almost came out as a moan.

And she did as she was told, but it wasn’t quite what you wanted. Her lips kissed and licked your core, but it wasn’t enough since the area was still being covered by your panties. You wanted more, needed more.

“Yelena, please…” you begged her once again.

“Shh…” she cooed as her fingers tugged at the hem of your underwear and slowly pushed it out of the way. “Is this where you need my lips, malishka,” her hot breath over your now uncovered cunt ripped a moan out of your mouth.

“Yes, yes, just please do something. Please, Yel, I—,” a whimper cut you off as you felt her tongue licked up your slit. “Fuck,” you could feel your heartbeat going a mile per hour.

Her tongue went up and down a few times, tasting your juices, loving who wet you were for her. She then made sure to give your clit as much attention, so she wrapped her lips around it and sucked hard. You felt your leg trembling on her shoulders as she worked her magic on you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you were a moaning mess, the fire in your stomach felt like it was taking over your entire body and you only wanted to give in, to let it consume you whole —to let Yelena consume you whole—.

You wrapped your legs around her head, bringing her even closer to you. The thought of her suffocating on your count scared you for half a second, but then as she ate you like a starving woman, the thought only added more to your arousal.

Yelena took a quick look at you: eyes closed, lips slightly trembling and parted, brows furrowed, your leg around her head, your hand flying to meet her hair. She wanted that moment to last forever, she wanted to be forever buried in between your legs if it only meant she could see you like this. But she could not stop time and live forever in that moment, so she could only moan at your sight. And that was what it took for you to finally come undone in her lips.

You cried out her name as your leg almost squeezed her head too harshly, but she could take it. A few curses followed her name as her tongue and lips helped you right out your high.

“I missed this, malishka,” she said breathlessly as you unwrapped your legs around her.

Her nose, lips and chin were glistening from your release, you felt something like a match lighting up inside you once again. Much to your dismay she used the back of her hand to clean some of it, which she noticed that it had bothered you since you slightly frown. She chuckled at just how cute and precious you were.

She crawled on top of you, placing her knee in between your legs and her lips found yours. You moaned as you tasted yourself on her lips and tongue, feeling the fire coming back to life.

“I missed you… so much,” she said in between kisses. “Tell me… you missed me too…”

Drunk on her scent, lips and words you couldn’t think properly. But still the words you blurted out were the truth: “I did… I missed you too…”

“Then we should… make up for… the time we lost…'' she said as her hand expertly tugged down the cleavage of your dress, she smiled to herself as she realised you weren’t wearing a bra.

She trailed a path of kiss from your neck, down to your collarbone to finally end with her lips sucking your right nipple.

“Yeah, we should…” you breathed out.

“Then, we are going to be here for a while,” she said, her words were muffled by your tit inside her mouth.

You giggled at her words but then it turned into a moan as she went on sucking.

You knew the whole thing would fire back eventually, but your head was empty, blank, no reasonable thoughts. Just one that it keep you going and that was the only thought you were willing to listen to: ‘Fuck it, it’s fine.’

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

-M

#yelena belova #yelena belova x fem reader #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x y/n #yelena belova imagine #yelena belova smut #florence pugh #florence pugh x reader #florence pugh imagine #littlexscarletxwitch's fic #[🎧⊹♡] based on songs i love #Spotify

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clarissesrealwife · 20 days

Note

Sub tomboy reader x soft Dom! Abby or Hazel

Rest is up to you! 💗

Tell ur girlfriend☆

A/n - yall this MIGHT suck but js work with me okay😢😢(there's a cliffhanger but I promise there will be pt.2🥳🥳)

Warnings - breakups, making out, cheating🌚, reader has a bf, arguing

Summary - you and hazel were originally js study buddies in relationships but things escalated...

Last month you had realized your grades were dropping, thinking nothing of it you continued your life as normal. But last week you had failed your history test, this resulted in a hour long lecture from your parents and a long call with your best friend hazel who offered to help you with your work everyday after school.

"So we still studying tonight?" Hazel asks as you two walk to hazels next class "yeah of course!" You reply. Your about to say something else when Hazel's girlfriend(Mia) walks over, Taking hazels hand in hers while standing on her tippy toes to give Hazel a kiss on her cheek, she's so annoying I don't understand how Hazel puts up with her I just wish she would breakup with her alre-

Your thoughts are interrupted by your boyfriend hugging your waist from behind "hey babe" he says while kissing your cheek.

"oh hey! I heard you got a A on your test?" You question playfully while turning around to face your boyfriend of 7 months.

"Yeah I did and my mom said as a reward we're going out of town for the weekend so I don't think we can hangout tomorrow" you could tell he was hiding something or atleast wasn't telling you the full story but you didn't want to question him about it right now as you had to finish your conversation with hazel.

"Oh well I have to go talk to haz-" your words slow down as you turn around and don't see hazel anywhere. mia must've taken her to makeout.

"Nevermind I guess her and Mia left. Wanna walk me to class?" You ask Lucas.

"Of course babe".

After your last class was finally over you decided to go and wait outside the gym as you know she has a fight club or whatever they call it after school.

30 minutes and it's finally over. Hazel walks out and you call her over as she didn't see you.

"Hey haze! You ready to go?" You ask her while slightly tilting your head in a questioning way.

"Yeah let's go I have lots of homework to do".

"Shit" Hazel says while searching her backpack as if she's lost something.

"What's wrong haze?" You ask as your getting worried by the expression on her face.

"I just forgot my phone in the gym" she says while leaning back into the seat. You start admiring her, wondering how some 3/10 girl who is to "girly" in ur opinion pulled a gorgeous 10000/10 women who you would let do anything to you

Your slowly processing her words as your to focused on her facial features. But once it finally hits you your quick to offer getting it for her.

"I could go get it" you say a little to fast, fast enough she giggled while saying "Yeah that's fine with me".

A little flustered, you get out the car and go back into the building as it was still open.

Walking to fast for your legs liking you finally reach the gym. After 3 minutes of searching you find the familiar phone that you've seen and used many times as you have a habit of forgetting to charge yours.

Just as your about to walk out you hear people talking. As a natural instinct of a person who has social anxiety you decided to stay there until they leave.

2 minutes have passed and they're still there. You started actually listening 30 seconds ago as you realized it was your boyfriend, Lucas and his friends.

"Shes kind of stupid I don't know why she would belive something like that" one of Lucas's friends say. Assuming they're talking about someone else's girlfriend you continue to listen.

"Yeah honestly I didn't think it was gonna be that easy. I'm just excited to hangout with Maddie tomorrow" You recognize this voice, This is a voice you've talked to many times, A voice you trust, no trusted because you realize this is your boyfriends voice your hearing.

Although tears are beginning to form in your eyes you continue to listen as you want to get the full story.

Another 4 minutes and they finally leave. You open the door to the gym slightly and look around to make sure no one is there. When confirmed you walk to the main school doors. Quickly jogging to Hazel's car.

"Here" you say bluntly as you hand Hazel her phone. "What's wrong y/n?" Hazel says as she tucks a peice of your hair behing your ear.

"Can we talk about this later?" You say as you look into her eyes. Your eyes are red so she can obviously tell you've been crying.

After a few seconds of her debating whether to drop it or not she decideds she'll just bring it up later at your house

It's been 2 hours and hazel had just finished her last sentence for her homework. You on the other hand finished it in 30 minutes. Scrolling on tiktok waiting untill she's done. She finally says "I'm finished!".

"God that took forever" you say while rolling your eyes. "Shut up you love my company" she says while pushing ur chest away in a playful way.

It was just silent for a while after that, nobody knew what to say or maybe they were just preparing themselves for what was next to be said.

"So what happened ealier" Hazel said quietly, you almost didn't hear her, but you did which means you had to answer.

"Hes cheating on me" You say with a loud sigh.

"WHAT WITH WHO?!?" Hazel practically screams. You slightly luagh at her loudness untill you remember what this conversation is about.

"With Maddie" You slightly shift so you're in a more comfortable position on the bed

"Really? I didn't even think they talked"

"Me neither, but here we are"

It's silent.

Not an akward kind of silence though.

One that makes you want to go to sleep.

The one that makes everything okay.

You find comfort in the silence with hazel.

Untill she speaks up.

"I'd never do that to you" she whispers. Your face heats up what did she mean by that you wonder, but right now your main focus is making sure she doesn't see how red your face is.

"What do you mean?" You question while sitting up, putting all ur weight on your elbows while staring at her, trying to keep eye contact but she just won't look at you.

"Cheat. I wouldn't cheat on you" She finally looks at you. But all of a sudden your confidence dissappears and you lay back down and turn away from hazel.

Hazel doesn't like that and grabs you so you're facing her again. You're both laying on your sides staring at eachother. Your eyes flick to her lips and back up God I hope she didn't see that . "Whatcha thinking about?"

"You"

#hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #bottoms movie #cliffhanger #uhm #hazel callahan x you

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box-dwelling · 8 months

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This needs to be made. WAA (and extended family, we may get too big for one party but this may get split over a few groups) and who I think everyone would play. Also presuming 5e for the system.

Phoenix: cleric. 1000000% with his obsession with helping people? Absolutely wants to be the healer and the cleric spell list gives a lot of options for chaotic play.

Trucy: a coward would say sorcerer. They are wrong. She is a forever DM. Don't forget she isn't just a performer, she's also a stage director. Plus her desire to constantly cheer up her friends translates perfectly into campaign design. I think he has special effects set up and has Mr Hat come out for scenes with 2 NPCs

Apollo: there are two choices. Either he's never played before and is just a begrudging human fighter, or he and Clay used to play all the time and he comes in with the most insanely fleshed out well constructed min max multiclass you've ever seen. But it's not like an annoying minmax where it take away from the other players, it's min maxed in a way to cover the rest of the parties flaws and actively heighten them all. It is a solid 50/50 he either gives no shits or gives the most shits ever

Athena: barbarian. She is using this to get out her aggression and good for her.

Pearl: she's new at this and kinda nervous but I think she has a cute little elven druid made up. She was going to go cleric but didn't want to step on Phoenix's toes.

Maya: Sorcerer and an absolute powerhouse of one at that.

Ema: Wizard. Fully roleplays the whole scholar of magic vibe too.

Edgeworth: the most paladin paladin player to ever play. His character is mounted because of his knight chess thing and they start off heavily based off a steel samurai character but I think he then uses it to channel some of his feelings about mvk so he may well go oathbreaker somewhere down the line

Klavier: Do I need to say it? Bard. Horniest horny bard you ever saw. But I think he keeps it relatively pg for trucys NPC's and focuses his flirting solely on Apollo.

Simon: samurai fighter. Edgy backstory. Actively causes chaos at all times.

Franziska: is invite but doesn't play.

#ace attorney #miles edgeworth #phoenix wright #apollo justice #klavier gavin #klapollo #athena cykes #trucy wright #maya fey #pearl fey #franziska von karma #simon blackquill

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torusuki · 9 months

Text

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ BLOODY INJURY ─ bakugou katsuki x fem!reader. sfw. hurt/comfort. not proofread.

“babe, m’home!” the gruff and slightly deep voice of bakugou filled your ears, the front door shut closed and from the foyer, he emerged.

you quickly placed your phone on the coffee table with a small smile covering your features, meeting him halfway and trapping him in a warm embrace — not forgetting to place a affectionate kiss on his jaw which always made his heart flutter. he wore his hero suit and without a once of hesitation, he wrapped his arms around the small of your back.

“i’ve missed you…” you muttered. he was a bit sweaty from his patrol but you did not mind. in fact, you were relieved. he had managed to arrive home safe and sound.

or, that’s what you thought.

“tch. missed you, t—ow!” his once calm and content expression he had as he held you shifted into one of pain, bits of his blonde hair fell on his forehead from his sweat.

you pulled away once you heard his exclaim of pain and looked at him with concern. “what is it? are you hurt, ‘suki?”

bakugou grunted a incoherent response and when he saw your concerned expression, he repeated his words again. “m’fine. a villain just landed a hint on me, s’all. it’s just a small cut.”

you furrowed your brows and his hands went to the sides of your face, kissing the spot between them.

“don’t furrow your brows, you’ll get wrinkles.”

the frown that always decorated his complexion was gone as he felt your delicate fingers glide through the spot between his eyebrows, a faint smile decorating his face while his vermilion-colored eyes watched your every feature that had changed a lot since you both were in high school.

his admiring was cut short when he felt you tug on his arms. “hey–the fuck!” the blonde cursed as his girlfriend dragged him along and into the small restroom.

“the hell are y’doing??” he grumbled, curing at you as you sat him on the countertop near the sink. “i told you, m’fukcing fine!”

you stayed silent and rolled your eyes – the ongoing habit that you’ve used after you turned into a teenager. “shut up and let me check your cut.” eyes trailing to his abdomen where a spot of red liquid covered his hero suit.

“it’s jus’ a small cut,” you mocked his words. “you’re fucking bleeding!” she raised her voice, tugging on the grenade-like gauntlets he has.

“careful, woman!” he warmed, gripping your wrist to stop your hands from fiddling with his gauntlets, his thumb rubbing your skin. “careful with them. y’don’t want to set them off by accident.”

his hands gripped hers for a moment longer before he let go of her wrists and started to take off his gauntlets with cautious and gentle movements.

“there…” he spoke up, placing the gauntlets down and focusing his attention on you. “if it’ll make you feel better, i’ll let you have a look.”

bakugou reached for the hem of his suit, pulling it off of his muscular body, giving his girlfriend a clear view of his fresh cut right on the middle of his abdomen. a soft gasp left your lips, seeing the skin around the cut red and tainted with crimson. he watched your reaction, a bit annoyed by your worries about his cut. it was just a small cut.

even though the two of you had been dating for a while now, bakugou still had a lot of opening up to do. he didn’t like when people worried about him, it made him feel like he was being looked down on — he knew you didn’t mean to make him feel like that, but he still had a bit of his sixteen-year-old self in him. he still had some growing to do.

you fumbled through the small cabinet above bakugou, reaching for the first aid kit and standing on your tippy toes. bakugou found it cute how small you are. It made him want to hold her close and never let go, feeling a bit guilty for thinking that she was looking down on him.

he let out a shaky sigh when you dabbed the alcohol wiped over his cut. “fuckin’ alcohol! it stings like a bitch!” he groaned, strong hands gripping the edge of the countertop.

“stop whining, ‘suki,” you mumbled, running your hands on the cut with the alcohol wipe. “didn’t you say you have a high pain tolerance?”

your eyes looked up at him and bakugou huffed. “shut up!” giggled soon replenished his ears and the sound felt like a heaven-sent melody to him.

“your s’cute when you laugh like that.” his voice was barely audible, a hand reaching away from the counter and to the nape of her reck. there was no hesitation, no mock in his words — he meant what he said. he loves your laugh.

with pink dusted cheeks, your fingers pressed hard on his cut making him yell and scrunch his nose in pain. you didn’t mean to do that. he just caught you off guard with his words.

“shit—sorry!” you apologized, discarding the wipe wet with alcohol. your lips found the tip of his nose that was scrunched up, placing a quick kiss on it to try and make it up to him.

“tch. whatever…” he uttered, trying to hide the way his cheeks were now just as pink as yours.

a cheeky grin covered your lips, hands fumbling with the first aid kit. he felt how your fingers worked on his stomach, watching you patch him up with a soft expression on his face, tips of his fingers rubbing the skin on your neck – leaving goosebumps with every trace of his touch.

once you were done, you placed your palms on his thighs, big doe eyes staring at his. “y’have to be careful out there, ‘suki. i know getting hurt in a fight with a villain is inevitable…” her voice was meek as if she were scared of seeing him hurt (which she actually is). “but, ‘just—”

bakugou cut her off with a light peck on your lips. “s’okay, angel.” he got off of the counter and placed his hands on your hips, giving them a light squeeze. “don’t worry. i have you to come home every night. i can’t afford to get hurt badly, wouldn’t want to leave you waiting, huh?”

his eyes glittered with love and affection pressing his forehead to yours. “i promise, i’ll always come back to you, angel. y’know, i can’t live without you, m’sweet girl.”

bakugou placed a peck on your forehead and soon after, he connected his lips with yours, sealing his promise with a heart-fluttering kiss.

#.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒖𝒌𝒊 !#౨ my hero academia ৎ #fluff #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou x fem!reader #bnha bakugo katsuki

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save-the-villainous-cat · 1 year

Note

How about some hurt/comfort about a sleep-deprived villain?

Convincing themselves that they were fine was easier than accepting that there was something unhealthily, severely and unmistakably wrong with them. In the back of their mind, it was normal to stay up for 22 hours a day. Not to mention that this had been going on for months.

What should’ve been a wake-up call left them yearning and moody. One time they’d seen the hero break into their apartment, their fingers sprinkled with blood, their suit glued to their muscles. The villain had wanted to jump up and confront them but they’d been much too flustered to do anything.

As if they were living together, the hero had taken their clothes off. They’d kissed the villain. Pushed them into the pillows. Gotten on top.

Two days later, the villain had mentioned it. And as the hero stared at them, blushing from head to toe, muttering that they were out with friends at that time, the villain noticed that there was something terribly weird going on. It had been a hallucination. A good one. So good that they wished it was real.

Some sick part of their brain thought that if they slept less, they’d get more of these. But they didn’t. Slowly, they found themselves hallucinating more. Creatures in the dark corners of their rooms, their food rotting in their fridge after a day, dead animals on their balcony. The villain considered doing some extreme things, going as far as using alcohol to end their suffering.

Eventually they didn’t. They deserved this.

One restless night, the hero showed up on their porch and in all their delusion, the villain was sure they were a hallucination, too.

“Hey.”

The villain didn’t answer.

“You lost your weapon today.”

What?

“When we were fighting in the parking lot. You lost it.”

“That’s why you’re here?” the villain asked, still not entirely convinced that this wasn’t only happening in their mind. They imagined what it would feel like if the hero pushed them against the door in this very moment.

The last months had been ridiculously lonely. A single one-night stand was all the physical touch they’d gotten over this time. After that they’d felt horrible. Sleeping with a stranger didn’t feel at all like they’d expected.

“No, actually…what you said about me coming over to yours brought me here.” The villain looked up from the spot they’d glared at.

“Forget about that. It was just a silly dream.” They were about to throw the door into the hero’s face but their enemy stepped into their house, foot holding the door open.

“I know you’ve lost your sidekick,” the hero said.

A punch to the throat would’ve been less painful. The villain’s grip on the door handle tightened until their knuckles turned as white as chalk.

Pushing it away was hurtful but not as hurtful as this. Confronting it. Thinking about it. It was so real yet so difficult to grasp. Understanding that someone is gone needs time and the villain simply hadn’t allowed themselves to take it.

They’d been so young.

“I…” A headache formed behind their forehead. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

“I lost my first sidekick, too. It broke me,” the hero said. “I did some…questionable things while I was grieving. I’m not proud of it and they certainly didn’t help.”

“I’m okay,” the villain lied. “Don’t worry your pretty little head.”

“I can’t watch you destroy yourself.”

“Why not? Goal achieved.” The hero took another step and walked into the villain’s house faster than the villain thought to be possible.

“Because I save people. I don’t want to destroy them.”

Then where were you when they died? The villain didn’t say it out loud. Accusations wouldn’t bring them back.

“Please let me help you,” the hero whispered.

“Is this to clean your own conscience?” the villain asked.

“Actually, it’s because I like you.”

The villain froze.

“I can’t sleep,” they confessed. “I get two hours per night if I’m good.”

“Alright, I’m gonna run a bath for us. You need to relax,” the hero said, inviting themselves in. The villain could only stare as they walked past them.

I’m gonna run a bath for us.

For us.

#made it spicy cuz why not #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request #angst #h/c

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jxydiel · 11 months

Text

Dean winchester x trans male!reader

I believe it can also be read as not romantic but Dean use a lot of sweet nicknames.

Note : I was really uncomfortable today and I needed some comfort so I wrote this. English is not my first language so sorry if there’s mistake

Tw: dysphoria, I don’t know if it’s a bit angst at the beginning since (y/n) is really uncomfortable with himself.

But technically it’s just fluff because I needed it x)

It was summer and the sun was blasting horribly armed with his warmth. (Y/N) could see by the window of ‘baby’, people sweating even in shorts and t-shirt and that was so mood wrenching. Everything was shining brightly hurting his eyes.

Dean was blasting some Metallica, humming and tapping the steering wheel rhythmically while Sam was side eyeing him. They were all out on the hunt heading to some ladies house for investigation. Strange things have been seen and it was their duty to take care of it.

Sam was the one who founded the case while reading some news paper. It was easy, not nerve wreaking. It was supposed to be a nice and calm day. If only that was really true.

When (Y/N) was preparing himself to go, he knew how hot it was today and putting just some pants and a t-shirt would seem to be a good idea but something was feeling so wrong. He was watching himself, in the mirror of that impersonal bathroom, from head to toe. He couldn’t help himself but to feel disgusted, maybe the pants were too tight or the shirt stopped too high showing his hips way too much or even his chest was showing off too much. The young man didn’t found his binder in his stuff and didn’t wanted to make the two Winchester wait so he just told himself that everything was fine even tho it was not. He tried to forget all the thoughts and doubts he had and left the bathroom. (Y/N) definitely hated summer and that was even an understatement.

That’s how he ended being so grumpy and uncomfortable in the back of that car, pulling his shirt away from his body. On normal days he would have been singing with Dean way too loudly, annoying Sam but today he was way too silent to the brothers liking. Something was off with the boy and they both knew it but no one asked for now.

The three of them arrived at the house and (Y/N) was already regretting getting out of his sit. He felt naked, like everyone was watching at him intensively. That was kind of suffocating. Everything was awful, everything was so wrong with him. His head was looking down at his body and he knew he made a big mistake. He just wanted to become invisible right now and just go back home.

The brothers were waiting for him in the most complete silence and he joined them when he realised, ashamed. Dean knocked on the door after looking at (Y/N) with unspoken worries. The woman opened the door and stared at the three mans heavily. (Y/N) didn’t wanted to be there, he wanted to escape and go back in the car where he felt more safe. The gaze of that woman was burning his skin.

Dean took care of explaining everything at her and she let them enter the place. Sam started the little questioning after she let them sit on the old sofa, the fabric of which seemed to escape, revealing the moss inside. Being sat made it a bit better for (Y/N) but he was still absent, not concentrate on anything that was being said. He couldn't stop thinking about his appearance, his thoughts tormenting him relentlessly. He was playing with his hands trying to be forgotten, be the ghost they were hunting. The older brother put an hand on his shoulder and whispered “Are you alright sweetheart?” The young man startled, not expecting any touch and only nodded in return not wanting to worry any of them but it was kind of late for that knowing the look on dean’s face.

The latter tried to focus on the business but seeing (Y/N) like this was making it hard. The two of them were so close that they technically never needed to speak to each other to know that something was off. He whispered again softly to the young man by his side “follow me” and left the couch heading outside. When something was wrong, he had to fix it as soon as possible, as he couldn't bear to see the other unhappy. “We’re coming back” he warned his lil’ brother and the client. (Y/N) didn’t wanted to stand up because he would become more visible, at the mercy of all judgment. but he did follow Dean outside the house. He would do anything for Dean and vice versa.

The older brother stood in the front yard with a concerned frown as (Y/N) got closer to him. He clearly noticed how the other was endlessly adjusting his shirt again and again avoiding his eyes and he just realised what was happening. Dean didn’t needed to ask anything, he just took off his jacket and put it on the other’s shoulders. “Here you go my handsome man” Strangely Dean was always wearing something on top of his shirt even in summer and he was thanking himself for this on the moment.

(Y/N) smiled at Dean, hiding himself in the big jacket. He whispered “thank you” and Dean answered an “Of course love”. (Y/N) put the jacket correctly and yes it was definitely better but even tho, now, he was just feeling like a fraud. The young man sighed and apologised for creating some kind of problems but Dean reacted so quickly “Eh you have nothing to be sorry for, it’s not your fault Okay ?” (Y/N) simply nodded in response. Dean put his hand on the head of the other caressing his hair with the utmost gentleness.

“Do you want me to drive you back to the motel ? We can let Sam take care of this.” Dean asked after a long silence. (Y/N) wanted to say yes so much but he didn’t wanted to bother the two mans. It was work right now, he needed to be professional. “No, I don’t want to bother. I’m alright now.” He simply responded. “You’re never bothering sweetheart you know that. Are you sure ?” “Yes don’t worry about it. Thank you tho.” And they both went inside the house again.

When they came back inside the woman asked them if they wanted to drink something and misgendered (Y/N). She didn’t knew. It wasn’t her fault. But (Y/N)’s heart broke in pieces and everything was so wrong again. Sam was the one who corrected her pretty quickly and she apologised. “It’s fine. You don’t need to apologise.” Replied the young man to relieve her. However, when (Y/N) looked up at Dean he saw his murderous gaze that was frightening the client horribly and it made him chuckle a bit. “Don’t stare like that. It’s fine” (Y/N) pushed Dean’s shoulder playfully trying to reassure him but his eyes were still sad and the other saw it.

“Well we’re leaving the questionary to our associate there’s other thing we need to take care of.” Dean announced pointing Sam. The lil’ bro nodded agreeing with no words to Dean’s decision. They both knew it was for the better. The big brother left the house with a quick goodbye and (Y/N) followed again. “But I said I was fine staying.” Dean stopped walking and looked at him. “I’m doing it for me, I would have killed her.” And it was half a lie.

(Y/N) smiled brightly at Dean and entered the car next to the taller one. When Sam wasn’t there the front sit was his. And sometimes even when Sammy was there they switched places.

Dean drove quite quickly to the motel and when he entered the bedroom he went directly to his stuff to found some clothes of his. He knew (Y/N) always liked wearing his clothes when he was feeling down. It gave him some more comfort. He threw the clothes at the boy who escaped in the bathroom. The young man was back a small time after and Dean was looking at him sitting on the bed. “Are you feeling better ?” The latter asked with a serious frown. “Yes thank you Dean. You’re the best.” (Y/N) replied sitting by his sides. “I know” They both smirked and laughed. Dean felt a little helpless when this happened because no one could control it, but he would give everything he had so that (Y/N) would never have to feel so bad again.

“You’re the most handsome man on this planet I hope you know that.” Dean stated genuinely going for a hug. (Y/N) hugged him back tightly, hiding himself in the bigs arms of the other. He was feeling safe now. Everything would be alright. They both lay down on the bed while the older brother turn the TV on for some ridiculous but funny show to change the other mind. “Sammy will call when he’s done. I will help him with the rest but you can stay here” (Y/N) nodded. “Okay. Be careful you two” “we always are no worries.” They both smiled at each other and (Y/N)‘s head rested on Dean’s chest hearing his heart beat fast as he breath in and out. “Next time something like that happens don’t wait that long. We will, Me and Sam, always do anything for you to be comfortable.” “Yes, thank you Dean.” They rested like that for a while Dean making sure (Y/N) was laughing and feeling better until it was time for him to go help his brother.

#dean x reader #dean winchester #supernatural #dean winchester x male reader #supernatural x male reader #sam winchester #dean x male reader #supernatural dean

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