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marshmallow-phd · 3 years

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Healing Touch

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Wolf!AU

Pairing: Yixing x Reader

Summary: Medical school abroad was the last line on your to-do list before starting the rest of your life. Everything was going according to plan. Everything, that is, until tragedy strikes your campus. In the wake of a professor’s untimely death, you’re partnered with the cute boy with a breathtaking smile in the newly combined labs. You find yourself unable to resist the dimples and shy glances, but his life is here with no plans of leaving. Will you continue on as planned or will you accept the hand that Fate had dealt you?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I Final

You were anxious, but you couldn’t describe exactly why. Was it as narrowed down to Ran and Yixing simply interacting? The two worlds colliding? Or was it as broad as the fact that Yixing was stepping into your apartment?

The place wasn’t dirty. Both you and Ran were diligent on keeping on top of the dishes and dusting. You weren’t necessarily the “make your bed everyday” type, but it wasn’t too much of a jumble of sheets. There were no leftovers out on the counter or crusted plates in the sink. The air smelled of artificial citrus thanks to the plug-in that Ran kept up with on a steady rotation.

Ran ushered everyone in and then closed the door with no concern of a noise level. “Pizza should be here any minute.” The only responses she received were silent nods.

It was awkward as the three of you stood around, no one talking, no one moving towards the available seating in the living room. Ran often brought friends over and they naturally made themselves at home. Whenever Victoria or Amber were in town, you met up with them at coffee shops or restaurants serving brunch. Your apartment was not a typical place to congregate. It was your sanctuary, the place you went to in order to get away. Now the outside world was coming in and you weren’t sure what to do.

“Yixing, you want a drink?” Ran offered.

He nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

Ran shot you a very pointed look before whisking off to the kitchen. Yixing’s eyes roamed over the mostly empty walls. Neither you nor Ran were good with tools so ramming a nail into plaster didn’t seem like a logical way to spend an afternoon. Any decorating done to give the apartment a homey feel was done on the side and coffee tables. Ran’s novels were stacked in with your medical textbooks for easy reaching. Picture frames containing silly faces and fond memories sat on top of the wooden surfaces. Your favorite was the one of you and your aunt mid laugh, soaking wet from the water ride that had splashed from behind. Wherever you went, that picture went too. Yixing found it after a few seconds, walking over to it like in a trance. He picked up the cheap, plastic black frame with a gentle hand. A dimple made an appearance in his right cheek as he studied the photo.

“You look like you had fun.”

A small laugh pushed out as the memories of that trip flashed through your mind like a PowerPoint. Lost chargers, multiple changes of clothes from water rides and dropped ice creams, and dozens of wrong turns to get to the right ride. Neither you nor your aunt were good at working the app made for the amusement park, but that only added to the adventure.

“We did,” you replied. “That was right before my freshman year here. One last hurrah before moving on to adulthood.” That was what your aunt had said, anyway, though both of you knew she meant it sarcastically. She didn’t believe in full adulthood. A little bit of childishness was necessary to live life to the fullest – a concept that you couldn’t quite fully understand in words but could when you were looking at her. Yixing nodded, the smile growing by a few centimeters as he set the frame down again. Ran entered from the kitchen and handed him a steaming mug of fresh tea. You nearly hid your face in your shirt when you noticed which cup Ran had chosen or the gesture of a gracious host.

Little chibi figures depicting characters from your favorite drama danced around the porcelain mug. It was cute in your eyes when you’d ordered it from the online shop. Now, it was mortifying. You just hoped that Yixing assumed that it was Ran’s and that Ran didn’t mention anything to the contrary.

“Thank you.” Yixing blew on the steam that danced from the caramel colored liquid and took a sip small enough for a mouse. Still, no one sat. Ran glanced at you with a curious expression. If she was telling you to do something, you weren’t able to pick up on what that thing might be. Miraculously, you were saved by the door knock.

Ran shuffled over to the door to answer it. Yixing leaned down and placed the mug on the coffee table and that’s when it hit you.

He still wasn’t wearing a shirt.

Grabbing his wrist, you pulled him into your bedroom while Ran was distracted with the delivery guy. You let go of Yixing and started rifling through your closet for a more unisex shirt.

“What’s wrong?” Yixing asked right behind you.

You jumped at his sudden closeness but didn’t look behind you. “You’re still just wearing the jacket. When Ran notices, she’ll start asking questions.” Your fingers landed on an old band t-shirt that you hadn’t worn in a while. The black was a neutral color and most of the wording was faded. You doubt Ran would recognize it. “Here. Put this on.”

Seemingly laughing at you in his head, Yixing smiled and unzipped his jacket.

The first time you’d seen him shirtless, you were too distracted by the hiker to take real notice. Now that he was the only one around and standing in your bedroom… heat exploded all over your body. And the jerk seemed to notice as he took his time to take off the jacket and push his head through the shirt. You scurried around him and poked your head out of your room just in time to see Ran hand over the tip, closing the door with the pizza boxes in hand.

“Smells good,” Yixing commented as he snuck up behind you once again. He really needed to stop doing that.

“And its still warm, too,” Ran cooed, having heard him. She took a long whiff. You couldn’t help but take one, too. Delicious. Your mouth was already swimming when you sat down at the table. You didn’t even remember telling your feet to move. Ran grabbed plates from the cabinet before flipping open the lids, engulfing the apartment with that familiar scent. “Bon appetite!”

“Thank you for dinner,” Yixing said again. He was always so polite. It was endearing. So much so that you had paused midbite and started staring at him with a grin of your own pulling at your lips’ corners.

Ran chewed through a mouthful before answering. “No problem. You just have really good timing.”

A silence that you couldn’t quite call comfortable settled over the meal. You thought over and over of what you could say to continue a conversation, but all options fell flat. The consequence of that? Ran jumping in.

“So, Yixing, how do you know (y/n)?”

“We have class together,” he explained, not bothered at all by the questionnaire he was about to receive. Or he was simply unaware that this might only be the beginning.

“Which one?”

“Human physiology.”

Ran’s eyebrows shot up. “The one that just combined? So, did you have the other professor?”

Yixing nodded solemnly. “I did.” Though there were still several bites left of his current slice, he put it down and folded his fingers with his elbows resting on the table. “She was a good teacher.”

“That’s what I heard a lot,” Ran agreed. “It’s scary what’s going on. You never know who’s going to be next. I heard that there might have been another attack today.”

You looked at Yixing thinking that he would do the same given your shared knowledge that there was indeed another attack, but he didn’t turn his head in the slightest. He kept staring at the table. You knew this was bothering him. It was written in every facet of his posture and face. But Ran didn’t seem to notice.

“I think they should send the rangers out and put down the animal. I mean, I hate to kill anything that is just living its life, but there’s obviously something wrong with it. Like it went mad or something. Putting it out of its misery might be—”

“Ran, do you have plans tonight?” you jumped in.

Ran blinked as her mind quickly changed gears. “Yeah. Hae In is picking me up in a few minutes and we’re going to go out. You two are welcome to join us.”

“That’s okay,” you answered for both of you. “Thanks, though.”

Ran grinned cheekily. “I kind of figured.”

A quick succession of knocks rattled from the front door. Ran leapt up and ushered her friend inside.

Hae In, a girl whose personality was as bright as her blonde hair, waved excitedly at you and Yixing. “Hey! Ooo, that looks good!” She was quickly distracted by the pizza, grabbing a slice as soon as Ran gave her the okay. She swallowed down a few bites. “I’m Hae In, by the way,” she said to Yixing. “Are you (y/n)’s friend?”

“Yes, I am,” he said, a bit his previous light coming back. “I’m Yixing.” Standing up, he held out his hand for her to take.

“Nice to meet you,” Hae In shook his hand after wiping the grease off on an unused napkin.

“We should probably get going,” Ran suggested. “You know Marnie will take forever and we want to get there before they start charging covers.”

“No kidding,” Hae In giggled. She waved goodbye and followed Ran out the door.

Yixing turned to you. “They seemed nice.”

“They are,” you nodded as you stood to your feet and started clearing the table of the dirty dishes. Yixing was soon on his own feet, helping by moving all the leftover pizza into one box and then closing the lid so it could fit in the fridge. You rinsed off the plates, the water plashing all over the counter. After a quick clean up, you put the plates in the dishwasher. Yixing had moved on to the living room. He was seated on the couch, leaning forward with his forearms resting on his thighs and looking deep in thought. You sat down beside him. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah,” he said none-too-convincingly. He sat up so he was now sitting back into the couch. “I’m okay. It’s just been… a day.”

You snorted. “Yeah, you can say that again.”

He didn’t respond to what you had said. He changed the subject in a sharp turn. “This shirt’s comfortable.”

You frowned, confused. “Yeah, its old so its been washed a few times. But it was soft like that when I bought it.” What were you even saying? Why were the two of you talking about your shirt? Honestly, you wanted to forget for a second that he was wearing your clothes at all. Because then you mind drifted to what was underneath the cloth.

“I think I’ve heard of this band,” Yixing said as he tugged on the front where the members were proudly displayed in a tough-guy fashion. There were a few breaks in the plastic-y photo that split some of the faces at odd angles. “They’re a pop group, right?”

You cleared your throat as you shifted in your seat. “Yeah. I guess you could call them that.” Why were you suddenly dying of humiliation? Why should you have any anxiety over what music you liked? One fear might have been that he was one of those people who looked down on others for liking such “shallow music.” You never thought the group in that way. If the vocals were good, who cared if the songs were mostly about love? “I like them anyway.”

To your surprise, Yixing was smiling. “I like them, too.”

In your heart, you were sure he was saying something else. Implying someone else that he really liked.

Or maybe that was just wishful thinking. Because… well, you were realizing that you liked him. Very much. More than a friend. You liked Yixing. And you wanted him to like you, too. While you weren’t a mind reader, you thought that maybe there was a chance that he already did.

Going with the second thought that popped into your head, you looked at him shyly. “Thanks for coming along when you did, by the way. I don’t think I would have been to get him help in time if you hadn’t.”

Instead of returning your soft expression, Yixing remained stoic. He reached out and touched your cheek with the tips of his fingers. They were warm against your skin – No, not warm. Even with the minimal contact, you could feel the fire. It felt like a constant wave of sunshine pulsing into your skin. By sheer instinct, you leaned in deeper to his touch. That was encouragement enough for him to shift so now his palm was against your cheek. The reaction to pull away coursed in your mind, but you couldn’t bring it to fruition. If it had been anyone else, you would have been up and off that couch, putting plenty of room between you and them. But with Yixing… you simply wanted to move closer.

And someone did.

You weren’t sure if it was you or him – your money would have been on a mutual understanding, an equal pull that shifted both of you like magnets. But there was no gnashing of teeth or crumpling of shirts. It was a softer collision. A hesitant one. Your hands dug into the cushion to force you not to move as his lips brushed against yours. When he pressed more, his other hand came up and pulled you in closer by your hip. You didn’t resist, encompassing the space that was his lap.

That fire – that heat and warmth like a log alite on a winter’s day – was everywhere now. But just as it was growing, it was also drifting farther back in your mind. Yixing’s presence, his touch, was consuming your thoughts. You were not the kind of person who did this. You shied away from intimate moments like this. The weeks you had known Yixing were short, but that felt like a detail of little consequence. You believed yourself safe in his embrace.

The kiss ended abruptly. With hands that were simultaneously harsh and gentle, Yixing removed you from his lap, placing you on the cushion beside him. He gave no explanation for his sudden switch in direction. You weren’t sure what for, but the urge to apologize was swelling up, like you were the only one who had crossed a line.

“I’m… sorry.”

Yixing rubbed his eyes, releasing a sigh. “No. Don’t be. I just… I need to figure some things out first.”

“Some… things?” Was he… already seeing someone else? That’s what that usually meant, right? In all this time, he had never mentioned having a girlfriend. He wouldn’t have let you borrow his jacket if there was a chance that another girl might see it. Unless— unless she didn’t go to the university in town and they were in a long-distance relationship? The more you thought about it, the more your stomach was beginning to churn.

“I know that’s— What I mean is—” With another heavy sigh and a shake of his head, he stood to his feet. Not looking at you, he concluded, “I should… probably go.”

You were in state of confusion and sadness as he hurried out the door. Your eyes stayed trained on the last space that he had occupied. This was exactly why you didn’t do things like this. No moment of bliss was worth the terrible heartache that was always doomed to follow. Bringing your feet up on the couch, you made yourself as small as possible. Minutes went by. You weren’t sure why you didn’t move. Was there some stupid part of you that was waiting for him to come back through the door? Things like that only happened in the movies or a teen novel. As if to prove yourself wrong for why you were still in that spot, you peeled yourself up and walked into your room.

Laying there on your bed, folded like a store window display, was the jacket. Divided more than ever, you continued to stand in your doorway and stare at the last remaining evidence of Yixing’s presence.

As soon as he was outside, Yixing whirled and threw his fist into the grimy brick. Shaking out the pain, he cursed at himself under his breath. Stupid. He didn’t lash out like this. It wasn’t the right way to work out his anger. Even if it was towards himself.

The wolf both cheered at the line he’d crossed and whined at the sudden retreat. Part of him knew what the outcome would be once Ran left the apartment. The right thing to do would have been to say goodbye immediately and leave. But he had you to himself and to a wolf with his mate, that was a drug that couldn’t be discarded. So, he sat down on that couch, waiting for you to join. Sitting so close, Yixing’s muscles had tightened from the restraint. And then he snapped.

The scent rolling from you was too great to resist. Besides, you were leaning in, too. You were wanting it, too. Lips so soft as they kissed him back. Minseok had been right; it was like heaven on earth.

Then his mind pulled him back to hell.

A hiker had been attacked right around the time that he had blacked out. Again. And this time, they’d lived to describe the animal that had charged on him. A gray wolf. The same color as his own fur.

He fought against the thought that it might have been him. He held on tight to the chance that it was coincidence. But if it wasn’t… he couldn’t risk you getting hurt. If he did something to cause you harm… he’d never be able to forgive himself. He needed to get a handle on this, and fast. He just hoped that you didn’t hate him for the stunt he pulled back there.

In his pocket, his phone rang. Thankful for the distraction, he pulled it out and then the gratitude scrambled away.

It was Junmyeon.

Already knowing what this call would be about, he answered it. “Hello?”

“Yixing? Where are you? I need to come back to the house for a family meeting.”

He didn’t even bother to pretend to not understand. He didn’t ask for the reason to cover his current state of mind. “Okay. I’m in town, so it’ll take me about an hour to get home.”

“We’ll wait for you.”

Exhaling as his thumb hit the red button on his phone, Yixing pushed off the wall of the building and hopped into his car. A back and forth debate carried on as he drove down the backroad. Would he tell his pack what was going on and risk being ostracized? Or did he try to do this on his own and risk everything?

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onlyhereforangst · 3 years

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WWR

i mean i only had three weeks to get it done so naturally i’m finishing it three days before the next ep airs, would you expect anything less?

Ok we start off hot with a subtly jealous Nick scene and I love it. Ellie is like stunned that such a thing even exists “a covid crush” because lets be honest, she probably has no eyes for anyone else at this point - even if it’s been a YEAR (well 10ish months) a whole ass YEAR since the jail cell scene and can I just tell you I am mad about that. Why they do us dirty and skip a whole dang year?? Why can’t we quick flash forward every couple of months?? I mean I know it has felt like an entire year has gone by in a week, RIP 2020 no one will miss you, but like I wanted to see it 😩 and I better get at least some kind of explanation for whatever the F has gone down between these two from “well what are we gonna to about that as we stand 5 inches apart” to now. I demand this explanation.

Anyways, back on track here - Nick is jealllllllous BUT different kind of jealous for this man because for once he’s not all dark and broody about it. He’s over here willingly, *willingly* bringing up said jealousy aaaand he’s smiling about it (!!!) because despite them still not being together (where’s the Gibbs’ headslap when you actually need it amiright) he’s not worried about this crush. He knows her feelings and his so it’s like yeah I’m a little jealous but also I’m gooood, I got this one in the bag 😏 (also can I just say I need Ellie to show him he does not in fact ‘have this in the bag’ if he’s gonna act like a little shit and push her away).

This whole thing about babysitting and not wanting to take care of other living beings is very very very interesting considering they both loved taking care of Charlie (Cody, I blame this on pregnancy brain thank you @thekeyboardninja) in the end AND EVEN TALKED ABOUT PARENTING EVENTUALLY. So like, where did we backtrack??? Excuse me who allowed you to do such things. I’m feeling like they likely backtracked (this was s16 after all) because once again, the dust settled after their super close vulnerable moment and they went and hid behind those stupid walls they both have and somehow convinced themselves that being alone was better for them. IT’S A LIE YALL IT’S A LIE. You being together and taking care of each other is exactly what you need and it’ll be perfect and amazing and just DO IT ALREADY 😭

The team moment with Jimmy is so 🥺 and throughout the episode. I’m not going to touch on that stuff much because this is ellick focused but also because I truly do not need to sob again (even if I called Breena dying from covid like months ago and knew exactly what was coming with all of it but you know, I still cry, it’s fine, I’m fine).

Ellie knowing Gibbs uses a weighted blanket and Nick doubting her is just comical to me 😂 mini side note before we get into how they have a thiiiiiing and it’s called always getting dibs on the elevator in tandem for months and McGee HOW CAN YOU NOT TELL. These two are so in sync even if they are still spectacularly failing at talking this out & taking that next step. Also months of Gibbs riding down the elevator with just those two…….the third wheeling must be slowly killing the old dude, give him a break you two.

Tell me why these two have the exact same stance in the bullpen- could you be more obvious?? You rubbing off on each other. And then the walking up to the barbershop scene I caaaan’t. Ellie is SO flirty. Like so flirty. Who is this new Ellie and why do I love her so much. But Nick gives it right back too and her little giggle with shoulder shrug is just perfect. She’s fiiiiinally letting herself *feel* more and let it be out in the open and it’s just so great. I love seeing this character development for her 🥺 walls coming down, being more forward with her flirting and feelings and it’s all I’ve ever needed. Also we’re gonna take a small detour into Nick’s pants I mean the notebook he casually stashes in the front of his jeans like it doesn’t make a person look RIGHT. THERE. Don’t ask me why it’s hot, I don’t know the answers to the universe, it just is. We knoooooow Ellie is loving it’s location there, she wouldn’t mind flirtatiously taking it out at the next stop to “check” where they needed to go. You know, just helping a partner out- don’t worry Nick she’s got it handled 😏😏🔥🔥 Ok back from our detour, when Nick asks if she’s got him and she answers so quickly and almost with the undercurrent of “of course I do how is that even a question I’ll protect you until the day I die” (yes this is what she says), I love.

Ok since when does Nick like puzzles and how does Ellie know this??? He was most certainly NOT a puzzle kind of guy when he first joined the team so are you telling me that maybe Ellie and her nerdiness (come on there’s no way she doesn’t love puzzles) got Nick into puzzles??? Also also also does everyone remember that time in covid lockdown where literally everyone and their mother did five thousand puzzles because we couldn’t leave our houses? Soooooo is this a nod to Ellie & Nick spending some time together doing puzzles (at presumably Ellie’s apartment because she’d be the one to have said puzzles) and turns out Nick loves them even more than she did???? Is this what you’re making me read in between the lines NCIS? Because I am most certainly ok with this.

Ooooooooh-kay this 8pm thing for Nick. SO many possibilities. It’s been confirmed it wasn’t Ellie (which I won’t lie was my immediate wish) via Steven Binder on twitter (which I also won’t lie, my angst heart loves it’s something else). My take is it’s something (not another girl though) personal- I would *love* if it was therapy or some type of personal development thing. I think he realizes over the past year he has involuntarily retreated emotionally from Ellie even if outwardly it doesn’t show (no personal space and continued flirting). I think he *knows* he’s doing it emotionally and yet can’t figure out how to stop himself from doing it- like on the outside of his body watching him make a dumb mistake but unable to change a damn thing. SO I feel like whatever this 8pm thing is will play into that. It’ll somehow be related to Nick diving deeper into himself and trying to get more in touch with the parts of himself he loves to ignore/hide/push down. That could be therapy, a self-help class, getting in touch with family (but I don’t think he would feel the need to get secretive about this. i mean he already brought up Lucia to this dude, why would he all of a sudden be ashamed of a dinner/meeting with his mom or dad or something? i just don’t buy that). But anyways back to the point- it’s something Nick feels the need to hide in shame because that’s how he’s been conditioned as an undercover agent who feels the need to be tough and strong for everyone and being vulnerable is WAY too scary (helloooooo enneagram 8 nice to meet you I’m also an enneagram 8 Nick isn’t it fun).

I don’t know why them talking so casually on the phone, while Nick is getting ready for the day no less is so damn pleasing to me. The simple domesticity of it all because it’s totally something one would do with their spouse is just 🥰🥰 And then their little freaking smiles can THEY NOT. Ellie you like glazed donuts?? Is this some kind of hint? Innuendo? Just a glaringly obvious chance to flirt and you don’t give a rat’s ass you’re in the middle of the bullpen with Gibbs’ listening to your conversation so you’ll take that chance anyways because you’re head over heels for this guy? Either way Nick’s little smirk oof. I think he takes it as all three of those things and he’s *perfectly* ok with it. UNTIL until, there’s always an until with you Nicholas god damn. Ellie nervously asking about NIck’s apartment 🥺 she may be head over heels but she’s still a little shy and unsure. She thought that jail cell moment would break things through for them and yet she’s- not to quote Taylor swift or anything because why on earth would I do that- right where you left her. WHY NICHOLAS WHY. Since we know Ellie has seen and is very familiar with the inner workings of Nick’s apartment come 16x10, I presume he moved, and it sounds like recently. From the looks of this new place it’s niiiiice. For someone who doesn’t like a lot of things (see s14 when he joins team I don’t remember the exact ep sorry) - he sure managed to settle into that apartment quite nicely. It’s furnished well, it’s homey for DC. And if he’s moved into it since after the jail cell, letting Ellie in is likely a big step in his eyes. But we know this has got to be a weird shift for Ellie. Seemingly so comfortable in each others’ spaces and now she hasn’t even been invited over?? Yeah you smell something fishy girl just like I do. Even if Nick has a cute ass smirk at the end of his little charade to hang up the phone. Wipe that smirk off your face sir you owe us I mean Ellie an explanation and a visit to your apartment. SHE WANTS TO BE YOUR HOUSEGUEST. SHE WANTS TO BE IN YOUR HOUSE. SHE WANTS TO BE IN YOUR PANTS WHILE IN THAT HOUSE. JUST LET HER ALREADY. Ok I’m done, moving on.

Ok the guys opening the doors dramatically to let the one (1) woman on the team make a super badASS entrance is just 🔥🔥🔥 yes love it.

Excuse me why does Ellie feel the need to completely turn her body from the rest of the team/bullpen to be 100% faced on Nick. Body language don’t lie bitch I see you. And Nick stealing a glance at Ellie before having to answer McGee’s question about roommates…..interesting, very interesting sir. You thinking about how she’s going to react to some rando being in your apartment AND staying the night before she has?? You thinking about making her a permanent roommate?? But of course he turns to quick humor for a hot sec because this is Nick and then shockingly, like actually shockingly (is this that personal development, soul-searching, deep dive into emotional wonderland rubbing off on him??? Is it working is this foreshadowing???) he goes and gets deep on ‘em. And McGee calls him on it and I love it, I really think this is some foreshadowing here. I think we’re seeing some of the work Nick is doing on himself, getting himself ready for as serious as a relationship as he knows it’ll be with Ellie, paying off. He’s thinking about ~*emotional*~ consequences to actions and OOF yes. The growth, I live for the fucking growth. “It’s not easy to get through the tough transitions on your own” you say as you literally tried to do that for actual YEARS until you met this team. Until you met Ellie. Until you realized that emotional fallout was a real thing and you my friend are a terrible victim to it. Because guess what- exhibit A is right here about to ask you to dinner and you gonna turn her down. You quite literally tried to get through a tough transition (re: Ellie’s kidnapping & the two bombs) by yourself. That dust settled and you immediately emotionally retreated, not physically- emotionally. You went back to what you always knew, the lone wolf on your own, endure the tough transition. And yes you’ve been doing some work on yourself, but now- now you realize it. You can’t do work on yourself alone. You can’t go through this shit alone. You need your support system- your person. But that thought truly terrifies you. You’ve realized it but are you ready to act on it? Not quite yet. You might be close, but you still can’t bring yourself to be honest with her yet. When Ellie nervously asks Nick if he wants to grab a bite you can feel her start to (it’s probably been there quite a while but she’s tried to ignore the feeling of him emotionally shutting her out and pushing her away but the houseguest thing brought it back full force) really worry about where they stood. She won’t completely admit it to herself because she knows what was said in the jail cell wasn’t a lie or a dramatization for either of them, but that worry that’s been creeping in like a vine is taking hold. Nick saying “there’s something I need to take care of” hmmmmm I feel like this is SO vague. And probably purposely done so by the writers but I just - if it was solely him bringing the dude back to his daughter’s why wouldn’t he just tell Ellie that? What would be the harm in her knowing this? She’s aware you’ve bonded so why would he not just say that? I feel like there was definitely something else he thought he would go do after it. With all the talk of tough transitions and then his obviously pre-made plans to drop this guy off, I just feel like there was some other task he had planned before McGee called him. And him discussing the reset button (I’ll get to this) just kind of solidifies that for me. He’d been doing a LOT of reflection that day and he had something more major planned, I just wish I knew what 😩 Ok back to Ellie’s response, she’s honestly shocked and a little confused at his ominously vague answer. And I’d wager a tiny bit of hurt is in that expression too. All those vines of worry taking hold? Yeah, that’s why. They even just tightened and made her speechless for a second. The emotional withdrawal she feared was being confirmed in front of her very eyes. Because (at least on our screens) the last time Nick turned down a bite to eat with her? Oh yeah, he was dating fucking Elena. (Once again, I don’t think he’s got another girl but y’all this is the parallel Ellie could easily draw seeing as it was only a few months ago, supposedly.) And he even looks almost guilty about turning her down, like he knows it’s probably hurting her (and their relationship) but he can’t help it. He hates that he’s doing it and the words coming from his mouth (good lord it’s like the end of 17x07 with overprotective/you’re like a sister to me all over again) but he can’t stop it. And then my heart breaks for Ellie when she tries to put on a brave, strong face that claims she isn’t bothered by his rejection yet we all knoooooow 😭😭😭 He gives her a small little “night” and she’s just standing there wondering where the hell she went wrong with this, how she read them all wrong.

Ahhhhh the glorious reset button, ya love to see it. When he claims he has the opposite problem you can see his faraway look in his eye. You know *exactly* what, or better yet who, he’s thinking about in that moment. He knows he has to stop avoiding his emotional growth with Ellie. He knows he has to stop hitting the reset button the second things between them get real. And I think he’s known this for a while now but is finally, finally coming to grips with taking real steps forward. Taking steps to embrace the vulnerability he’s terrified of. Finally putting that reset button away 🥺

Ellie knowing Nick has one tie is just another swoon moment. Yes I could get dirty with that (see my tags on previous gifsets for proof) but like, also this is so real of them? They know so damn much about each other it’s insane. She may not have even been in his apartment yet but she knows he owns one tie. Like- come on. Nick you think you’re emotionally distant from this woman but my god it’s the opposite. You two are so intertwined you don’t even realize it as you chuckle and try once again to avoid thinking about that reset button. And then Jimmy goes and reads that letter and I sob. Yes I sobbed. Like I said not getting into this part because my pregnancy hormones can’t handle this (I’m barely rewatching this part with audio ok). But Jimmy’s words voiced over a shot of ellick…take my heart why don’t you. “To hear a laugh, and know that your life would change for ever” like come ON. First, Jimmy you slay me and second, all I can picture is Ellie chuckling with Nick in the bullpen showing him the clicker settings and Nick loving it. Nick your life would be changed forever in that moment I hope you knew. Ellie, pulling her arm around Nick’s for strength, support, I just-. Despite the turmoil she’s been going through, the doubts and the worry that’s crept in- she still feels it. She still feels love for this man and knows her life was changed forever when she met him. No matter how long she tried to deny it, she knows. And that little piece of her that desperately clings to Nick getting his head out of his ass and opening up emotionally to her, that piece decides to break that sliver of personal space and lean on him for support. She needs to touch him- the man who she can’t picture losing like Jimmy lost Breena. She needs to feel him still there, even if he hasn’t completely realized his life changed forever because of her- she has. Gripping his arm for the comfort it gives in knowing he’s still by her side, his hand brushing hers as an involuntary “I’ve got you” (even a reset button pusher like Nick can’t help his reflexes). The gravity of the fragility of life weighing heavily on them both, they hold each other. They’ve got each other. And good god is that poetry we just need them to actually fucking TALK ABOUT IT 😩😭

I don’t know if I even have side notes but I do appreciate NCIS paying homage to the utter grief this pandemic has been. Jimmy being the one to lose a loved one was quite honestly the perfect scenario to me. It shows just how cruel this pandemic has been, ripping even the most optimistic, happy people down to their knees in grief. It’s something that shouldn’t be glossed over and I do hope they continue to have this arc of struggling with grief throughout the season. I think it is so relatable and refreshing to see played out legitimately on the screen. I don’t want happy, go-lucky stale content. I want something real and something tangible. Yes I love my mindless entertainment, but it’s also nice to see *real* drama on a TV drama. At least, that’s my opinion 🤷🏻‍♀️ I’d apologize but isn’t that why you’re reading this to begin with? 😘😘

#ellick #ncis #wwr #18x07 #torres x bishop

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transbibennyweir · 3 years

Note

13 Bliss with Serica p l e a se

Bliss 13. “Your eyes are so pretty.”

[Takes place right after Mirror/rorriM]

They were tired and more than a little disappointed that their first school play had gone terribly wrong because yet another paranormal creature ruined their day. Honestly, Erica seemed more upset about it than Sarah was which was a little strange since she usually didn’t care that much about most things. Despite Erica’s sour mood Sarah followed her home like usual. In the same way Benny would almost always be found at the Morgan household, Sarah spent more time in Erica’s bedroom than her own. To be fair Erica’s parents were never home and paid little attention to anything outside of their work.

“It was nice to have reflection again,” Erica laments with a sigh and leans against Sarah. “Even for just a little bit.”

“Is that what’s been bothering you?” Sarah asks with a small smile, teasing but relieved it hadn’t been something more serious. Very few things got under Erica’s skin but it wasn’t a surprise it was something that involved her looks.

Erica hides her face in the crook of Sarah’s neck and she knows the blonde is pouting as she nods her head. “I mean, I think it’s unfair that I get super hot at the same time I can’t even show up in a picture. I know you think that’s vein but yeah it’s been bumming me out...”

There’s a pause because Sarah can’t lie that she feels similar.

Walking by a mirror and having no clue what you look like is sometimes annoying and sometimes a little scary. No way of telling how she’s changed or if she could change. Maybe as a vampire they couldn’t physically age but they still matured, was that visible? Did nothing change no matter how much she tried? Did she look different in certain clothes? She didn’t care if it was vein, Sarah missed being able to see herself in the mirror trying on a new outfit and think she looked good.

“Remember when there were coffee zombies around town?” Sarah asks suddenly and the question surprises both of them, she hadn’t realized she was saying anything until Erica answers back.

“Oh yeah, I was fully ready to blame Benny for that before Rory told me what happened. But what does that have to do with not having a reflection?” Erica replied, her voice a little tired and aloof.

Sarah bit her bottom lip, embarrassed by what she wanted to say. “Before everything went to shit I met this guy and he drew a picture of me and it was the first time I saw myself since I got turned. It was…. Really nice to get a recent look at myself. It’s not selfish for wanting to see yourself after so much time, you’ve changed a lot and I’m glad you got a glimpse of that even if you were possessed by the ghost of a theatre kid during most of it.”

It feels cheesy to say and Sarah doesn’t mind being open about her feelings, especially around her best friend, but Erica tended to be more closed off.

“Ugh, you’re right, she was a theatre kid….” Erica says and her voice trials off slightly. “But I guess you’re right, I’m glad I got to see myself even if it might be for the last time.”

Erica shifts a little in her spot on the bed, moving to wrap her arms around Sarah and keep hiding her face between hair and skin. She can smell strawberry shampoo and vanilla perfume and the sweetness of it made Erica’s head spin in the best way. Sarah smelled like a flower shop or somewhere homey and it’s comforting to the blonde teenager who needed the sense of familiarity. Everything had changed and Erica argued for the better, but maybe that was because she got to be the one thing she’s dreamed of being while still having her best friend in arms reach.

Neither of them moved, not wanting to create a gap between them; even if vampires didn’t have body heat there was a different kind of warmth that they shared and it made Sarah subtly blush.

“Is it silly that I still have a compact in my purse?” She added, mouth slightly pressed against Erica’s blonde hair and Sarah can’t help but absentmindedly run her fingers through it. “It has an old I.D. photo taped to the inside.”

“I would say that’s more depressing than it is silly, but I can’t blame you.” The sound of Erica’s voice came out muffled as she spoke into the small of Sarah’s neck, cool breath nearly making her shiver. There were few things that made Sarah Fox too hesitant to speak or move, Erica Jones pressing feather light kisses on her skin was on top of the list of those things. “You’re lucky you were hot before you got turned into a vampire. Double hotness. I was only hot afterwards.”

“Erica,” Sarah faltered. “You’ve always been this beautiful.”

There’s a bitter, hollow laugh that falls tiredly from the blonde vampire’s lips and it was heartbreaking to hear. Erica stops kissing Sarah’s jawline and sits up to look at her best friend, knees pulled close to her chest and hair falling over parts of her face.

“You’ve always been the pretty friend, Star.” It comes out like a statement in that low tone of voice Erica used to be serious. The use of the childhood nickname only made the knot in Sarah’s stomach tighter.

“That isn’t true. I’ve always thought you were the coolest person, you’ve never cared what anyone thought and you never hid what you liked and-”

“I cared, Sarah. I cared so much that it felt like I was drowning! I hid behind what I liked.” Blonde hair hides trembling lips and Erica tightened her first so much that the knuckles went white. “You know, I was jealous of you at one point. I couldn’t tell if I wanted to kiss you or be you, but I’ve figured it out.” Her voice trails for a second as she pauses to recollect all her feelings and lets out a quick exhale, relaxing her shoulders and turning to look at her best friend.

Sarah stared back in a soft look of concern and unease, not knowing if she should reach out and physically comfort the other girl. It was rare Erica let out any deep emotions and she didn’t want to do anything to mess up the moment.

“So which is it?”

Erica grins because she couldn’t keep a serious face for longer than a minute and leans towards Sarah, noses inches away. “I wanted to kiss you. It’s always been that way. I wanted to be good enough for you and when I thought I wasn’t I tried to ignore how much I wanted you.”

She’s looking down at Sarah’s lips and bites her own nervously, they’ve never outright said how they felt for one another but over the past year they got closer, touchier and overall hadn’t needed to use words and label whatever they were. But kissing, actually kissing hadn’t been something they tried yet despite both of them desperately wanting to.

“Erica, you’ve always been enough.” It comes out sad and a little rushed as the gap between their mouths close, unsure who had been the one to lean in completely first.

Sarah tastes as sweet as she smells and Erica gets a little dizzy over the way that her best friend kisses. Good girl Sarah who always does the right thing and who’s only ever dated one person before, was taking the lead and the use of tongue came as a welcomed surprise. Erica cups Sarah’s face and brushes her thumb softly against her cheek.

The bedroom is silent outside of the sound of small, low giggles and hums and it’s surreal to finally do this after so many years of silent pining. It gets harder to kiss when they can’t help but smile and Erica pulls away, eyes lidded over and chest so full of affection that it feels suffocating. Vampires don’t need air but Erica choices to believe that being undead isn’t what caused her to be so breathless. There’s a strong feeling that burns and tears through her, a raising heat that makes her think after all this time, after that happened to them, they get to have this and it’s so, so good. It’s better than anything out of her Dusk books and she’s thankful that vampires can live so long because she wants to enjoy this for the rest of time.

Sarah carefully pushes a tuff of stray hair behind Erica’s ear and grins at the way she sees Erica blush. The look on her face is soft, which was rare because Erica Jones didn’t do ‘soft’ but the way she looked now... Sarah thinks about every sappy poem she’s ever read and understands what those writers had been feeling. She couldn’t stop herself from falling deeper into a sense of fondness.

“You’re eyes are so pretty.” Sarah says and it comes out like a whisper, a prayer towards something divine. A silk promise made from tender warmth and devotion. “You’ve always been so pretty, you’ve always been more than enough.”

A year ago Erica might have cried hearing those words, and maybe she still wants to but stops herself. Her cheeks turn to a faded pink and she places a hand behind Sarah’s neck and pulls them back into another kiss, and it’s another silent agreement. A wordless ‘thank you’ or ‘I know that now’.

There are many things that go unspoken between them, but they don’t need words; not when they’re this close, moving a slow rhythm and enjoying the type of vulnerability that is terrifying to share with anyone else. It’s never terrifying when it’s her, Erica thinks. Talking about her feelings never felt she was being cut open when it was with the one person she trusted with her undead life.

Sarah runs her fingers through Erica’s hair and it’s another unspoken comfort between them, one that makes their chest flutter and everything feels like it was at a stand still. There’s a moment of pause and Sarah silently decides that if this what eternity would be like then she wasn’t scared of what came next, not when the one person she wants to spend the rest of forever with is just in arms reach.

#im still taking more requests from the emotion prompts if you want send in an ask for it #also i just realized #THIS IS THE FIRST IVE WRITTEN FOR THEM AHHH #so cute and soft i love these girls #my babysitters a vampire #mbav #sarah fox #erica jones #serica #filled prompt

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idreamofplaid · 4 years

Text

Love and Devotion

Summary: Intimacy is something that takes time for the reader. Sam is a patient man.

Characters: Sam x Plus!Size Reader

Word Count: 3674

A/N: This fic was requested by @autumninavonlea . It is about being demisexual. She asked the question, “ How would Sam react if his girlfriend was demisexual?” Add to that all the feelings that come with being plus sized in a thin world. I took some time with this one and tried to really feel what I was writing. I hope I got it right.

Someone else had wrapped the tiny little box. You were sure about that because Sam knew basically nothing about wrapping presents. He’d told you the stories about Christmases spent alone with Dean and gifts wrapped in newspaper. This little package had pretty silver paper and a perfectly hand tied red ribbon.

Sam watched you expectantly biting his bottom lip briefly before his dimple accented smile spread across his face. You pulled slowly at the ribbon. Whatever was inside this tiny box, it represented another move forward in your relationship. You knew what came in tiny boxes like this one, not that you were expecting an engagement ring. It was too soon for that.

Besides, people had sex before they got engaged; didn’t they? And that was something that hadn’t happened between you and Sam. He hadn’t pressured you at all, but now things were changing.

Carefully, you removed the paper and lifted the top from the box. Inside was a gold chain piled on top of a disc. You gently pinched your fingers around the clasp so you could pull the gold circle from the box. It was plain without any markings. You turned it over; the back was empty too.

Sam took the necklace from you. His eyes were soft, taking in your expression. His voice was equally as soft. “Turn around.” You did as he asked, and Sam gathered your hair in his hand so he could place it over one of your shoulders. Then he lifted the necklace over your head and fastened it in place.

You turned back around, your fingertips grazing the surface of the gold. Sam’s eyes were still on you. “There’s no inscription on it.” He took one of your hands in his. “That comes later.” He paused; his eyes traveled over your face then back to yours. “Every version of my future I can think of has you in it.” He bent down to touch his lips to yours, softly at first then the tip of his tongue touched your mouth seeking entrance.

Sam’s kisses were always welcome. He was tender even when the way he kissed you turned more passionate dancing on the edge of becoming something more physical, but Sam had never crossed that line. He had listened while you explained, after cutting short what could have been your first make out session, how you felt about sex and having a physical relationship with someone. He understood that feelings were deeply connected to anything sexual for you, and it was something you weren’t comfortable with doing yet.

Sam was patient, and that’s what made you comfortable with letting him lead you to the couch now while he kissed you. He guided you down, your back against the arm of the sofa and settled in on top of you.

His mouth moved across your cheek and down your neck leaving a trail of kisses to your collarbone. His breath was warm against your skin. “Is this okay?”

You tightened your hold on him and nodded. “Y...yes.” Once he knew you were alright, Sam kissed you more deeply. You’d come to love the taste of him on your tongue. It was familiar and exciting. He could stir a longing for him deep inside you that no man had ever been able to before.

Sam’s large hand covered the side of your waist and he started to push your shirt up while he continued to kiss you. Then he stopped; his eyes were dark and beautiful. “I don’t expect anything. You know that, right?”

You reached up to touch the hard line of his jaw. “I know. Keep going. I want you to.”

Sam brushed his thumb softly over your cheek. “Just tell me if you change your mind.”

Sam focused on kissing your neck where it met your shoulder while his hand slid further under your shirt and up your side. You put one hand into his hair and held onto him with your other arm. When his hand moved over your breast, you inhaled sharply.

Sam kissed your mouth again and caught your breath inside his when you exhaled. His thumb started to flick over your nipple through your bra. He talked against your lips through kisses. “I’ve got you, Y/N.” Your body responded to him, your nipple grew taut through the thin fabric of your bra.

This felt good. You didn’t protest when Sam eased your shirt over your head and let it drop to the floor. He lowered himself down your body and teased one of your nipples with his tongue until the material of your bra was wet. Your already aroused nipple drew tighter, and there was an unmistakable tingle between your legs accompanied by an ache in your core.

You wanted him. This is what desire felt like, not like the times you’d gone through with sex before because your friends were doing it. Each time you had hoped this was the time it would be different. This time it really was different. Sam reached behind you to unhook your bra, and you adjusted your body to make it easier for him. This was more skin than you had ever shown him before. There was only a moment’s hesitation in your mind; you wanted him to do this.

Sam’s first kiss was along the curve of your breast. After several kisses, he moved his mouth and closed it over your nipple. At first, he kissed you there the same way he kissed your mouth when he was using his tongue. The swirls and circles changed to sucking and licking while he rolled your other nipple between his fingers.

Your eyes closed, and your breathing got heavier. It was okay that he was doing this, more than okay. The way he made you feel, emotionally and physically, already had your thoughts melting into a soft, sweet haze of nothing but him and the way his mouth and hands felt on your body.

You let yourself get lost in it until Sam’s hand slipped under your waistband and inside your panties. Your eyes flew open, and your tried to sit up. Sam moved, and his weight was no longer heavy on top of you. It was almost like a protective instinct when you crossed your arms over your exposed chest to cover yourself even though he hadn’t hurt you.

It was your fear of what came next that had caused you to panic. You didn’t want to disappoint him, not be what he expects. Sam reached for your shirt where it had fallen. He picked it up and slipped it over your head then helped you put your arms back through the sleeves. His touch on your shoulder was light. “What is it, sweetheart? What’s wrong?” You could only shake your head. Sam covered your hand with his and held it. “We don’t have to do this. We don’t have to do anything.”

You finally found your voice. “I’m sorry.”

Sam wrapped you in his arms. “Shhh. There’s nothing to be sorry about.” He kissed your hair and held the back of your head in his hand. You sat that way in silence. Sam didn’t say anything; he was just with you. He held you and comforted you.

After a long time, you whispered against his chest. “Thank you.”

Sam answered quietly, “Do you want to sleep with me?” He was quick to clarify. “I just mean sleep. Nothing else. I want to hold you, have you close to me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam’s room was pretty basic. He hadn’t done much to add any homey touches. It was still one of the most inviting places you’d ever seen. You did want to curl up in that bed with Sam. You wanted to give yourself to him. Why couldn’t you? He hadn’t given you any reason to doubt him, none at all.

Sam smiled at you. Soft. Gentle. Sam. “Do you want something to sleep in? You can wear one of my shirts.”

Still feeling a little shy, you managed to answer, “Okay.” He opened a drawer and pulled out a navy t-shirt. It wasn’t one of the deep v-necks he often wore. If it had been, that would have left little to the imagination. He even looked away while you changed like you hadn’t just been intimate with each other only minutes before. Sam didn’t turn around until you were settled in his bed with the covers over you, so he missed seeing your bare legs. You noticed everything he was doing to be a gentleman, and the appreciation you felt filled your heart with even deeper feelings for him.

Sam undressed in front of you, down to his underwear at least. He took off his jeans and layers of Winchester shirts then put on some sleep pants and a t-shirt that was in the v-neck style.

Sam settled into bed next to you. He was careful not to get too close or touch you before he asked, “Is it okay for me to hold you?”

Once you had given him the go ahead, he pulled you close against him with your back pressed against his chest. He circled one strong arm around your waist and held you there. You lay together in the quiet and darkness of the room for several minutes feeling Sam’s heart beat against your back.

A swirl of thoughts were tangled in your mind. You wanted to be with Sam; you wanted to lower every wall, every barrier and give yourself to him. But nagging doubts filled your head. Sex meant something far more to you than just the physical. It made you feel truly vulnerable and that was scary.

Too often the partners you’d had, and there weren’t that many, pulled back from you after sex leaving you feeling even more vulnerable and rejected. You trusted Sam, but you’d trusted some of those other guys too; guys who said they wouldn’t hurt you. Then they did.

Your feelings were made even more complicated by the fact you carried extra weight. It made you self conscious, and when a guy was attracted to you; you sometimes questioned his motives because of your past experiences. Sam wasn’t like that. Your knew it, but that didn’t stop the fear.

You were still scared. You were scared of Sam just being nice to you, polite enough to go through with it but then being done because he had no desire for you after you’d had sex with him, and he’d seen your body.

You were also scared of what you might be doing to him if he did care for you. He deserved someone who would give of herself completely to him. He deserved someone who wouldn’t keep telling him no.

Sam ran his long fingers through your hair, and you struggled not to cry. “Talk to me, Y/N. Tell me what’s going on. What are you thinking?”

You took a deep breath, not wanting your voice to crack when you answered him because then he’d know just how close you were to crying, and his soft touch made it harder to fight. “I just...I don’t want this to end.”

He tightened his hold on you ever so slightly. “Why do you think that? Have I given you a reason to think that?”

You put your hand over his where it was resting on your waist. “You haven’t done anything, Sam. It’s me.” He held you a little longer before saying anything else.

“Why do you think you’ve done anything?”

You tucked your face into the pillow. “Because it isn’t fair to you that I keep asking you to wait.”

Sam shifted slightly in the bed and turned your body so he could face you. He put his hand on the side of your face. “Honey, there’s nothing for you to worry about. I want to be with you when you’re ready. Not before then.”

You glanced up at him then lowered your eyes. “Women practically throw themselves at you, Sam. You don’t have to wait.”

Sam took your hand in his and kissed it. “I don’t want them. I want you, and waiting is better. I’ve tried to force it so I could have someone, have something, feel close to somebody.” He kissed your hand again. “But that wasn’t enough; you are. You’re enough right now. When you are ready and we do make love, it’ll be that much better.”

This incredible man, that you would never understand how you found or why he chose to be with you, took you in his arms then and held you. When he felt you relax, Sam started to talk to you, and what he said made your heart freeze and then leap. “I’ll wait as long as you need, Y/N, because I love you.”

Your heart was beating wildly in your chest, but your body was still. You couldn’t move or speak. Sam kissed your forehead with a gentle touch of his lips then nuzzled your cheek with his before burying his face in your hair and inhaling you deeply.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first time you slept with Sam was the night he asked you to marry him. He’d asked soon after he said “I love you”. Sam Winchester was romantic to his core. He proposed to you by a lake when the first flowers of spring were blooming.

Sam was every bit as passionate as he was romantic, but he didn’t let that passion overtake him or overwhelm you. He did everything you needed that first time you shared his bed. As a result, he had everything he wanted. He had you.

The next morning you woke up in his arms with the length of your naked body touching his. When you raised your head from his chest, Sam was smiling at you. That moment was when a calmness and completeness settled over you that was the most beautiful thing you’d ever felt in your life until now.

You were finally alone with your new husband. The wedding was perfect, everything you had dreamed. It was small, only the people who meant the most to you were there. Sam was more relaxed and happier than you had ever seen him. He ate the ceremonial bite of wedding cake you offered him and then finished his entire piece. He danced with you while your family and friends watched, and he couldn’t get enough kisses or contact with you practically keeping his hand on the small of your back the entire day.

Now, night had fallen; and the moon and stars shone down on you as you sat together on the deck of the lake house Sam had brought you to for your honeymoon. It was full summer now and pleasantly warm. Branches in the trees around you moved gently in the nighttime breeze that came from the lake.

You heard Sam sigh, his thumb softly brushing back and forth over your knuckles. A smile crossed your face. It was time. Slowly, you stood and without letting go of his hand leaned down to kiss Sam’s cheek, followed by a whisper in his ear. “Give me a few minutes then wait for me in the bedroom.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You took one more look at yourself in the mirror. A few months ago you would have never worn something like this, but your confidence was at an all time high. You were wearing a sheer black lace babydoll that revealed your nude body beneath it. Sam was about to find out just how you could be when you felt totally safe, and so were you.

When you walked out of the dressing room area, you found Sam sitting on the bed with his back against the headboard and his long legs stretched out in front of him crossed at the ankles. He had bought something for tonight too. The sleep pants he was wearing were all white and not his usual flannel.

Sam’s breath caught when he saw you, and you watched his chest rise and fall. He had shaved the patch of hair that sometimes grew there. Your eyes traveled over his bare chest to the muscles in his shoulders, and up to the awed expression on his face. He uncrossed his legs drawing your attention to the lower part of his body. The outline of his penis was easy to see through the thin fabric of the sleep pants. Your own breath hitched.

As you walked closer to him, he raised his arms to reach for you; and you caught a glimpse of the wedding band on his finger. For you, that was a powerful aphrodisiac. You put a knee on the bed and lowered yourself to him. His kiss made you lightheaded and grounded you. The taste of him was comforting, familiar, and thrilling. He slid his hand under your lingerie and cupped your bare behind in his hand, squeezing while he kissed you deeply.

You were getting wet for him. The more he kissed you, the wetter you became. “Lie down on the bed for me, Sam.” He did as you asked, and you straddled him so he could feel just how wet you were. You lay down on top of him and rubbed your core against his naked stomach. Sam moaned into your mouth. “I want you, Y/N.” You could feel his full erection pressing into your backside.

You pulled your lips from his to place them on his chest and start a trail of kisses down the center of his body across his firm abs and right to his waistband before working your way back up to one of his nipples. Your extremely sensitive husband gasped when you took the little nub into your mouth rolling your tongue over it.

Sam raised his hips off the bed seeking something you weren’t going to give him just yet. You kept sucking on his nipple and reached down to stroke him through the pants. He had a sizable wet spot of his own forming, and you could fell the length of him throbbing through the fabric. After stroking him for a couple of minutes, Sam was moving his hips trying, but unable to, thrust into your hand. The sounds he was making flushed your body with heat, and you let go of his nipple with a final lick.

You slid your body down his, lightly scratching his skin with the lace you were still wearing. A quick look to Sam’s face and you saw his eyes were closed, and he was breathing through his mouth. You hooked your fingers into the waistband of his pants and pulled them down over his hips. Pre come was steadily oozing from his tip, and his thick penis bobbed with the need for more.

Once those innocent looking, erotic white pants were on the floor, you lifted the babydoll over your head and tossed it on top of them. You guided Sam to your entrance and sank down onto him. With each rise and fall of your body, he was pushing against your cervix. You draped yourself on top of him and let Sam take over. He thrust up into you for a few seconds before rolling you beneath him.

Sam found the rhythm that you both liked best, dragging over your sweet spot with every thrust. You parted your legs even wider for him and let your fingers sink into his back as your orgasm washed over and through you. Sam’s hips speeded up. “This is all for you, Y/N. Only you.” He came inside you with a cry, and you felt his hot semen filling you.

Sam slipped from your body and kissed you with a post orgasmic softness. His fingers sank into your hair, and he grasped a gentle handful while he kissed you. After several minutes of kissing and allowing your breathing to return to normal, Sam propped himself on his elbow so he could look at you. “You’re perfect, Y/N, and so beautiful. I love you with everything I have to give you.”

Happy tears filled your eyes. You brushed your fingertips over his cheek and along his jaw. He was real. “I love you, Sam, and I will give you everything I have.”

He wiped the tears from your face then touched his lips to yours, his hand gently cradling you head. You smiled when he pulled back to look at you again. “No more tears, beautiful.” Then Sam reached for the bedside table, opened the drawer, and pulled your disc necklace from it. He had asked for it back a few days ago, and unquestioningly you had given it to him. Just like he had done months ago, Sam fastened it around your neck.

You lifted the little circle; there was a W engraved on the front now. On the back there was an inscription, I love you now and always with the date. “Sam I...you...you planned this?”

His smile still made your heart flutter, maybe even more now that you were his wife. “I knew, Y/N. I knew when I first gave it to you that I would wait for today as long as I had to. You’re part of me.”

You put your hand over the W that was resting on top of your heart. “I love you so much, Sam.” You took a deep breath, your hand still on the pendant. “I’ll take care of you. I promise. I’ll do everything I can to make you happy.”

Sam kissed your cheek right next to your ear. “I know, Mrs. Winchester. I know.”

Forevers: @bitterstar88 @coffee-obsessed-writer @timelordy-fangirl2 @stusbunker @girl-next-door-writes @mariekoukie6661 @sandlee44 @cosicas-cuquis @ohnowin-chester @waywardbaby @dean-winchesters-bacon @oldfreakything @akhuna01 @tumbler-tidbits @maddiepants @evansrogerskitten @sorenmarie87 @ladywinchester1967 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @sea040561 @atc74 @mrs-meghan-winchester @ladycynthia @brinkofinsanity77645 @defenderrosetyler @emoryhemsworth @outcastedangel @67-chevy-baby @neii3n

Forever Sam: @sammyimpala-67 @crashdevlin @savemecastiel @logical-princey @zombiewerewolfqueen @fandom-princess-forevermore @heycasbutt @idabbleincrazy @fantasy-shadows @rebelminxy @peridottea91 @mereka18 @deansyahtzee @saltandburn-ilovesamwinchester @onethirstyunicorn @unabashedsoul97 @princessmisery666 @invisibledevour @beenlovingromansincedayoneish @arwenadreamer @fullmooner @waywardwilled @ketchacabra @taylasara @wendibird @mtngirlforever @focusonspn @kickingitwithkirk @dreamsfrozenincandyland @keymology @daisymoder72 @mymysosa @spnxbsessed @wingledsam @alleiradayne @volleyballer519 @autumninavonlea @muggle394 @ballistic-bailey @madebypointlesswerewolves @moondrunklove @ellen-reincarnated1967 @supernaturalgrandma @hermionejacobs @samleerandom @ledzeppelinsbonzo @hella-aj-the-tricksters-son @awesomesusiebstuff

#sam fluff #sam smut #sam angst #sam x plus size reader #sam x reader #wife reader #sam oneshot #sam fic

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cabin-fever-bang · 4 years

Text

Campfire Stories (Vol. 1)

Welcome to the Cabin! We proudly present the first edition of Campfire Stories: your one-stop shop for quality quarantine content.

We’re going to do these regularly, with in-depth reviews of everything that’s been submitted as a prompt fill and additional recommendations from the masterlists of writers who get involved.

If you’d like to be one of those writers, just follow us, comb through our prompts, and be sure to tag us when you post! It’s that easy. We welcome all fandoms and pairings.

This batch of reviews was cooked up by @thoughtslikeaminefield (MJ), @there-must-be-a-lock (Lou), @itmighthavebeenintentional (Val), @fangirlxwritesx67 (Viv), @cracksinthewalls (Bri), and @mskathywriteswords (Kathy), but we encourage you to pass along the random acts of writer-love and reblog with your own additions!

Pull up a seat, toast a marshmallow or two, and settle in for some excellent reading material.

Choices We Make - @becs-bunker - GIF prompt submitted by @dawnie1988

Pairing: Demon Dean x Female Reader

Warnings: angst, brief threat & violence, smut, language, dub con-ish, unprotected sex, orgasm denial

Words: 1374

Everyone loves a Demon!Dean fic, and this is a good one! Lots of action, lots of angst, and some really hot, awful Dean.

Honestly it all felt like some surreal nightmare you couldn’t wake up from. You just wanted Dean back, your Dean.

These lines summarize both the Demon!Dean story arc and the narrator's frame of mind so well, pulling the reader right into the perspective of the story.

“I missed you, y’know?” Dean sighed, and the naive part of you wished he was telling the truth. That somehow, deep down, he still loved you.

This is heartbreaking because it's relatable, because the author does such a good job with the narrator's voice.

Dean licked his lips and there was a familiar hunger in his green eyes that made a whole different sensation rise in your body, and it wasn’t fear.

I'm not going to quote any more lines from the story because the author has written one hell of a twist, but trust me when I said, I gasped out loud reading it. The rest of this story is an absolute roller coaster, well worth the ride.

- Viv

Come For Me - @fangirlxwritesx67 - image prompts created and submitted by @idabbleincrazy

Pairing: Sam Winchester x female reader

Warnings: smut, canon level violence, fingering, first time together

Words: 3100

First, let’s talk about this aesthetic. It’s soft and beautiful, but stark and needy. I love the quotes and photos, the way they flow together. Fantastic visual prompt. "Sam Winchester?” He spoke in a theatrical, mocking tone. “Ooooh, I’m frightened." This line made me chuckle. I love the idea of what’s ahead of us. The bad guy is built up in a hilarious way. Sam is presented through the heart and mind of the narrator, you. But thinking of Sam suffused you with a warm confidence. Not for one moment did you doubt him. This confidence is contagious and warming. Meanwhile, the anxiety over the vampire lurking somewhere else, waiting to taste you… it builds in a beautiful and believable way. There’s a rush of emotions as Sam rescues you, and he’s patient and kind, even while making jokes and being the Sam you know and love. Things progress, and there’s a beautiful and sweet (okay, and hot!) sex scene, with a first time between Sam and you. All in all, a really solid piece, with some story, some tension, some sex, and a whole lot of sweetness.

- Kathy

A New Day - @becs-bunker - image prompt created and submitted by @there-must-be-a-lock

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Warnings: fluff

I’ve not reviewed an image prompt before, so let’s just jump in. The first word that jumps to my mind is light, but I love how suffused and golden the whole image is. Softer, safer, intimate. There are little pinpoints of light, rays of light, shining light, and the whole thing makes me feel...well...light. Sunrise and candlelight, new day, new beginnings.

The images chosen for Sam, the angles and features we get, are such close, personal angles and shots, giving us this tender atmosphere and setting the tone for this story: personal. Everything you're about to read is intimate, personal, and private, in such a lovely, delicate way.

The curtains in that first shot are so filmy and ethereal, and the whole story feels like it’s set in a kind of golden-hazed forest. And, let’s face it, any sort of vacation for a Winchester is a kind of fairy tale.

I’ve managed to stay pretty much above the brow, so Imma have to dip down for a minute and just drool over Sam’s trapezius muscles. Oh. MY. GAWD.

Golden, glorious, graceful, and just a touch of gooey. Good, good, good.

So, right off the bat, let me tell you that this story is everything I’ve ever wanted for Sam, like everything the show and Chuck and the universe has ever denied him. He’s rested, he’s comforted, he’s bathed in glow (the sun, the reader’s love, all that jazz, you know?).

And then it goes and hits all my camping weaknesses. I was literally just telling someone how I’m missing my camp more than ever now. It’s been eight years since I’ve been, and this story brings back all those feelings of serenity and calm, voluntary isolation with people you more or less chose, because camp was and is my forever real home.

I know that seems a little rambly and off-topic, but the thing is, that’s what this story is for me. They aren’t at the bunker, their “home,” but they’re still home all the same, because (and, yes, you can shoot me for this) home is where your heart is, so this wonderful little cabin in the woods is home, whether they’ve been there together once or a hundred times because Sam.

And then that bit of sugar tossed in at the end...Oh, this story was good for my soul. “Warm mug of coffee on a chill morning, under a blanket” kind of good for my soul.

It’s one of those where I would love to have so much more of these two, of this warmth between them, but I also am perfectly content to know them just in this one perfect moment forever, before the day starts, when everything is still in the “it’s about to happen and it will be great” stages. The beginning of a great new day.

Thank you. I needed this story, now more than ever.

- Val

Crash - @myinconnelly1 - requested by @adoptdontshoppets for @idreamofplaid aesthetic

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Warnings: smut, fluff

Words: 810

The first thing that draws my eye in the aesthetic is the linked fingers. I love pinky links (I’m sure there’s a less cutesy way to say it, but I like it; sue me). They’re sweet, and really personal. You’ve got super tough Dean Winchester who isn’t embarrassed or afraid of intimate, goofy gestures. In fact, I feel like that would one hundred percent be Dean in a relationship: Dean is a giant ball of goofy, intimate gestures.

I love the choices of relaxed, bearded Dean/Jensen paired with the casual, cool color palette immediately set me at ease. This isn’t going to be a terrifying, angsty ordeal. This is going to be calm, soothing, sensual.

And the roses, the sand, the surf, the candlelight, the pokey palm tree fronds...I can hear, smell, feel every bit of these images. The golden-pink wine...ugh. This whole experience is a trip to paradise.

I love how all five senses are emphasized and made equally important. It gives us so much more connection to the moment, makes it that much more intimate. The constant crashing of the waves in the background; the bittersweet chocolate; the cozy, homey image of the baking-wrecked kitchen followed by the much more erotic, candelit bedroom; and then the scent of the oil mixed with the warmth and strength of Dean’s touch.

I also love the level of comfort in the story. We have the cookies, a hard-core comfort staple. We have the warm, lazy beach setting. And the easiness these two have together: that’s the dream, my friend. I love how they have no trouble at all communicating what they want and need, how they are comfortable enough to be messy and cute and flirty and sexy, one right after the other.

And the description is so thorough, I have no trouble at all imagining myself there, in that wonderful, relaxing moment.

This story is relaxing, decadent, soothing, and fun all at once. I am a huge fan of the ending, as well. I was smiling through the whole story, but at the end, I literally laughed aloud. And now I think I’m going to have to excuse myself to go find some chocolate chip cookies. This story gave me a couple of cravings, and as Dean Winchester is in short supply in the real world, cookies are the one I can satisfy right now.

This story is, dare I say it, such a sweet escape.

- Val

No Sugar Added - @myinconnelly1 - requested by @fangirlxwritesx67 - “I’d like to see Steve Rogers from MARVEL sharing Depression-era coping tips. Maybe he vlogs how to make apple-less apple pie.”

No pairing

Warnings: Spoilers for Infinity Wars + Endgame, mention of mental health issues

Words: 446

This was my prompt for the Cabin, and I loved what this author did with the story! A little bit of fluffy cheer.

“Hello, I’m Steve Rogers. As many of you know, I’m also Captain America, and I was alive during another time of hard living conditions.”

Right now, a lot of things in the world seem scary and unsettling. It's one of those times when we turn for comfort to the lessons of the past, to the wisdom of generations, and to heroes. This author does a great job with Captain America, Steve Rogers. His cooking lesson is exactly the sort of inspiring, instructional video I would love to see.

“What is that smell?” Natasha asked as she looked behind her to see Steve walking into the office with the plate.

Because it was never about pie, apple or otherwise. It was always about comfort. Our favorite foods help with that, and so does Captain America, especially written this well.

There are some fun tidbits in this story, including a peek of history and an actual recipe!

- Viv

Communion - @thoughtslikeaminefield - requested by @mskathywriteswords “Fluffy dean or Jensen smoking weed plz, ty”

Pairing: Dean Winchester x unnamed female character

Warnings: marijuana use, high sex, het sex, fluffy smut

Words: 1002

How do I love this? Let me count the motherfucking ways.

First of all, the way this sucks you into the characters’ headspace is beautiful and subtle and masterfully done. It’s in the sentence structure and the flow of the words; there’s no need to describe their inner state, because it’s written into the movement of the sentences and the choice of words. She doesn’t have to say that they’re high, because you can fucking feel it in phrases like “It’s sending me off somewhere…” or “I shiver at the thoughts careening through my mind.”

Second, this is molten hot, but (as with the best smut) it’s not just some rote story of “then he was hard and we banged and it was great.” The sexy bits are unique; this isn’t the same smut you’ve read a thousand times before. It’s got its own personality and tone and voice that very much belong to this particular story.

Also? Filth with feelings! My favorite genre! It’s deeply emotional. I am all for smut that is both dirty and tender. This is like a masterclass on how to walk that line.

It’s such a simple premise that becomes so much more; this has things to say about Dean, about his personality, about this relationship. This takes a very specific moment and uses it as a framework for something big and meaningful. This, for example:

When Dean has to be big, he uses his whole self. His body takes up space and his mere presence -- he can make the darkest of demons shudder with his presence alone.

But Dean’s natural state is this -- nesting, nuzzling, curled up and warm.

Yuuuup.

Also:

His hands -- the same hands I’ve seen thrust a blade into the guts of angels and demons -- are tender, fingertips light but persistent as they slip under my tank top and splay over my belly.

It’s so intimate. This is why we read fanfic, right? To feel like we’re close to these characters that we love so much, to delve into the sides of them that we don’t get to see much in canon… this fic feels like something personal and private that we’ve been lucky enough to be let in on.

- Lou

Deeper Than Deep Conditioner - @fangirlxwritesx67 - requested by @awesomesusiebstuff “The two Sam’s (our Sam and AU Sam) maintaining their hair care routines while quarantined.”

It’s one of those days when I’m feeling too fragile for this world. What’s the best remedy to knock some sunlight into my dark mood? Today, it’s fic -- and one that makes me giggle is a bonus.

This little gem is filled with funny one-liners and side-eye moments to make you laugh out loud:

Dean dreamed of driving away, of bikini beauties on the beaches of Rio. Sam dreamed of scarves and what it would be like to have no bigger worries in the world than his hair.

The look Dean gave him would’ve curdled milk, if there was any, which there wasn’t, because Dean took his coffee black, like a man.

A touch of realism in this bizarro situation got a chuckle, too:

“Sorry, sweethearts,” alt!Dean said, “Flights are all cancelled. A virus or something.”

When Viv named the alternates Deano and Sami, I gave in and embraced the madness. I was delighted with Deano; that’s my own nickname for Dean in my head. But Sami, a most pretentious twist on Sammy? A master stroke. I was tickled.

I was fully on board with enjoying this romp through the bizarro world, but then I was taken by surprise. This little moment, a hint that Sam has been trying to make the best of their circumstances, touched me:

“Is this really how you live?” said Sami, with a dismissive glance at his paper napkin.

“Look,” Sam answered. “I’ve done my best. It’s taken a lot to get us this far.”

I was prepared for that to be the exception to the rule -- a moment of sincerity amongst a sea of lighthearted fun. And there was plenty of fun ahead of me. The jokes come at you hard and fast in this story! But I realized the mood was steadily changing, and suddenly, I was immersed in sincerity and maybe a little sadness:

...somewhere out there, was a universe where he pampered himself...

...maybe there was a place where he could enjoy something as simple as a deep condition...

...something Sam had wanted to watch but never had time for...

...for the first time in a long time, he caught himself laughing...

I thought maybe that was it. A few moments of Sam learning to appreciate what Sami (I was still laughing at that) had to offer, instead of simply mocking his manbun and scarf (I don’t think I could ever stop mocking that, but Sam’s a better person than I am).

But no. It didn’t end there, and I still wasn’t ready. Before I knew it, I was steeped in Sam’s melancholy, his yearning for a life kinder and gentler than what he’d been given. I was truly heartbroken for him in that moment.

I won’t spoil the rest, but by the time I got to the ending, I was grateful for the funny beginning that softened the landing. I expected a comedy, but what I got really was deeper than deep conditioner.

- Bri

Dear Mr. Fantasy - @itmighthavebeenintentional - image prompt submitted @thoughtslikeaminefield

Warnings: SEASON 15 SPOILERS, bit of angst.

Words: 2157

I found the image prompt in my Tumblr feed and immediately started plotting ideas that I cannot write bc I have too many fucking WIPs so imagine my excite when one of my all-time favorite fic writers (and one of my very best friends) filled the prompt as a surprise for me!

Val tells stories with a depth and humor like no one else I’ve ever read. Her natural wit and smarts shine through her fictional words as well, and I love seeing glimpses of her in her work.

In one universe, someone neglected Baby (couldn’t have been Dean, had to’ve been Sam) to the point where she pulls slightly to the left. Dean spends the morning after that dream with a muscle tick in his cheek and a suspicious, side-eyed glare for Sam that he never bothers to explain.

Dear Mr. Fantasy is bittersweet. It is soft and rich and full of color — all the senses are here. It’s a sledgehammer of realism wrapped in velvet. And it’s so very Dean.

At forty-eight years old (none of that years young bullshit, either; he’s old, and he’s goddamn earned it)

In the midst of reading canon Dean dreaming of and admiring and protecting his favorite of his AU-selves and that version’s life, we are treated to what it would be like if he was allowed a normal life. Our devoted, brave, warm, and loving hunter as a common mechanic would be just as brave and loyal, no?

“Pretty sure she’s settled on ya, so just make sure you’re worth it.”

So that’s what Dean did.

But our Dean — the Real Dean as Chuck says — can’t quite let his guard down even in his dreams of another world, even if that other world is safe as houses. He’s still aware of just how unreal this reality is.

Splashes of indigo and orange paint the horizon, framing her approach in a wash of colors blending into shadows that hold no danger.

Then, he lets himself mingle with that dream, if only for a few moments and it’s bliss.

Older Dean and worn-out, monster-plagued Dean sigh together, content down to their bones. This life is it for both of them. She is it. One Dean still can’t believe his amazing luck after all these years, and the other aches at the simple, total happiness he feels honored to witness.

I love you, she whispers, and he allows himself to believe for one moment that she’s talking directly to him.

I’m not going to spoil anything for you, but I will say that you need some tissues. I cried through 90% of this story, from joy and from heartache.

Because that’s what Valerie does, breaks your heart and makes you smile, and it is so fucking good.

- MJ

Synesthesia - @there-must-be-a-lock - request by @wendibird “SPN, Sastiel, due to all the Angelic Grace Sam has been exposed to over time, he starts resonating with Castiel’s. Especially if Cas’ emotions are running high.”

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Castiel

Warnings: none!

Words: 750

First, I love the song that enhanced this idea for Lou. It lends a tenderness and whimsy to the plot that isn’t inherent.

Second, Lou’s words are like poetry and watercolor doing a dance of their own making — GORGEOUS phrasing and rhythm.

Cas whirls around, and Sam is hypnotized by the bright blue in his eyes, wide and concerned in a way that makes Sam feel like he’s being lit up from the inside. There’s a floodlight in his chest.

And, y’all, I don’t even go here, but I swooned SO HARD.

It’s an effort to focus, but when he meets Cas’s eyes, Cas smiles. Sam sees a shower of sparks like the last fizzle of a firework.

Sam hears it as a flutter of spring green like a new leaf.

And Lou’s characterization is always spot on, right? But like Dean isn’t even in the scene, yet here we are.

Don’t let the words fool you; there’s a very angry rainbow happening in his head most of the time.

And did I mention the ARTWORK that is this woman’s WORDS?

There are stars under their feet, entire galaxies spinning out around them, dancing spirals of kaleidoscopic green and gold melting into whorls of brilliant blue.

Anyway, please go read. You’ll be flying high for hours afterward. xox

- MJ

Salvation - @dontshootmespence - image created and submitted by @idabbleincrazy

Pairings: Sam Winchester x reader

Warnings: angst, torture, gore, smut

Words: 1,401

The aesthetics by this artist inspire stories just because they are so well done. This one was a good balance of handsome Sam and some nice suggestive pics along with the phrases that helped shape the action of the story.

This story feels like an episode of the show from earlier seasons, just the right balance of angst and monster fighting with tantalizing peeks of smut and feels. Excellent job!

There are no words that come close to explaining what she means to him. How she saves what soul he has left.

These flashback scenes are both hot and tender. The voice the author gives to Sam is spot on, achingly familiar.

"You're Sam Winchester, the boy with the demon blood."

It's easy to forget, sometimes, all the things that Sam has been and done, how fearsome of a hunter he is. This story reminds us with razor sharp precision.

When he meets her gaze, he finds the peace he's craved for so long.

The contrast between the flashbacks and the action is painfully good.

What’s more frightening, a man like Dean, practiced in his violence out of necessity? Or a man like him, on the verge of losing everything and nothing left to lose?

This is a well drawn distinction between the Winchester brothers, and such a good characterization of Sam!

"You're safe with me, Sam. You never have to hide from me."

Such a beautiful relationship between Sam and this woman! It's no wonder he's fighting so hard to save her.

This story has an imaginative plot, fast paced action, some sweet hotness, and such a good Sam!

- Viv

The Second Hand Unwinds - @mskathywriteswords - image prompt created and submitted by @there-must-be-a-lock

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Warnings: hurt, comfort, angst

I had a vibe in mind when I created this aesthetic but this went so far beyond anything I could’ve imagined. It absolutely nailed that nostalgic, wistful, antique-photo-album feel, and then it managed to knife me in the fucking gut in a few ways, none of which I saw coming.

The JOY in the first part of this is absolutely tangible. It’s so romantic and sweet in a very dreamy way that feels exactly like first love. I love the scattered, disjointed imagery around the flowers in the first part, like flashes of memories coming at you all at once, and then when it settles into the narrative it manages to hold onto that dreamy feeling while still moving neatly through the plot.

This moment was about us, and I wanted to live in it forever. You never gave me reason to cover my body, not that night or ever.

Goddamn right. Ugh, precious and beautiful. And then this:

After so much undiluted time together, I had no idea how to sleep alone. I felt raw waking up by myself, not being able to feel your stubble tickling my skin.

There’s something about that last line that just grabbed my heart and tugged it in a wonderful way. It’s ACCURATE, first of all; this is one of those super-specific feelings that is hard to describe concisely. I haven’t really thought about that feeling in a while, but that little sentence just cut through so many years and brought me right back in a deep and visceral way.

You took pride in doing all the things that were never done for you, you’d told me.

Ouch. It’s little touches like this that make this ring true to character even though it’s a very different Dean than we see in canon.

And then that ENDING.

How do you contain a bomb once it’s been set on fire with grief?

Fuck, dude. Everything about that ending was so painful. I love that she left it raw and messy and not like a simple “welcome back!” kinda moment.

This was just gorgeously done. Can not recommend it enough.

Fort - @there-must-be-a-lock - prompt by @mskathywriteswords “Fluffy dean or Jensen smoking weed plz, ty.”

Pairing: J2 x reader

Warnings: blowjobs and weed.

Words: ~2150

This piece of deliciousness opens with Jensen walking out of the bathroom with a towel on his hips; do I need to say more? I don’t, but I will. After some beautiful description of the blanket fort, we get treated to Jared in nothing but pajama pants. The descriptions in this piece are vivid and full. the way Jared’s hand looks between Jensen’s muscled shoulderblades, thumb stroking back and forth between patches of gold and red light, makes me want to capture the moment and hold onto it. I can see that image in my mind, picture the two of them together, and that’s what makes excellent writing for me. The warnings attached to this piece are fully applicable; the story is very cute and sweet, there’s weed, and there’s Jared and a wicked oral fixation, which in the case of this one-shot means dear Reader, that’s you, get to witness a searing blowjob from one J to another. The way these three interact makes my heart swell, and there’s something about watching the dynamic change between them that really hammers home just how functional they are together. Dive in to this universe, Everything. There are no regrets to be had, maybe only that you waited so long to get wet.

- Kathy

The Gazelle - @thoughtslikeaminefield - requested by Anonymous “I’d really love some more Dean x Benny fanfiction, AU, aligned with canon timeline, whatever. I think they deserved a chance and Benny got killed off before it could even be explored :(”

Pairing: AU Dean Winchester x AU Benny Lafitte x unnamed female character

Warnings: power exchange, mmf threesome implied, Denny apparent, nudity

Words: 1000

Let me start with a caveat: I’m in the bag for pretty much any Dean x Benny fic, pretty much any Dean x Benny x person #3 fic, and absolutely any MJ fic. So you could stop reading this review right now and just go read the fic, if you want; in fact, I sort of recommend it, because it’s better than anything I could have to say about it. But if you want to stick around, I promise to be a little more coherent than ZOMGGGG PERFECT HOT SEXY TIMES DENNY LOVE GORGEOUS MORE PLZ!

Before we even get to the words, we’ve got a gorgeous graphic. Black and white beautiful boys, staring you down with those “I’m gonna fuck you so good” eyes, paired with a sweetly sexy woman tinted with a soft pink; she looks carefree, open to have some fun, and you can imagine her telling them to bring it on. MJ’s graphics are always great, setting the perfect mood for her fics, and this is no exception.

And right from the jump:

Dean and me — we share a lot of things.

We share good music and good drink. Tonight, we’re sharing a good woman.

Oh, this is in Benny’s voice?! Okay okay okay, cool cool cool, I can handle this…

...Dean purrs like a jungle cat as he hovers behind her, hands in her hair, twisting and twirling the silky tresses…

...Dean sets the pace and is the anchor, always. He keeps everything stable and grounded…

And now I’ve realized that I’m going to be seeing Dean through Benny’s eyes -- and no, not cool, can’t handle this -- but I’m definitely not stopping.

I like to mix things up, though, and he lets me.

MJ is a brilliant writer with many talents, but I think her specialty, regardless of what characters she’s writing with, is brilliantly salacious smut that’s steeped in emotion. She can’t help it. Her fucks come with feels, every single time, and I hope it never changes.

This piece is certainly no exception. Dean and Benny are circling their prey, this unnamed woman, utilizing their individual strengths -- Dean’s encouraging, I’m demanding -- and the sexual tension is building with soft touches and lingering kisses. As the scene is progressing, Benny’s inner monologue is sprinkled with thoughts about Dean:

Times we don’t have a subject, Dean’s focus is on me. I don’t argue and I do not complain. Dean knows what to do with every inch of that long, lean body of his. He knows how to cage a person in, make them feel safe, wanted, fucking needed.

She’s handily building emotion and a personal backstory without an exposition dump, without taking focus away from the action for too long:

His hands move slowly, seemingly random, but I know how focused he is on her and the moment. Giving and seeking pleasure are vital things to Dean and he takes the acts to heart.

I’m immersed in the now of this scene but I also understand the depth of their feelings for one another, their history and dedication to each other, and how they work together to bring another partner into their orbit. MJ makes it look easy, when it’s anything but.

And then she gifts us with this perfection and I’ve melted into a puddle of emotionally aroused goo:

“You promise to love, honor, and cherish ‘til the morning light, Dean?”

That is a vow of devotion to a one-night stand. What?! How?! Does her brain come up with this?

From there, the scene continues, the action escalating, supported by a framework of realism and heart. Her Dean feels familiar and in character, even though we’ve never seen him in this particular situation. And Benny, we hardly knew ye, but she brings him to life alongside Dean and I buy their relationship completely. I buy all of this, and now I’m invested.

And then…

“Do it, then,” she says, challenging. “Wreck me.”

My breath catches, my heart starts to race -- yes, here we go! -- a few more sentences, one last connection between Dean and Benny, and then --

Oh, you are evil, MJ. You are so perfectly evil and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

- Bri

#random acts of love #cabin-fever-bang #cabin fever bang #fanfiction #fic rec #rec list #bear hugs #welcome to the cabin #campfire stories #writers supporting writers

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kairi-chan · 4 years

Note

"Did that person just take a picture of us?" is GOLD for including in Hold you down

Title: Sip and Click

Genre: Romance / Fluff / Humor

Rating: T

Co-written with @ss-tyytyy

Written for @borusaraweek2020 D7: Coffee, Princess

A/N: Warning!! This has some spoilers for the canon fics! But I guess you guys have already seen this coming. Lol.

...

With the news of Sarada and Hōki’s breakup out, Boruto felt like he could finally breathe easy. It had been two weeks of Sarada barely leaving her condo when she wasn’t shooting, and spending a week going home to her parents’ house, making it look like she was trying to get a hold of herself again after their split.

What a load of bullshit. As if Sarada needed “time and space to heal” when it was supposed to be a mutual decision on their part to “split up.”

Hōki made it look like he was hurt—for about a day—until he started posting photos with his new female lead, shaping up to look like a new love interest.

Boruto missed Sarada and when she was finally set to come back home to her condo, he was happy to have her back in his arms and to sleep with her again. As much as he wanted to spend the day indoors, Sarada was getting antsy, wanting to go out for a cup of coffee and cake. She had been stuck at home for two weeks, it was understandable but still risky.

“You’re supposed to be heartbroken, princess,” Boruto reasoned, careful not to rile her up about it.

“Well… I’m not.” Sarada stomped her foot and crossed her arms over her chest. “I want to move on with my life already.”

Boruto couldn’t argue with those two points. Sarada certainly wasn’t the type to sit around and mope over a guy who wasn’t even great. “Yeah, you’re right.” He sighed and got up from the couch. “Fine, cake and coffee?”

“Yes.” She brightened instantly, dropping her arms before closing the distance between them and hugging him around his waist. “Thank you.”

He chuckled lightly and hugged her back, resting his cheek on the top of her head. “Anything for you, princess.”

Boruto drove them to a coffee shop halfway across town. Not only because it’s what Sarada wanted, but also because it was the most private. Despite being located in the business district, it had a homey and dainty feel to the place, decorated with white wood and comfy couches. They also served one of the best strawberry cakes in the city.

Sarada was nearly bouncing on her feet in excitement and he couldn’t blame her at all. It had been a while since they both came to visit. He had already called in advance, reserving a particular nook in the cafe wherein the couch faced a wall, back turned against everyone else inside. The backrest wasn’t high enough to hide their faces but if Sarada wanted to cuddle—and no doubt she would want to—her head would be hidden and only his shirt’s collar until the top of his blond head would be seen. Sarada slipped into the couch first and Boruto followed suit.

As soon as they were both seated, Sarada scooted closer to Boruto and wrapped both her arms around his left which was closest to her. “Is this… a date?”

His eyes widened by the smallest bit but a light blush and a large bright grin cracked on his face. “Y-yeah it is.” If Boruto knew earlier she wanted this to be a date, he would have had flowers sent here in advance. Perhaps he could have it sent to her house to surprise her when they were back.

“Ooh. I was worried we wouldn’t get another date.” She sighed, but a soft smile was gracing her lips. “The first one was beautiful. I want more dates.”

What? “My princess wants dates? She will get all the dates she wants,” Boruto declared.

“Next time, I want to go to the beach and have a picnic… at night.” Sarada told him, already excited about the idea of more dates to come.

“Night picnics on the beach. Got it,” Boruto nodded, interlacing their fingers together and rubbing his nose on hers. “How about ghost hunting, too?” He smirked, a devilish smile on his face.

Sarada shuddered and pulled away from him as if he’d wounded her. “I hate you!” She pouted, turning her face away from him. He knew well how much she hated scary things.

He laughed and tickled her side, making her lighten up a little bit. “Aw, come on, I’ll protect you! And you can cling on to me as much as you like, ya know?”

“No.” She huffed but laid her head on his shoulder. “You’re so mean.”

“I’m not,” that grin on his face was starting to look permanent. God, he missed her so much. Having her leaning on him and teasing her again made him feel so happy.

The waiter came around and handed them a menu. Boruto didn’t even need to take a look, he already knew what they wanted. After the waiter took their order, he scurried away to have it placed and finally, they were alone again.

He pressed his lips to her temple and took a deep breath, inhaling her scent. “I missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.” She whispered back, moving her hand to cling onto his shirt. “I don’t like dating other people.”

“I’m the only one you’ve ever dated,” he grinned cheekily. Although Boruto knew what Sarada meant, he couldn’t help but tease her.

“Yeah… but nobody knows that. Everybody thinks it’s Hōki and not you.” Sarada sighed sadly. She didn’t like lying, even if it was necessary. She would have liked nothing more than being able to tell the world that Boruto owned her heart.

“I know,” his smile fell by the smallest bit and he rubbed her back soothingly. “As long as we know how we feel about each other, the rest of the world doesn’t matter.”

Sarada tilted her head back, gazing at him with a look of pure adoration in her eyes. “You really mean that?”

“I do,” Boruto leaned down to capture her lips in a light and chaste kiss. It lasted way too short for her liking, and he barely pulled away when he heard a familiar sound.

Click.

His eyes widened, gaze shifting to the other side of the cafe. There weren't any big professional cameras, but there was a phone and it was pointed right at them.

“Oh fuck,” Boruto cursed, gaze pointedly staring at the girl. She hastily put her phone away and sipped her drink, wanting to look innocent.

“What?” Sarada asked softly, knowing that look on his face. “Did they take a photo?”

“They did.” Although his voice was low, it was lethal. “Shit. Mitsuki is going to kill me.” Boruto sat back down on the couch and slumped down on it, arms crossing against his chest. He knew this was going to happen but getting caught like that has got to be a new idiotic record. Even for him.

“Let me out.”

“What?” Boruto quirked a brow up. “Why?”

“I’ll take care of it.” She said simply, patting his leg under the table.

“Wh-what?” His arms fell to his side, jaw slack. “What do you mean you’ll take care of it?” He sat up, blocking her way out of the couch. There was no way he was going to let Sarada out of the couch.

Sarada narrowed her dark eyes on him. “Boruto, let me up. I can handle this easily. Look at this face, nobody can refuse me.” She said, giving him a bout of puppy dog eyes.

Boruto bit his lower lip, eyes growing wide. He wouldn’t budge to those big beautiful black eyes and her adorable pouty lips. No. He would absolutely not—he slid out of the couch and stood up, holding her hand to help her out. Once Sarada was on her feet, he slapped a hand to his forehead. “Fuck me,” He muttered. Boruto was too weak against her and he really should’ve known better.

“Later,” Sarada whispered, patting him on his chest before brushing past him and heading for the girl who was still sipping her drink and giving Sarada a side-eye, looking stunned to be approached by her.

Sarada smiles warmly at the girl and they exchanged a few words that he couldn’t hear. The two of them smiled and giggled as the girl showed Sarada her phone and even let Sarada hold it. After a couple moments, Sarada accepted a pen and notebook from the girl, giving her autograph before waving Boruto over.

The blond felt a wave of anxiety rush over him, but he put on a charming smile and confidently walked over to the two, beaming at the young girl. “Hello.”

“Hi.” The girl replied meekly and Sarada giggled, moving to stand by his side.

“We’re going to take a proper picture for her,” Sarada explained.

“Oh,” Boruto blinked. That wasn’t… what he expected. At all. “Sure, why not.” He grinned, despite not knowing what the hell Sarada was up to.

The girl was beside herself with glee, Boruto could practically see the stars in her eyes.

Sarada smiled brightly, leaning close against him as she would any time while the girl took the photo.

“Thank you so much.” She cooed, showing them both the picture she’d taken.

“You’re welcome. Much better.” Sarada approved. “Thank you for your support.”

The girl was nearing hysterics as Sarada took Boruto’s hand and pulled him back to their table. She settled in and smiled at finding her coffee hot and waiting. She hummed in delight after a much-needed sip.

“What just…” Boruto stared at her in disbelief. “What just happened?” He still couldn’t believe Sarada had approached a fan and offered to have their photo taken.

“Oh, she was really sweet. Big fan, said we were her OTP. She let me delete the other photo and since she was so nice about it, I agreed to take one that was safer.”

He blinked once. Twice. “We’re her OTP?” The following and number of comments Boruto got whenever he posted a photo of Sarada on his social media should have been enough to convince him. But seeing it live was a completely different experience. “You mean… she’s a BoruSara fan?”

“Yes. Very much. She promised not to even post the picture—and I believe her.” Sarada giggled and rubbed his thigh affectionately. “It’s nice to know that, even if we’re not publicly official, there are lots of people supporting us.”

The corner of his lips curled up and he looked back to see the girl giggling away on her phone. Boruto chuckled and kissed Sarada’s cheek. “I’m happy to know that, too, princess.”

“Boruto,” Sarada cooed, leaning closer to nuzzle her nose against his neck and then whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Boruto wound an arm around her shoulders and picked up his coffee, taking a long and satisfying sip.

Nothing in this world was better than having a good cup of coffee, the love of his life wrapped up in his arms, and a public relations crisis averted.

#borusara #borusaraweek2020 #borusaraweek2020D7 #boruto #sarada #boruto uzumaki #sarada uchiha #hold you down #HYD #actress AU #manager AU #boruto fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction

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nyisles · 5 years

Text

Magic In The Hamptons

~ part two, be kind ~

part one

Player: Mathew Barzal

Words: around 3.3k

Warnings: language?

Notes: wowowow, part one was so well received that I honestly just pray you folks enjoy. Anywho, she’s here and she’s unedited :-)

Now it was just a game. How long does one wait to text someone back after they disappear for three weeks? You hadn’t thought much of it after week two. The first week you were a little down on yourself, spent a little too much time wondering what exactly was the problem? It was a constant topic of conversation amongst you, your girlfriends, your work friends, and Reese who all seemed to love to talk about your nonexistent love life. They also didn’t quite understand the magnitude of ‘professional hockey player’ who ghosted, it cut a little deeper than your regular ghosting. You felt like maybe the Islander wags’ advice wasn’t even worth it, you should’ve just gone home with him. Maybe he felt rejected, but you never outwardly said no? Right now you wished you had Grace’s number. An SOS text was what you really needed, and she seemed to really be clued in on Mat. This absolutely sucked, he decided after three weeks you were worth the text and it didn’t give your ego a boost at all. Something that Mat didn’t fail to do when you were together at the wedding. You were a big self love, forget about those who don’t want you kinda girl, but God you couldn’t help but want to text him immediately. Your heart sped up and the butterflies in your stomach kicked into overdrive after you saw the text. It wasn’t even a drunk text. It was a casual 3pm text message, which made it hit a little different. “Maybe you could wait like...a week?” Reese said laying back on the couch in your studio apartment scrolling through his phone, not paying you any mind. He was great at getting you into this whole mess, taking you to a wedding you weren’t even invited to. Now he was here and unable to give you any sort of boy advice. At this point in your friendship you should’ve known, but you had no one else who understood the scenario. He was one of your best friends. His legs hanging over the armrest dangling along as you paced back and forth of the apartment, fuzzy socks sliding along the hardwood floor. “You know, I think this whole thing is dumb. Just answer the guy. He texted you for a reason.” The pout on your face said otherwise, you didn’t find this dumb at all. This was a serious matter. “I need more female friends. You are no help. Yesterday you called me a 6 with a personality!” You exclaimed, pushing his legs off the side of the couch making room for yourself to sit down. Throwing yourself onto the couch you feel into a slumped position. “I need someone well versed in hockey boy, you just aren’t cutting it.” Within seconds Reese grabbed your phone off of the coffee table in front of you, unlocking your phone with great ease. It was moments like these where you regretted letting him know all of your passwords. The next moment happened in what felt like slow motion, but as soon as he picked up your phone you knew you were doomed. Reese was always like an older brother figure, someone who could embarrass you in less than a minute. Watching his fingers type away, you attempted to lunge for the phone but it was too late, you never thought he’d follow through with the action, but he did, locking the phone throwing it back at you on the couch. “Six’s with personalities deserve love too.. Or at least a hot hookup.” (Y/N): three weeks and all you got is ‘hey’? You shrieked reading over the text message Reese had sent to Mat in your honor. “Why would you do that? Are you stupid? Is your brain the size of a literal pea?” With that you saw the beginning and end of your short little fling. This was not part of the advice you got from Grace or any of the other girls. In no way would you ever text any male this, except for maybe Reese because he was an absolute moron. Best friend sabotage is what this would be considered. “Reese, I’m going to close my eyes and when I open them I want you to be out of this apartment, and you can only come back after you’ve bought me lots and lots of apology fries.” Eyes closed you heard footsteps, then your front door open, and close. All of it almost distracted you from the small ding that came from your phone with the screen lighting up to show one new text message. It’d hadn’t even been five minutes from ‘your’ original text. Your eyes sprung open, and that funny feeling in your stomach returned. Heart pounding, you picked the cell phone up off your lap letting out a deep sigh. Facial recognition unlocked it within seconds, but it wasn’t really fast enough. In your head you could only imagine the rude things Mat would say about how it was kind of him to even send you a text, or maybe the text would spring back at you because he decided to block your number. Mat Barzal: haha, what r u up to? Mat Barzal: down to chill? You tried not to be instantaneous with your answer and play it a little bit cooler than his double text, which honestly brought a huge grin upon your face. Suddenly you felt as if your apartment was getting warmer, was it the flush brought upon by the texts or were you just getting more and more nervous? The idea of having to pick out a cute outfit and getting out of this old ratty hoodie seemed nearly impossible which added a special level of stress. Counting down from 60 very slowly you decided you would be able to answer his text, enough time had gone by to not seem overly interested. Internally rolling your eyes at yourself for thinking waiting a whole minute was some sort of accomplishment, slowly typing a reply. (Y/N): sure, whats the move? Mat Barzal: finishing up @ the rink, rly craving ice cream if ur cool with that? (Y/N): lol cheat diet already? Sounds perf. Mat Barzal: kk cool, drop me a pin. See u in an hour? After sending Mat your location you liked his message letting him know that worked for you. You felt like you couldn’t really waste time trying to have a conversation through text when you needed to figure out how you were going to go about an ice cream date without flashbacks to any corny and horrible middle school date you had. Just be cool was all you could tell yourself before rummaging through your closet trying not to be the dramatic girl in movies that would say she had nothing to wear with piles and piles of clothes surrounding her. Settling on a pair of your favorite “ass flattering” jeans and a plain white t-shirt. It was only ice cream, you had to remind yourself. There was no reason to do anything more, but you still added a simple necklace and one of those fancy velvet headbands they sell for way too much money after spending a solid 10 minutes scrolling through Sydney Esiason-Martin’s instagram trying to figure out what looked cool. It was almost scary how perfectly exact Mat’s timing was. Right after an hour on the dot you heard a buzz come through to your apartment, letting you know you had a visitor. “I’ll be right down.” you voiced over the intercom, grabbing your keys and bag. It was a five floor walk up to your apartment and you didn’t want to put this boy through any more torture after a practice. You tried not to keep him waiting too long, but you also went at a slower than normal pace giving yourself enough time to breathe. It was just a boy you’d already been out with. How could this be so bad, you tried to remind yourself. He was just a silly boy dancing around shirtless at a wedding. He stood in the entryway of the apartment building looking around at the paintings on the walls, they were cheap and not well done but it gave the appearance that maybe people with money lived here. He was in a blue and orange islanders hockey t-shirt and sweats, his hair was slicked back and damp, clearly from a post practice shower. Since the last time you saw him, he was clean shaven, no little stubble that had scratched your cheeks during sneaky kisses. His hair was also freshly cut, you liked it, but you also found the long hair to be endearing. To be honest you were just so nervous and excited that you couldn’t even tell which hair you liked better, and you didn’t have time to contemplate it as he called for you. “(Y/N).” Mat said catching your eye, he stepped closer to you, bringing you in for a warm hello hug. He smelt like mint mixed with the kind of bar soap you get at hotels, yet at the same time he smelled familiar and homey. “So I was on yelp and there’s this homemade ice cream spot in and I thought maybe we could go and hang for a little.” A smirk slid upon your face maybe a little too soon, “Yelp?” you joked with Mat. Rolling his eyes, he stuck out his hand for you. “Well are we going or not, (Y/N)?” disregarding your subtle dig. Placing your hand in his you followed his lead out of the apartment lobby. Have you ever been on a first date where someone wanted to hold your hand? Maybe at the end of the date, but this was the beginning. You just silently prayed your hand wouldn’t get sweaty in the meanwhile. It was a short drive in Mat’s white cadillac, which you had learned was the butt of many jokes. He let you take the aux cord and play whatever you wanted, which was your current September 2019 playlist. Mat was bopping along to it which gave you little butterflies in your tummy. The way his short hair flopped around and the goofy grin on his face just made your heart melt. This was a boy who in such a quick period of time made you feel like you wanted to be near him 24/7. He had an infectious personality. At one point during the car ride you thought he was singing along to Lizzo, but you didn’t want to call him out. Mat was clearly in his element and so comfortable with you that it all just felt fun and exciting. At a red light, he looked over at you and just smiled. He said nothing, but just moved his hand over to yours. Someone needed to let you know how this boy was driving with one hand, while the other was holding onto your own as his thumb traced back and forth. “Alright, I have two rules for us. First being you need to send me this playlist, and any future playlist you make. Second, don’t let me get anything larger than a medium.” You scrunched up your facing almost saying ‘are you really sure about that’ without any words “And I’m now instituting a third rule… Don’t make that face, it reminds me of my mom.” He said letting out a giant cackle. The one you had originally heard at the wedding. It was so stupid, but you liked hearing it and knowing you were the reason for it. You couldn’t help but laugh along with him. - - - “So I’m thinking two large sugar cones, one for you and one for me. I want cookies and cream, I’m not sure what you plan on having.” You said bumping your hip into Mat as you both stood overlooking the ice cream counter as the teenage girl behind it patiently waited for the official order. “I know you want it and ugh, look.” You said letting out a moan pointing at the barrel of mint chocolate chip. “It’s calling you.” “Shut up, ice cream whisperer.” Mat chuckled bumping you right back, “We’ll get two large sugar cones. She’ll get cookies and cream, I’ll take...hm.. Buttered pecan.” The girl behind the counter just nodded and went to work as you turned to look at him letting out a small laugh. “Buttered pecan? Grandpa is that you?” you said turning up the banter with Mat. If there was something he seemed to appreciate, it was the way you were able to joke around with him. He was a hockey player for God’s sake, he loved to be chirped. “Oh for sure, I’m the hottest grandpa you’ve ever seen. Have you seen my ass in these pants?” Mat said taking his hands and lightly giving his tush a squeeze for dramatic effect, before being cut off by the now very embarrassed girl serving you ice cream. She mumbled the price and before you could even open your purse to grab your wallet Mat had already paid for it. “I’d say you’ll get it next time, but you’re a bad influence, I don’t know if there will be a next time for ice cream.” You just smiled taking a lick of ice cream, finding a table in the back corner trying to give you both a little bit of privacy so you both wouldn’t embarrass each other any longer. It was like those few weeks with no conversation between you two weren’t a thing, everything flowed naturally between you two. From conversations about your job, to what you’d rather be doing than working and him training, to what you both were currently binging on netflix. “The office is just so good. I end up crying because I’m laughing so hard just about every episode.” Mat said finishing off his ice cream. “I need to show you this episode, you have to come to my apartment.” And with that you were whisked away to the Barzal apartment. - - It was surprisingly homey, it was all neutral toned except for bits of a royal blue that would peek out in a throw pillow or picture frame. You couldn’t help but wander the apartment (with Mat trailing), looking at the photos he had hung of his family and friends. “I like this one.” you said pointing to a picture of Mat as a kid, making some sort of silly face with who you presumed was his sister, she was practically his twin, but blonde. “You look the same, haven’t changed a bit. Still as goofy looking.” Mat’s face rolled his eyes once more, rubbing his cheeks with the palms of his hands, then reaching out for your arms holding your wrists gently as his eyes pleaded with you, “Why do you hate me?” he gently shook your arms playfully. A small giggle escaped your lips, “Has your mother ever told you when a girl makes fun of you she likes you?” you said quite boldly, taking a step closer to Mat with his hands still wrapped around your arms. He was so much taller than you, and you hadn’t really noticed until just now when you found yourself looking up at him. His eyes were this piercing green you couldn’t look away from, and you just stood for what felt like forever hoping he would get the hint and kiss you again. It only took him a second before leaning in to place a much gentler kiss than those you shared at the wedding and after party, probably because you were completely sober this time. The soft kisses turned into more passionate ones as he moved the both of you from you standing in the hallway of his apartment to lying on his couch in his living room, him gently on top of you careful not to weigh down his whole body’s weight on yours. Maybe you went on kissing him for ten minutes or hours, you couldn’t tell exactly the time. It was kind of mesmerizing, you were totally lost in this boy, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck that wasn’t as long as you had once noted. His hand slowly tracing up your side, slipping underneath your shirt. God it was only the second date, (Y/N), you tried to tell yourself, but you didn’t pull away, nor did you really try. “Barz? Mat?” was all you heard bringing you two out of your dazed kisses. Pulling your lips away from him as the two of you sat up trying to look as innocent as possible. You didn’t think he had a roommate, but you weren’t quite sure. He really didn’t get that far, and you thought you knew all of his friends, or at least teammates you’d met at the wedding. It was an unfamiliar voice, but a shorter boy with lighter hair walked into the living room with a stupid grin on his face. It would’ve been cute if he hadn’t interrupted. Completely not even noticing you on the couch, he continued to speak, “You’ll never fucking guess who texted me today asking about you...” With that you saw Mat’s face tightened, the happy smiley Mat had disappeared within seconds and you needed to make a mental note of that. Almost as if Mat knew what the boy was going to say. “Tito…” He said distinctly to the boy now standing in front of you two on the couch, it’s like he had seen you with his peripherals but was far too excited to take note of the other human in the room. You couldn’t help, but look down at yourself trying to fix your t-shirt making sure you didn’t look silly… if the boy was to ever take note of the stranger inside Mat's apartment. “No Mat, for real, she said she wanted things to be different, she was thinking of surprising you here.” “Tito” Mat now spoke a little bit louder and firmer than before. It was almost as if it brought his friend from the cloud of happiness that drifted on. Honestly you could tell this was a conversation you weren’t supposed to hear, and it made you a little sick. Another girl? Surprising Mat? Nothing about this sounded promising in the slightest. And it really only got worse for your feelings. “Whitney clearly fucking wants you back. You sat around all summer practically crying to me and now what…you fucking get her back!” “Tito, this is my friend, (Y/N).” Mat said bringing this Tito character out of the clouds and back into Mat’s living room where the three of you were. Tito’s eyes just widened, face getting red. “I-uh, Hello.” He said softly unsure of what more to say. “Mat, this was fun, but uh… I think I’m going to go now.” You said politely standing up, feeling your stomach take a turn. You didn’t even have a ride home. God, it didn’t even matter, you just wanted to leave. Clearly there was some other girl in the picture and it almost disgusted you to know that Mat could act this way with someone when he was clearly interested in some other girl. You reminded yourself once more, boys are disgusting and not to be trusted. “(Y/N), let me give you a ride home.” “No. I’m ok.” You said swiftly showing yourself to the door making sure not to look back at the two boys you had left in the apartment. You honestly weren’t sure how you had gotten to your apartment. It would’ve easily been a twenty minute walk, but you were in such a daze that you sat back on the couch somehow back in your own apartment, surrounded by apology fries from Reese as he tried to coax the story of your date. Maybe you should’ve just seen it coming, it was only the second date and it all felt very silly, you were crushing way too hard. You needed something like this to bring you down to earth. As your thoughts were flying a mile a minute, a ding came from your phone. Your day ending just how it began, with a text from Mat. Mat Barzal: hey.

#WOW THIS TOOK FOREVER AND I DONT EVEN KNOW IF I LIKE IT #mat barzal #mathew barzal #mathew barzal imagine #mat barzal imagine #new york islanders #new york islanders imagine #hockey one shot #hockey oneshot #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #nhl imagine #nhl imagines

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starryviolentine · 4 years

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Color Me Blue (That’s Me Without You): A Pre-Apocalypse Story

(Sequel to Brody’s Diary) The events of a long weekend have twelve-year-old best friends Violet and Brody feeling all kinds of blue. Not quite the homey, familiar blue of a diary cover, nor the glittery liquid blue of their roommate’s nail polish. Gloomier, more melancholy shades of blue.

Part 1/10: Violet

Violet is unbelievably, incredibly bored.

All the students at Ericson’s Boarding School have a four-day weekend this week because of teacher conferences, or training… or something or other – Violet’s not sure of the exact reason, but all she knows is that it’s going be boring and lame because Brody will be gone the entire time, like always. Every time there’s a holiday break or even just a long weekend, the Burress family comes to pick Brody up so they can spend the time together.

Which completely sucks.

Well, not for Brody. Violet’s really happy that her friend gets to do lots of stuff with her family. When Brody comes back she always has interesting stories to tell, and sometimes she even brings back a little trinket as a souvenir for Violet, like one of those really pretty, colorful rocks from the science museum, or one of those pennies that you stick into those machines and it comes out imprinted with a picture. It’s just that it would be cool to be able to hang out with Brody and do those things together instead of being stuck at this boring, lame school.

Their bedroom was dark and quiet this morning, as is usually the case when Brody’s away. Brody’s the one who gets out of bed first and likes to let in the sunshine. If it’s particularly warm and the weather is nice, she’ll open their window and Violet wakes to a gentle breeze that always feels really nice. Their other roommate, Therissa, will sometimes grumble about Brody letting the pollen in or, if she’s really not in a good mood, just bang on the wall from her bunk and tell her to “Shut the damn blinds!”

Without Brody shuffling around the room doing this and that, Therissa, in typical teen fashion, is still sound asleep when Violet finally decides to get up. For a brief moment, the younger girl considers waking her roommate up so she has somebody to eat breakfast with, but she quickly changes her mind. Therissa can be scary when she’s woken up against her will. Violet decides that it’s not worth the risk.

After breakfast, Violet realizes that she has nothing else on her agenda for the day, so she purposely takes the long way back to the dormitories, hoping that she’ll think of something to do on the way. She could go for a walk outside… or practice her dribbling in the gym… or she could hang around the dormitories to see what other losers are stuck at Ericson’s on a long weekend and maybe do something with them. Violet scrunches up her nose at the thought of socializing and shakes her head. Nope. Not today.

And so that’s how Violet finds herself standing outside of the library.

Now, Violet has never been that big on reading. She reads sometimes, but only if there isn’t anything better to do, and only if the reading material is something she really cares about. Violet wanders slowly, aimlessly, running one finger along the spines of the books she passes. Her feet carry her quite effortlessly through the literary labyrinth to a familiar section in the back, near the tables and chairs. Going over to one of the bookcases in particular, she crouches down until she’s eye-level with a row of pastel paperbacks.

It’s a series about a group of teenage babysitters, and although Violet wouldn’t ever read it herself, she knows of a certain auburn-haired girl who’s currently hooked. Brody sped through the first thirty volumes in less than two weeks, and almost every evening before curfew she would drag Violet here so she could return one book and check out another (or two or three). Violet narrows her eyes at the triple digit number on the last volume, wondering how in the world the author could write over a hundred books about the same group of kids and not run out of ideas.

Hand hovering over a book with a yellow cover, Violet pauses and double – no, triple checks the area around her to make sure nobody’s watching. There’s not a soul in sight, but the back of her neck still prickles with embarrassment as she plucks the book from the shelf and flips through the first few pages. Violet just wants to see what Brody finds so fascinating about these books, that’s all.

Before she knows it, though, Violet is fifty pages deep and has nestled herself in a corner, back resting against one of the tall wooden bookcases. Unfortunately for her, she’s so focused on the words lining the pages of the book in her lap that she neither sees nor hears anybody approaching until there’s a shadow looming over her. Violet jumps and slams the book shut as her cheeks start to burn. Taking a moment to mentally prepare herself to face whoever just caught her red-handed reading what could honestly be the most embarrassing book series in the world, she slowly lifts her head while throwing in a quick prayer that it’s nobody she knows.

By some miracle, it’s not Marlon… or Mitch, both of whom Violet is certain would never let her live this down. She’s lucky that it’s nobody from her class, either. And thank god it’s not Therissa. Violet counts her lucky stars for that because her roommate would definitely tease her about this for the next century… and would absolutely tell Brody about it when she gets back.

It’s actually the school librarian, Mrs. Wilson, who’s looking down at Violet with a soft, apologetic smile. “Didn’t mean to startle you, dear. I just thought you might be more comfortable moving to one of the chairs over over there.”

“No! Um, no thank you,” Violet hastily replies, scrambling to her feet and tucking the book back into its space on the shelf. Now that she’s been seen, she has no intention of sticking around. “I-I have to go anyway.”

The blonde hightails it out of the library without looking back. Mrs. Wilson is probably the kindest, most helpful lady in this entire school, but Violet’s been in a strange sort of mood all morning and kind of just wants to be alone. Her library encounter leaves her feeling as though there’s nowhere safe to go without potentially running into somebody else, so, instead of continuing her little detour, Violet begrudgingly returns to the dorms.

She wonders if Therissa’s awake yet.

Ever since the whole bell tower incident, things have been a lot better between them. Of course, old habits die hard and Therissa is still Therissa, but she doesn’t rag on her and Brody as much anymore. They’ve been talking a lot more, too.

And it’s not that Violet’s hoping to hang out with her roommate today or anything like that. She’s just so bored and… well, it might be kind of fun to pester the teen for a bit. To kill time, of course.

Definitely not because she’s lonely without Brody.

#twdg brody #twdg violet #brody twdg #violet twdg #twdg #the walking dead game #fanfic #guess who's back #back again #i missed my pre apocalypse babies #color me blue

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littlesugarwords · 4 years

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Walking Dead Game FanFiction - “Sweet Memories”

Title: Sweet Memories Characters: Clementine, AJ, Louis, Marlon Summary: Without knowing AJ and Clem’s history with Kenny, Louis challenges AJ to a shadow puppet making competition one night to help AJ sleep. Clem finds them laughing hysterically together and, without them noticing, looks at both of them lovingly - the same way she did when she found AJ watching Louis play the piano. After AJ falls asleep and Louis tucks him in, he gets up from the floor and spots Clementine. All she can do is blink back happy tears. Author's Note: I’m so happy with this one yay!!! Requested By: Anonymous support me with ko-fi ♡ ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

When Clementine heard happy, giddy laughter from the base of the watchtower, she felt an odd wave of calm pass over her.

Clementine was on look out duty that night and, like most of the times when Clem was on the graveyard shift, AJ didn’t want to sleep. “If you get to stay up, I want to stay up too.” He’d always say, even though Clementine hated that excuse.

Clem had raised a brow. She didn’t exactly know how well Louis would be as a babysitter, but really, she didn’t have a lot of other options. So, eventually, she gave in.

After half an hour of her shift had passed with nothing warranting any need for panic, she heard the familiar sweet, gentle giggle flutter up to her position from the ground below. Peering over the ledge, Clementine’s eyes widened. While initially she’d been worried about what exactly ‘babysitter Louis’ would mean, an aerial shot of their camp had her fairly impressed.

Louis had set up a white sheet on a cluster of boxes, draping it over them and creating a make-shift wall. He’d set it up in front of one of Ericson’s picnic benches, followed by snapping on one of their few flashlights and shining it at the sheet.

“Now this is gonna be fun.” Clem heard him say.

AJ was giggling excitedly, folding his hands into each other, beaming at the soon-to-be screen before him. “How do you do it? How does it work?”

“Like this,” Louis said. Gracefully, Clem watched as Louis contorted his fingers in front of the flashlight. First, he held up a peace sign, showing the level of magnification. Then, he made a simple talking mouth.

AJ burst into another fit of giggles, and another wave of calm and joy fell over Clem’s shoulders. He was having fun, even if he was getting no sleep. To that, Clem didn’t care much. How long had it been since she’d heard a genuine laugh from the boy? A laugh of unadulterated joy? It was so rare those days to have such gleeful fun. He could take losing sleep to live through the moment.

And she could risk not watching the quiet forest for a few more minutes to bask in his joy.

“Here, you can make animals too.”

AJ’s eyes lit up like stars. “What? How?”

Cheekily, grinning from ear to ear at how well he was entertaining the child, Louis took a moment to get his fingers into the proper position, then slipped his hand in front of the flashlight. There before them was a somewhat distorted, and only slightly sloppy, shadow of a rooster.

AJ giggled, amazed at how Louis could contort his hands in such a way.

From up above, Clementine rested her cheek in one of her palms, smiling, feeling a warmth settle in her cheeks.

AJ took a moment to glance down at his own fingers, studying them before studying the way Louis had his shaped. Finally, he slapped them down into his lap.“Can you make any others?”

Louis smirked. “Oh, I’m a master. I definitely can.”

Clementine chuckled. Luckily she was too high up for her laughter to be noted. She couldn’t wait until her shift was over. Then she’d be able to sit down and join them if they were still going that late. The thought that she might miss out promoted a frown, the warmth in her cheeks beginning to fade.

Louis contorted his fingers again, smiling as he placed them in front of the flashlight.

This time, AJ didn’t react. He stared with a blank expression at the sheet before them. Finally, he glanced over, eyeing Louis’ hopeful and cheeky grin. “What is it?”

His grin fell. “It’s a rabbit.”

AJ snorted. “That’s a rabbit?”

Louis’ jaw dropped playfully. Sitting off to the side, Clementine smirked, biting her lower lip to hold back a laugh. “Okay tough stuff, show me what you got.” Louis said, crossing her arms and puffing out his lower lip. “Show me your rabbit. Let’s see how much better you are.”

AJ smirked, hovering his hand over the propped up flashlight. He took his time contorting his fingers, using his free hand to mould them into the proper shape. Sure enough, in no time at all there was a picture perfect shadow puppet of a rabbit. Clementine hadn’t seen one that perfect since Kenny had done shadow puppets with them.

She felt a jab in her chest; a wave of nostalgia that hit her with such force she felt taken aback by it.

There was no way that AJ remembered it, he had only been a baby when they’d been entertaining him with it, but she remembered it. She remembered it well. It was one of the last fond memories she remembered having with Kenny.

She watched them for a while longer, finding it blissfully how much fun the two of them were having with things as simple as a flashlight and a bed sheet. But it was wholesome, and sweet, and reminded her of the life the two of them had prior to Ericson.

It reminded her of their previous family.

As the night waned on, and as the night drew colder, Clementine watched as Louis grabbed a blanket to wrap AJ up in. Their giddiness with making shadow puppets had since passed, and instead Louis had settled on telling him a story.

“Can you make it a scary story?” AJ asked.

“You gotta sleep at some point tonight, AJ.”

AJ puffed out his lower lip. “Scary stories don’t scare me.”

Louis raised an eyebrow to challenge him, but AJ didn’t budge. Louis settled on telling him on what he labelled as a ‘scary story’ but was really just a tall tale he remembered his own parents telling him whenever they went camping; about Bigfoot and his family.

Clementine glanced further over the edge, watching AJ lie down in the grass, rolled up in his blanket with Louis at his side, rattling off his story as AJ curled into the ground.

A few minutes passed, Clementine unable to hear what exactly was occurring in the story down below, when she felt a shift on the platform. She jumped, the sweet mist gathering in her eyes vanishing. Sure enough, approaching the top of the platform from the ladder was Marlon, his hands in his pockets the moment he hit the top.

“Marlon,” she breathed.

“Wanna go down there?”

Clem blinked, confused at first of what he was asking. As he nodded toward the edge of the platform, and as Clementine followed his gaze, she understood. Once her stare met his again, she meekly nodded. “I’d like that.”

He smirked as he planted his hands on his hips. Despite how strict Marlon could be, his heart was often in the right place. Besides, he knew how much AJ meant to Clementine. He’d never stand in the way of her spending valuable time with him.

“I’ll cover the rest of your shift.” He said, wandering up beside her and leaning against the railing. “Get down there.”

She blinked. “Really?”

All he did was nod.

She hesitated, then smiled, then slowly felt the mist in her eyes seep back in. She nodded thankfully, not saying another word as she made her way down the ladder, scurrying as quickly as possible.

As she hit the ground, she spotted a sight that left her lost in awe. Louis sat beside AJ, smiling down at him and adjusting the blanket holding the child. AJ was out cold, nuzzled deep into the blanket, eyelashes fluttering as he dreamed.

But when Louis knelt down, ready to sweep the child into his arms and carry him to bed, that’s when Clementine could feel the breath catch in her throat.

Louis was so sweet to him. To all of them, but to AJ in specific. Clementine had expected the exact opposite from a group of teenagers. She’d assumed all of them would write AJ off as nothing more than a liability, but not only did they enjoy having AJ there, they actively spent time with him. They were kind to him, and gentle toward him, and treated him with love and care unlike anyone else.

Clementine hadn’t seen anyone that kind and patient with him since Kenny.

She could feel tears lodge in her throat and warm her vision at the thought of his name.

“Oh hey Clem.” Louis said softly, not wanting his words to disrupt the peace in the air. He moved his arms away from AJ, temporarily giving up on moving him inside. Instead, he drew closer to the girl. “I thought your shift didn’t end until 3?”

Clementine gulped, the overwhelming tears gathering in her eyes blocking her view.

Louis hesitated, watching the way her hands were clenching, the way she was blinking, the way she shifted from foot to foot. “Clem?” He asked, gaze tender and soft. His brows knitted together. “What’s wrong?” The closer he drew, the deeper he could see her tears went. He reached out, clasping his hands firmly on her shoulders, his head dipping in. “What’s got you sad?”

She completely shattered. Through a sad smile, a strangled sob escaped her lips. She buried her face into his chest, locking her arms around his back and taking a deep breath of the familiar, homey smell. “Thank you.” She whispered.

Louis froze at first, confused and hurt seeing Clementine distressed. He wrapped his arms around her, settling his lips on the top of her head. “For what?” He whispered, his fingers tracing circles into her jacket.

“For being so good to him.”

Louis froze again, the hands that were rubbing at her back and hair pausing. He only hesitated for a moment, registering what she meant before his motions slowly resumed. To that, all he could do was smile, resting a cheek against the top of her hat. “Always.”

And she knew he was telling the truth.

She knew because now, and always, this was their real, true home. Not because of location: because of the people.

And Marlon, watching their sweet exchange from the watchtower, thought the exact same thing. ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

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hotforharrison · 5 years

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Heart’s Desires ch 1

Series Masterlist --> Chapter 2

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield/Reader

Summary: In a desperate moment, you make Harrison an offer he can’t refuse.

Word Count: 2,239

Warnings: Language and sexual content that is not actually smut.

A/N: It was supposed to be a oneshot, inspired by a dream I had. That obviously didn’t happen. It has been upgraded from oneshot to a mini-series.

Seeing the world had always been on your bucket list, but you’d never made it farther than a couple of states over. Time, and your youth, were passing by at an alarming rate. You knew your life needed to change, and soon, while you still had the chance to enjoy it.

You’d been browsing your options for a change online for a few months. Nothing struck you as something you could see yourself doing, temporarily or permanently. You toyed with the idea of teaching English internationally, but you didn’t want to be completely alone across the world from everything and everyone you knew.

When an online friend from London brought up that her company was opening a new location near her and hiring over 100 people in your field, you jumped at the chance to apply. You wouldn’t be alone, and you wouldn’t have to worry about not speaking the local language.

You assumed there would be thousands of more qualified, more local applicants and didn’t expect anything to come of it. However, after a lengthy interview process, they hired you with a start date in four months, after the facility was opened. You’d never been more excited, and simultaneously overwhelmed.

Your life quickly started to drastically change. A few very busy months later that included packing up what you could of your life and moving it across the Atlantic Ocean, you were settling into your new apartment with your online friend turned roommate. She was fortunately as lovely as she had been online, and it looked like she would be a great roommate.

You gave yourself two full weeks to relax and sightsee before you started your new job and day-to-day living in London. Things were definitely looking up for you.

London was really a beautiful city, and you thoroughly enjoyed exploring, both with your roommate and alone. After an enjoyable afternoon perusing the Camden Market by yourself, you were waiting in line at a Starbucks, mostly for the familiarity. There were no decisions there. You already knew your Starbucks order by heart.

The person standing behind you bumped into you hard, almost making you fall. You immediately turned around to see who it was, and if they were hurt, when you saw him. He looked exactly like Harrison Osterfield. “Oh my god.”

“Sorry, love, I didn’t mean to bump into you,” he told you, looking at you with striking blue eyes.

He also sounded like Harrison, from his Instagram stories and YouTube videos. Your mouth dropped open, and you were having trouble forming words. Could it really be him? He did live in London after all.

“Everything alright?” he asked, concern evident across his face. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, I just… you look like someone,” you eventually said, rather than outright ask.

He seemed amused. “And who do I look like?”

“Uh, Harrison Osterfield? You’ve probably never heard of him. Sadly, most people haven’t, which is really a shame,” you responded.

“That might be because I am Harrison Osterfield,” he commented.

“Holy shit,” you mumbled. “This is probably, I mean I was wondering.” You paused and took a deep breath. “Would you like to hang out with me sometime? Don’t feel obligated or anything. I mean I’m some random girl from Starbucks who you know absolutely nothing about, and I, uh, yeah, I probably shouldn’t have opened my mouth, but I can’t take that back, and now here we are.”

“You mean like a date?” he asked, cocking his head.

“Yes? That is, if you’d be interested at all, and if you’re not seeing anyone. I wouldn’t want to step on any toes,” you quickly added, feeling your face blushing deeply. “God, I’m really bad at this.”

He chuckled. “I’m not seeing anyone, and don’t worry, it’s endearing. I don’t mind cute girls getting flustered over me. Anyway, I’m free for the rest of the day. You’re obviously not from around here. Have you been to the British Museum yet?”

You were surprised he said you were ‘cute,’ considering all the gorgeous girls he probably sees daily and has a chance with. You were completely shocked that he agreed to spend time with you, on an actual date, in his own words.

“You’re right. I’m definitely not from around here. I actually just moved to London a few days ago. The British Museum was on my sightseeing list before I start my new job,” you told him.

He smiled at you brightly. “Looks like we have a date, then!”

-----

You’d spent the last 45 minutes walking around the British Museum and looking at exhibits. It was a great museum. The exhibits were interesting, but Harrison was distracting you from fully appreciating them because you’d been crushing on him for ages, and you were actually on a date with him.

You occasionally chatted quietly with him between exhibits, which was pleasant enough. You would’ve liked to talk more, but you were feeling rather awkward. Regardless of the unbeatable company you were in, you were kind of bored and really wanted to be somewhere else with him. He seemed to be bored, too, but too nice to say anything.

You had a sinking feeling that your once in a lifetime date wasn’t going to end with plans for a repeat performance, or an invite back home for the night, and god, you wanted that invite, more than just about anything.

Since he hadn’t, you decided to bring it up. “I hate to ask, but are you having fun?”

He turned to look at you. “Honestly?”

You nodded.

“Not really. I’m sorry, love,” he told you, moving a hand to your arm to squeeze it comfortingly.

“Before you go, I very much don’t want this to be over yet, and, well...” You swallowed heavily and blurted out the first thing that came to mind, “what if I told you after we leave here that you could do anything, and I mean anything, to me that your heart desires?”

“Really now?” He smirked. “My opinion could be swayed. You have absolutely no idea what you just agreed to.”

“But I take it I’m going to find out?” you guessed, hopeful that your time with him wasn’t coming to an end.

“Very soon.” His fingers trailed their way to your hand and ran across your palm teasingly, sending a wave of tingling down your arm and intensifying the dull ache that had been between your thighs since you met him. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

You followed him silently, wondering what you’d gotten yourself into, simultaneously excited and nervous. Your mission was accomplished, though. Your date wasn’t over, hopefully not by a long shot, and you got that invite back home.

And, really, what could he be into that was that scary? Online he seemed to be nothing but a sweetheart, and there had been nothing in person that had indicated anything different.

----

Harrison took you to a large brownstone house well away from the hustle and bustle of downtown London. He descended the steps at the side of the house until he reached the entrance to what you assumed was a basement apartment. He fumbled through the keys on his keyring before he found the one he was looking for and unlocked the door, ushering you inside.

The apartment was rather barren and looked barely used. Maybe he was just away a lot? “Not to judge or anything, but I expected your place to be more...homey.”

“It is,” he said. “This isn’t where I live.”

“Oh, so you just take girls here...for privacy?” you guessed.

“Sort of. You’ll see.” He led you by the hand down a hallway to a room, opening the door and turning on the light.

The room was quite large and had a variety of furniture that you could place as something used in BDSM. It wasn’t anything you were familiar with. You hadn’t even read Fifty Shades of Grey or seen any of the movies when they came out. Now, you kind of wished you had.

The only thing you could definitely identify was a four-poster against the far wall, metal slats across the top and some restraints hanging on the side. It had no bedding, only a fitted sheet and pillows. The corners had restraints attached. That seemed pretty straightforward. The rest, not so much.

“Go ahead, look around,” he encouraged.

“I’m not sure what I’m looking at, to be honest,” you told him.

“I can take you on a tour, and then you can let me know what you think. We’ll start with something basic.” He led you to a black padded bench that looked kind of like a saw horse with two small attachments for what you assumed were knees and arms. The top had a half circle shaped, more heavily padded neck rest. “That’s a bondage bench. I use it to position and restrain a sub for spanking, or fucking, or whatever else I’m in the mood for.”

“Okay,” you said quietly. That didn’t sound particularly terrifying. Not really anything you’d fantasized about in the past, but you weren’t opposed.

You glanced over at the second nearest piece of furniture. There was a swing hanging from the ceiling near it with a larger piece of leather, what looked to be support straps at its sides, and four cuffs attached by a chain at each corner.

“That’s a sex sling. It’s easier to move a sub around and eat her, or fuck her, or play with her mid-air,” he explained.

“Okay,” you repeated. That also didn’t sound scary, as long as the sling was securely attached to the ceiling, and it seemed to be.

“Anything you’re particularly curious about?” he asked.

You looked at a metal device that was I-shaped with a long bar coming from the front, ending in a circle. The other end had a shorter bar attached to a machine with a thin metal rod protruding from it. “What’s that?”

He chuckled. “That of all things? That’s the slave driver. It’s a fucking machine with restraints. Your neck goes there.” He pointed at the circle. “Your wrists and ankles are restrained at either end with cuffs. And a toy fitted for the machine attaches to this.” He gestured at the thin metal rod. “I can show you the attachments, if you like.”

That was more overwhelming, and sounded like it would be embarrassing, but it didn’t make you want to run away. You took that as a positive.

You followed him as he walked over to a set of drawers near the bed and opened a middle drawer, urging you to come closer. “There’s several different sizes of dildos, a couple of double penetrating dildos, and some plugs.”

You looked at them, some startlingly large. Your experience with sex toys was rather limited, but you weren’t turned off by it. You picked up the smallest dildo and ran your fingers over the soft silicone for a few moments, enjoying the feel of the material against your skin, then put it back in its place.

“So, after a small preview, are you scared?” he asked.

“I’m...nervous, but curious,” you replied, before adding, “and still really, really turned on. That might be more you than the things in this room, though.”

He chuckled. “So you’ve never done anything kinky before?”

You shook your head. “God, this is embarrassing, but I’ll be honest. I can count the number of sexual experiences I’ve had with other people on one hand, and the most adventurous out of all of them was trying to have sex in the backseat of a car. Keyword ‘trying.’ It didn’t really work.”

“Poor girl, so neglected. If you want, I can change that. I promise that I’d take such good care of you. Only the best for my subs,” he promised. “And don’t be embarrassed. I have an innocence kink, and you don’t even have to pretend to be innocent. Works out well for both of us.”

You swallowed heavily, not entirely sure what you were getting yourself into, but your arousal hadn’t ebbed the tiniest bit in the face of all the possibilities. “I think I’d like to at least try, but I’ll leave what I’m trying up to you.”

He grinned. “That’s the answer I was hoping for. I like options and giving them to my subs, or potential subs in the case of you. Would you like to jump right in and play in here right now, or get to know me a bit better and maybe try some tamer things first in the actual bedroom where I take my partners to sleep? With your lack of experience, it’d be less intimidating. I really don’t get off on making my subs afraid.”

You considered your options. “I think I’d like the actual bedroom first. It’s, well, it’s been a while, and I don’t want it to be too much, in the bad way.”

“We can do that. So, you want me to ease you in gently?” he asked.

“Please,” you confirmed.

He took your hand in his and squeezed it. “It will be my pleasure, pretty girl. Are you ready to go to the bedroom, or do you want to look around more in here?”

Your desperation for him made that easy. “Definitely the bedroom.”

The promise of what was to come sent a shiver of anticipation through you.

Tag list:

@bewitched-haz @adayasgeorgia @moorehollandplz @thollandss@dasexydevitt13 @imagine-lovebug @robbinholland @strang-ersclub @hollandisapuppy @goldenpeaxh @legendsofwholock @superheroesaremytea @tomblrholland @niiight-dreamerrrr @spidermanffh3000 @devildisguiseasangel @theyy-lovemo @eeyore101247 @angelhaz11 @i-love-scott-mccall @jinx4karma @definitely-not-black-cat @lizzyosterfield @screamsbytom

#harrison osterfield #haz osterfield #harrison osterfield x you #harrison osterfield x y/n #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield smut #harrison osterfield imagine #harrison osterfield reader #harrison osterfield reader insert #harrison osterfield you

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timelesstempo · 5 years

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salt water | bang chan

(1/9) stray kids u.s destinations series

destination: Hawaii, U.S.A

wc: 2.8k

genre: fluff, super tiny bit of angst bc of fear

a/n: i really hope you guys enjoy this! please please tell me if you like it! as stated above, this is the start of a series! each member will have a place in the u.s. that i’ve visited! thank you for any feedback and i love you all!

summary: snorkeling in Hawaii isn’t all it is cracked up to be; good thing you have the best hype man/boyfriend in the world to help you overcome your fears and join you in one of the most magical experiences of your life

stray kids masterlist | main masterlist

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“Babe, come on! The water feels so good!” your boyfriend Chan exclaims while reaching back to take your slightly shaking hand.

The crystal waters of a Hawaiian tidal pool, bustling with life and tons of interesting creatures to gaze at, sits before you. However, you are not prepared to do what it takes to view that underwater world; snorkeling.

The thought of sticking your face into water already terrifies you, let alone the unnerving mask and mouthpiece you have to wear and the possibility of brushing up against any unknown creatures that could be lurking around you.

You had avoided snorkeling throughout your entire trip to the gorgeous Big Island, opting for kayaking on the private waters that came along with the house Chan rented for the week, keeping your head above water. He had immediately jumped into the large lagoon with a snorkel mask attached to his handsome face the minute you arrived at the house and were given the OK from the landlord.

You envy your boyfriend’s nonchalant and excited attitude towards snorkeling. It really does look fun, especially after hearing his tales of the gorgeous schools of fish that swim between the rocks. Growing up swimming in Australia definitely gave him a natural love for the sea; there’s practically salt water in his veins.

The worst part of your fear is that you desperately want to do it; you want to see the ocean and share this wonderful experience with the man you love, but you just can’t bring yourself to stick your face in the water despite wearing the goggles that are supposed to protect it.

Not only do you want to see the colorful little fish that inhabit the lagoon, but also the sea turtles and small shark you know reside in the lagoon next door. More than anything though, you want to be able to see the enormous manta rays that you have scheduled to visit at the end of the week. The experience of swimming with manta rays is something you seriously do not want to miss out on due to your fear of something as simple as salt water in your eyes.

Chan knows about your fear and has tried his best to encourage you and comfort you throughout the trip. Today he made the decision to help you get over your fear. He wanted to see your bright smile when you realize that snorkeling isn’t scary and that you can now see a whole new world because of it. He convinces you to come with him down to the lagoon and ditch the kayak paddle for a snorkel mask.

“Chan, I seriously don’t think I can do this,” you announce to him as you slowly step into the water closer to him and take his outstretched hand.

“I know you can, my love. It’s all in your head. I’m right here to make sure you’re safe, okay? And you know I only want you to do this because I know how upset with yourself you will be if you don’t,” Chan answers. His Aussie accent seems thicker, perhaps because of the homey feeling he gets in the ocean.

“You’re right. Okay, please just don’t... don’t let go of my hand,” you beg.

“I wouldn’t even dream of it,” he replies with a smile. “Are you ready?”

You take in a shaky breath and softly nod. He pulls your hand, leading you further into the cool water toward the rocks where most of the fish are usually gathered. Soon the water is up to your chest.

Chan stops and turns to you. “Okay, let’s put your mask on.”

Those words alone are enough to make your heart beat faster. Chan helps adjust the strap so the mask fits your head, looking into your panicked eyes when he deems it secure.

“Hey, you’re okay. I’m right here. Nothing is going to happen to you, I promise. You can do this.”

He smiles in an effort to encourage you and then leans down to place his now masked face in the water, gesturing for you to do the same.

You put your face as close to the water as possible but stop before dunking your head under. You can’t do this. It’s too much. Chan notices that you haven’t come under and lifts himself back up to look at you.

“(y/n), hey baby, you can do this. I believe in you. What is scaring you so much? Can I help?” He asks pushing stray hairs caught in your mask away. You take the mask off to explain.

“I don’t even know. You know how much I don’t like water in my face. I feel like I’ll drown or something if I open my eyes even though I have the mask on,” you answer with your head down.

“That’s okay, honey. Just take a deep breath and try again. You will get it eventually. It might take practice, but this is the only way to conquer your fear, yeah?” He glances at you for confirmation that you understand him. You nod in answer.

“Okay, let’s try again. Try opening your eyes. I promise it’s not scary and I’m right here.” You nod again and he ducks his head under once more.

You take a few deep breaths in an effort to calm yourself and just go for it. You place your face in the water and stay there for a second with your eyes closed. Unbeknownst to you, Chan isn’t watching the water around him, but watching your face for signs of fear.

You open your eyes and instantly regret it. Your breathing stops and you whip your head up quickly, ripping your snorkel mask off. You immediately begin to cry out of fear but mostly frustration. Before you can process it or even open your eyes, Chan has his arms wrapped around you and your trembling body pulled close to his bare chest.

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay, sweetheart. You did a great job. I’m so proud of you. You’re alright. I’m here.” He shushes you and rubs your back. He hates seeing you so upset, especially because he’s the one that encouraged you to do this.

“I-I’m sorry Chan. I c-can’t do it,” you sob into his chest.

“Don’t be sorry, honey. It’s alright. You were so brave.” He holds you for a few minutes and then pulls away, wiping the salt water from your cheeks that he wishes was from the sea instead of your beautiful eyes.

“Do you... want to stop? We can keep trying if you want or we can just call it done for today,” he questions.

You think for a few seconds. You can’t just give up. You want to make Chan proud and you really want to see the fish and the manta rays. With fear and anxiety still swimming in your heart, you look up at him.

“I want to do this.”

He smiles. “Okay, let’s do this!”

After an hour of working your way into being comfortable snorkeling, you finally get the hang of it. Though you can still feel your heart beating out of your chest, you’ve conquered your fear and feel on top of the world. Chan can’t contain his excitement and pride, attacking you with kisses with praises falling from his lips left and right.

He takes you over to where he knows all the fish linger. A school of bright yellow fish swim around each other as if moved by the ocean’s current rather than their own self-influence. A small black and white eel moves out from its hiding place behind a lava rock to see what the two large visitors are doing in its territory before swimming away out of sight.

You spend the rest of the afternoon with Chan introducing you to the underwater world he previously familiarized himself with and wants to share with you.

You notice later that night that, just like he promised, at no point during the time you were in the water did he ever let go of your hand.

~ | ~ | ~ | ~

The warm summer wind blows your hair every which way as the small boat that is taking you to visit the manta rays speeds across the Kona reef. The sun is beginning its descent and the moon peaks out of the pink clouds.

You and Chan, along with the other passengers, are dressed in tight wet-suits that make you feel life a human marshmallow. Chan somehow still manages to look attractive in the awkward outfit.

The boat is small and intimate, creating a family-like atmosphere with the small group of strangers. The family towards the back of the boat takes pictures with one another and the small children squeal as the water splashes on their faces. The only other person besides you and Chan, the family, and the two-man crew, is one of the crew member’s great aunt, an elderly lady who appears to be a natural on these excursions. You catch her multiple times smiling over at you and Chan with stars in her eyes and an almost reminiscent look on her face. You’re suddenly very grateful that Chan booked this smaller tour rather than the larger 50-person tours.

The captain slows his vessel to a stop after about 20 minutes, killing the engine then preparing for the excursion. He and his younger mate hand out snorkel masks and flippers. Your nerves spike for a moment when you are handed your mask until your boyfriend grabs your hand and places a calming kiss to the back of it.

Once everyone is ready to enter the water, the captain gives the okay and one by one all of you hop off the back ladder into the cold ocean. Chan goes before you so he can be there to catch you despite you wearing a buoyant suit and holding a lime green pool noodle. After the both of you are in the water, you follow the rest of the party toward the young guide to begin what will be one of the most magical moments of your life.

Somehow you are not as nervous as you were a few days ago with snorkeling; maybe its the comfort of the curly blonde-headed man next to you holding tightly onto your hand. Chan already has his goggles on and his face in the water. You join him, taking a deep breath and trying to calm your rapidly beating heart.

Your breath is taken away, not because of fear, but because you’ve never seen anything as amazing as what you see in front of you. Ginormous manta rays glide through the water just under you in the deep blue ocean. Their graceful movements look like a choreographed routine, flipping and turning to the beat of the ocean waves. The small sun rays that still penetrate the water glisten off their black and white bodies. Among them, hundreds of tiny colorful fish drift through the water, most of them in and on out of the rocks behind you.

You pull on Chan’s hand, pointing to any and every thing you see that you don’t want him to miss. He looks at you with a smile and a nod when he notices what you’re referring to.

Sure, he loves this underwater world and seeing creatures he never even knew he would in his lifetime, but his favorite part of the experience is seeing you overcome your fear and the sparkle and pure joy in your eyes as you take in the ocean life.

Soon the free snorkel time is over and its time to begin the manta ray “feeding.” You, Chan, and the other members of your tour all follow the instructions of the guide, grabbing onto the modified surfboard’s handles. The surfboard has a light on the bottom that attracts plankton, a manta ray’s only food source.

Once the sun has gone down, leaving only small streaks of light left on the horizon, the guide leads the group over a specific spot and then tells your group to lay as flat on the water as possible.

You give Chan an excited but equally nervous face and he mirrors the expression. He places his hand on top of yours that holds tightly to the rope handle. He keeps it there to calm you both.

For a little while, nothing happens and you wait anxiously for whatever is supposed to happen. Then suddenly you hear your guide yell so everyone can hear. “Okay, everyone! There’s one coming from my right! Stay completely still and don’t touch it!”

You try your best to turn your head and see the creature, but before you even have the chance, the largest animal you’ve ever seen comes up from under you. It’s upside down, its stomach all you can see. It’s mouth could swallow you and Chan both whole in one bite but it won’t. You lightly squeal in a mix of fear and excitement. The fascinating creature is just 2 feet from your face.

Once it flips back over, its mouth full of its dinner, it swims back into the dark depths of the sea. You look at Chan again with an awestruck look. You hear him exclaim in excitement. Your beach boy looks like a kid in a candy store right now and you couldn’t be happier to experience this with him.

The graceful, almost magical, creatures continue to feed off the plankton your light board provides for close to 30 more minutes until your guide decides it is time to leave the reef and head back to shore.

Chan lets you onto the boat first, helping you as you go. The two of you resume sitting near the front of the boat by the captain after putting away your gear and grabbing a complimentary drink from the cooler.

Both you and Chan unzip your dripping suits, leaving you in your swimwear, letting the wind dry your skin and salty hair. Chan leans back in his seat and wraps his arm around you, prompting you to lay your head on his wet shoulder. The boat starts back up and takes off from the reef.

The sun is almost completely gone now, a pink tint to the sky reflects on Chan’s handsome face and clusters of stars begin to appear above you. He turns his head that was watching the water to you and places loving kisses on the top of your head.

“I’m so proud of you, baby. I knew you could do it. I’m so glad I got to experience that with you.”

“Me too. Thank you for helping me over my fear. I couldn’t have done it without you. You know, you really are a natural in the water. Are you sure you’re not a merman?” you tease him.

He scoffs, “I’m sure, sweetpea. I’m just that talented.” He smirks at you, letting out a laugh when you lightly punch his arm for being cheeky.

The elderly lady that had resumed her place across from you two smiles over at you.

“I remember what it was like to be young and in love. You two are a beautiful couple.”

Your heart warms at her kind words. The two of you engage in a conversation that lasts for the remainder of the ride. Meanwhile, your boyfriend stares at you in awe: from the way you smile when you talk to your new friend, to the way your hair is now frizzy and slightly tangled due to the weather and wind. He’s never been more in love with you.

The boat arrives at the dock sooner than you thought it would. You stand on the old wooden walkway as you say a goodbye to your new friend. Before leaving, she slips you two pieces of wrapped lychee candy.

“These were my husband’s favorite candy. I wish you and this handsome young man happiness for the rest of your lives. Thank you for provoking this old woman to take a trip down memory lane.” She grabs both yours and Chan’s hands, giving you a warm smile before walking away to find her nephew.

You turn to Chan with small tears in your eyes, wrapping your arms around his neck. He places his hands around your waist on your lower back. Your hands reach up to run your fingers through his curls.

“I love you,” you whisper. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you swimming with manta rays, eating lychee candy, and everything in between.”

Chan places his forehead against yours. “I love you too, and I want nothing more in the world than to be with you forever.”

You reach up and place your lips against his, pouring every ounce of love and gratefulness for this man into it. He reciprocates your kiss quickly, pulling you closer to him.

The sound of waves crashing on the dock echo in your ears. The wind chills your skin and you feel the recently familiar sprinkles of rain begin to fall over you.

You pull away from Chan with a giggle.

“What is it?” he asks with a smile.

You reach up and give him another peck on impulse, unable to resist him. You smile at him again, twisting his curls between your slightly pruned fingers. He sighs into your touch.

“Your lips taste like salt water.”

#oh my GOD i hope this is good #i really like it and i'm pretty proud of it #anyway! this is starting a new series! please tell me what you think of this!#bang chan #stray kids chan #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids soft hours #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fic #stray kids series #stray kids fluff #bang chan x reader #bang chan imagines #bang chan soft hours #bang chan scenarios #bang chan fic #bang chan fluff

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vaguely-concerned · 4 years

Text

To be shielded from the ocean

Gen, 1600 words, a young Boba Fett has a bad dream and learns a new trick. Just some soft father and son feelings

Can also be found here on AO3

-- -- --

He dreams of a man with his father’s face and his father’s voice, his father’s way of walking and speaking, even his father’s armor — his father in every way, except when this man looks at Boba he doesn’t love him. This man looks at him like he doesn’t know who he is, and like if he did know he wouldn’t care.

The dream shifts. His dad’s helmet lying abandoned on the empty rain-slicked landing platform, his father’s second face without him behind it. Boba picks up the helmet and clutches it against his chest. Dad wouldn’t leave it behind if he’d had a choice. He would never go anywhere without telling Boba first.

Everything is wrong. He can’t find his dad anywhere, and the tall thin silhouettes of the Kaminoans serenely tell him to wait quietly until he comes back, like a good boy. Their wide eyes follow him with a vast clinical hunger barely concealed, as if they want to take him apart to see how he works inside. Well, he won’t give them the chance; he runs. He can’t find his dad anywhere, and no one will tell Boba where he’s gone — if he’s on a job or if it’s a game or if something bad has happened and he needs Boba’s help, and the panic climbs up his throat like it means to choke him as he runs through the long pearlescent-white hallways with the helmet clasped to his chest and finds nothing but strangers who look like family, or family who look at him like he’s a stranger, he doesn’t know which one is right, and he just wants his dad, why isn’t his dad here, he said he’d come right home after —

His foot slips and then he’s falling, hurtling towards the choppy lead grey waves and boundless indifference of the ocean, his fingers still grasping at the helmet even as it starts to slip away.

Boba jerks awake before he hits the water, though his heart is hammering in his chest until it almost makes him feel seasick.

In his bedroom there’s only oppressive darkness and the ever-present sound of rain against the window; the scrape of his own breathing in his throat won’t ease. The remnants of the dream rest uneasily in the pit of his stomach, like when you’re falling or when you’re about to throw up. He wants to cry, a little bit, but he doesn’t think that would do much good.

After a moment’s agonizing hesitation he listens to his instinct, like his dad tells him he always should, and nearly topples the precarious stack of holobooks on the nightstand as he darts out of bed and across the hall towards his father’s room.

There’s a hall light still on, and Boba’s not scared of the dark but he’s a bit grateful anyway. He waves at the door sensor and the door slides open to reveal the room beyond it, its familiar tidy surfaces made somehow eerie and foreign where they’re drenched in shadow.

Boba wavers on the threshold. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if his dad isn’t there after all.

“Daddy?” he calls from the doorway, his voice too high and shaky. The hall light falls in a clean stripe across the floor, almost but not quite reaching the bed and his father. No answer. “Dad?”

“Hm?”

Boba wants to cry again hearing his dad’s sleep-raspy voice. He shuffles his feet, his new pyjama bottoms too long in the legs still and hems trailing over the floor — it’s been a long time since he last did this, he realizes belatedly. Maybe he’s too big now. Six is pretty big, right? Almost seven, in five months or so. Most of the other children he’s ever met grow so much faster than he does, he’s not quite sure where that leaves him. “Can — can I sleep here tonight?”

The sheets rustle and in the dimness he can barely make out the darker shape of his father pushing himself up on an elbow. There’s a pause, then his dad says: “Of course. Come here.”

With a breath of relief Boba scurries over the floor until he can dive under the covers where his dad holds one corner lifted for him. He presses himself against his father’s side, making a small sound when his dad lies back down and wraps one arm around him, hand smoothing soothingly up and down his shoulder.

Boba feels better already, the weird dizzy feeling from the dream becoming smaller, like it’s just an ember in his gut now instead of a bonfire. He’s seen a big bonfire before, last year, on a small plain farming planet they’d gone to; it’d smelled terrible because a lot of the things the people there were burning had been trash and also some bones, but it looked really cool.

The darkness is suddenly simply the darkness of their apartment again, homey and normal and safe. The calm, steady beat of his father’s heart under his ear calls out to his own in a familiar way — slow down, don’t just race ahead. Think.

Boba closes his eyes and burrows under the covers. The fabric of his father’s sleeping shirt is soft against his cheek.

“Bad dream?”

Boba nods. He doesn’t want to talk about it — doesn’t want to ask the stupid questions he’d had in the dream, like ‘how will I always know that it’s you’. It’s easy to tell the difference; he has never once mistaken his dad for any of the others, even the oldest ones who are almost men now. No one would ever look at how his dad carries himself and think he was one of them, or that they were even remotely the same thing. Boba understands this on a level he can’t quite explain in words, and he feels silly for even dreaming otherwise, so he’s not going to talk about it. But he still wants his dad to take away the bad feelings and make everything okay again, like normal. “...I don’t remember all of it.” It’s not a lie, not really, it all blurs together now in impassive faces and white hallways and cold dizzying panic. “But it was scary.”

“I see. Want to learn a trick?” Jango Fett says, with the conspiratorial lilt to his voice that always makes Boba feel happy and special and proud, like they’re a team. Normally that tone means he’s about to learn something cool with a blaster or how to slice a new security system, but even if it’s only a smaller trick because it’s the middle of the night it’ll probably be fun.

“Yeah!”

His dad takes Boba’s hand and guides it down to rest against his belly. “Feel the way your stomach rises and falls under your hand.”

Boba does, noting the quick, tense movements of his own muscles as he breathes.

“Now breathe out all the air in your lungs. Even more, every last bit.” A hint of amusement enters his dad’s voice as Boba dutifully wheezes out the last traces of air from his body. “That’s good. Breathe in. See how much it lifts your hand? Pay attention to that and how it goes down again.”

The inhale comes in almost by itself when his lungs are so empty, easy and smooth and deep. His dad talks him through doing it again a couple of times before he says: “Good. This time just relax and match your breathing to mine, through your nose. Ready?”

Boba nods, listening to his dad’s measured breathing and doing his best to follow along. At one point his father gives a sudden sharper inhale through his nose and Boba blinks in surprise before mimicking him, I’m paying attention! — there’s a small smile playing at the corner of his father’s mouth and Boba grins back; it’s easier when it’s a game, when it’s not so serious.

There’s a rhythm to it, almost like the lullabies in Mando’a his dad used to sing to him when he was little. Breathe in, and then pause. Breathe out for a bit longer, shorter pause. Breathe in again. Like a chorus that’s always the same even when all the other words change around it.

It only takes a little while of breathing together like that until the fear goes away completely and is replaced by warm sleepiness spreading from his toes and all the way up to his ears. He can’t help but yawn on the next inhale, leaning his temple against his dad’s shoulder.

“Better?” his father asks, carefully tousling Boba’s hair.

“Uh-huh,” Boba says, managing to nod lazily.

“If you’re ever scared and I’m not there, you can slowly count to eight every time you breathe out,” his dad says. “I can teach you another time. Fear happens to everyone. The difference is that strong people understand it needs to be controlled, and you have to know how.”

Boba wrinkles his nose, confused. “Not to everyone. You’re not scared of anything.”

His father is quiet for a long time. In the darkness Boba can’t make out his face anymore. “I’m afraid everyone’s scared of something, ad’ika,” his father says finally, his fingers still stroking Boba’s hair, gently smoothing it away from his forehead. “But we have no place for fear here tonight. Try to sleep again.”

“’Kay,” Boba agrees amicably. It’s an easy promise to make: his eyes are already slipping closed on their own, there probably won’t be too much need for trying. He curls up against his father’s side and closes his eyes, lulled by the warmth and fingers combing slowly through his hair and the new breathing that still feels like a familiar song in his lungs.

I rewatched Attack of the Clones recently and remembered how I used to have a lot of feelings I couldn’t quite understand when I was like eleven about Jango Fett being a Bad Guy but a good dad. Yes, little eleven year old me, you were right, sometimes people are complicated. Combine that with my recent tendency to break down crying whenever I think about Mandalorian dads… the catastrophe was inevitable. (Yeah, they’re Mandalorian. Come at me with your frankly incomprehensible artistic decisions, George Lucas, Boba Fett hanging around looking cool and being underutilized is the only reason anyone came up with ‘Mandalorian’ to begin with lol)

Also I really fuckn wish that breathing exercises actually worked for me, they seem real handy.

As a last note: Please understand that in the dialect of Norwegian the entirety of my mother’s side of the family speaks, ‘fett’ is an EXTREMELY vulgar word for vagina, roughly equivalent to uh the c-word in English I guess. (Outside of that dialect it also means ‘fat’, as in the substance, and is a slightly dated slang term for something cool/awesome. Ask me about ‘Fett, ass’ sometime) So like. I AM continually laughing at Boba Fett from both ends of his name, though fondly these days. Sorry bro.

#star wars #boba fett #jango fett #star wars fic #my writing.#Anyway if you think about it Boba Fett’s entire life is kind of a psychosocial horror story especially after he was orphaned!#isn't star wars fun #...I really need to go to sleep now haha

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ferallymine · 5 years

Text

A chill swept over your soul. The vastness of the black before you would alarm any sane person, but to you it was calming. The chill felt homey, reassuring. Certainly, no sane person could stand this.

But you were never considered a 'sane' person, especially in the world of the living.

How was it that you died? You couldn't remember and frankly, didn't care. Maybe this was the purgatory that all atheists experience when they go.

"Welcome, my child..."

The deep gravelly voice did not startle you. You turned, facing a ghastly red form. It spread open its arms, in an inviting hug.

"Welcome, my child....to the Void."

-----

The red ghost took your hand and began walking. Other souls of varying colors began to pop up; each conjuring activities and being surprisingly merry with each others’ company.

What Red had said about atheists’s souls made some sense to you. All your life you’d known *something* bigger than yourself was out there- it just never occurred to you that all of the religions were true.

“The Void is not as scary as the Living say,” Red had a hint of a smile, “While their living bodies may have endured harsh realities, the souls of the loyal remain here to do as they please.”

You silently observed all the happenings. Two souls were playing chess. Another group was engaged in a collaboration of art. Others were reading. Only one stood out to you.

One was staring at a small white orb.

“If you want to see those among the living,” Red pointed, “You may join him there. Be free, child. Welcome home.”

Still, you said nothing. Slowly drifting towards the white orb, the soul standing there made no motion towards you.

“Only loyal followers of Sithis end up here,” The soul’s voice was deep, gentle. He spoke with slight confusion, “You must have led a death-filled life to have ended up here without proper service to Him.”

You shook your head. The emptiness of your memories provided no answers to why the lottery tossed you here. Perhaps it *was* truly random, like Red said.

The soul took his eyes away and looked at you, “You...remind me of someone... Someone I knew long ago. You have the same eyes.”

You finally spoke, “I’m afraid I don’t know you. Apologies.”

“How you died must’ve affected your memory,” The soul pondered a moment, “A hard hit to the head? Overdosing on brain-altering poison?”

You shrugged, eyes drifting to the orb, “Who do you seek?”

The soul turned, pointing to a particular spot on the orb, “Someone I let down.”

You tilted your head to see a young woman hiding in a cave. She had long braided red hair. A fire lit up the cave, casting deceitful shadows along its walls.

“Do you seek anyone?” The soul tore his gaze away to look at you.

“I lived a lonely life- that much I recall,” Yet your eyes searched the white. A scene formed, colors spreading like watercolor over a blank canvas.

The couple painted there looked familiar. The woman was short, blonde hair and blue eyes. The man was tallish, brown hair that was greying and green eyes. Were they your parents? Were they friends? You didn’t know, but seeing them made you smile.

“They look happy,” The soul with you placed a hand on your shoulder, “Whoever they are, you meant a great deal to them, and they to you.”

A booming laughter sounded behind them. The both of you turned to see Red engaged in merriment with other souls.

“Sithis has been rather chipper lately,” He tilted his head, “Let’s join them.”

#sithis #the void #writing #writing prompt

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swiftpng · 5 years

Photo

❥ — taylor swift’s fall netflix list // gettin’ deep & personal task.

Taylor’s a sucker for binge-watching a television show and ignoring the fact that she should be replying to emails about work, so what’s a better way to procrastinate than answering a bunch of fall related questions while watching a baking show? (click on the picture for hq!)

what’s your favorite part of fall? Everything. I know, I know… I might’ve said summer was my favorite season, but honestly? I love this time of the year so much. The leaves here are beginning to change colors. Soon they’ll fall to the ground in an array of golden-tones, stripping the trees bare in the process. We’ll all soon follow, wiping ourselves clean of the year’s hard times in anticipation of the better that’s sure to come. Pumpkin flavors can now be requested in coffee shops all over, and in just a couple weeks time, children will line the streets in costumes. There’s something in the breeze that heals. I can’t explain it, but I can feel it. Goosebumps litter my skin and at times I have to question whether I’m cold or whether my body is coming alive for the first time in ten months. Fall has arrived and so has my spirit.

what about your least favorite? Hm, hard call. Maybe the colder weather? I don’t mind it, but I don’t really enjoy the feeling of my limbs feeling numb from the coldness.

what’s a song that always makes you think of Halloween? Thriller by Michael Jackson! If you don’t do the dance when you hear this song, we can’t be friends.

describe your quintessential fall outfit? Fall fashion is some of my favorite and, in my opinion, often the most creative! Usually, I’m always wearing fall colors with jeans, boots, and a sweater. Scarves, hats, and gloves can be found in my wardrobe during this time of year, too.

have you ever played with a ouija board? No, I wouldn’t do that. I’ve seen one too many horror films to know that it never ends well when you mess with those things.

do you feel that fall makes you happy or sad? Happy, most of the time! Although, it does make me feel slightly nostalgic, so that can always bring up unwanted feelings to the surface.

what’s your favorite Halloween-related movie? I always go for more light-hearted movies rather than all out scary movies, so I would have to say Hocus Pocus. But, I like Practical Magic, too.

now that the weather’s getting colder, what’s a go-to comfort meal for fall? Mac and cheese is my comfort food. It’s homey, warm, and so delicious.

do you believe in ghosts & spirits? A little bit. I’m the kind of person to hear a mysterious noise and think “ghosts!” because that’s just who I am. I believe there are things we can’t see that exist, but I don’t really believe in the traditional ideas of what “ghosts” are. Maybe I’ll Buzzfeed Unsolved it one of these days and see if they’re truly real for myself.

favorite fall-related scent? Freshly made pumpkin pie from the oven is such a good smell, but I also love the smell of nature after it rains.

are you a generally superstitious person? I’m not overall superstitious, but I believe that there are things we can’t see or fathom. I believe there’s things we can’t explain, yet or ever. I believe that the number thirteen is my lucky number, and whenever it pops up randomly, I always believe it’s good luck for me.

do you rake up the leaves in your yard, or leave them fall where they may? I just leave them on the ground until I know it’s supposed to snow, and then I rake them up for them to burn. Fallen leaves make for a good bonfire.

if you were home alone and heard footsteps in your house, what would you do? I would probably check my security camera footage, and if I felt really spooked out, I’d call a friend to come over and stay the night!

hot apple cider or pumpkin spice coffee? Oooh, don’t do this to me. I love both, but a mug of hot apple cider is amazing when you’re at the window and reading a book.

pick a team of three people to go with you to a haunted house if you wanted to survive? Let me see… I think I’d choose Bill Skarsgård because he’s taller than me and I trust that he could protect the rest of the team; James McAvoy because he’s hilarious and I’m sure he could calm my nerves and lighten the mood; and Delta Goodrem since she’s my soul sister and I would need her for moral support. Bill, James, and Delta – those three would be my team if I had to go into a haunted house to survive.

do you use the pumpkin seeds once you’ve scooped ‘em from the jack-o-lantern? I usually save them! I roast them in the oven and eat them as a snack.

favorite Halloween costume that you’ve ever worn? Getting the chance to wear Ryan��s Deadpool costume was pretty cool. Didn’t think it would fit at first, but I’m glad it did!

what’s your favorite fall time activity? Going out at night and walking against the brisk air, warm coffee in my hand, feeling free and abandoned with my loved ones; sitting outside in the afternoons with a cozy sweater and writing/drawing; watching the darkening of the days, giving way to even brighter sunsets and sunrises.

graveyards at night: yay or nay? Uh, no. I don’t even like going to them in the daytime, so going to one during the night would not be for me.

do you enjoy baking during the fall season? Of course! Imagine if I didn’t bake almost everyday during the fall season? If you can name it, I can bake it. Cookies, pies, cakes, bread – those will fill my kitchen at all times.

are you more into Halloween parties or trick-or-treating? Since I’m older, I would say Halloween parties. Though, now that I’m living in Bayview, I’m hoping to get a chance to pass out candy to kids. Seeing little ones dressed up in their costumes is so cute.

what role do you play in a horror movie: the final girl, first to die, comic relief, the brain, or the murderer? Honestly? Depends on my mood. Kidding. Well, maybe. I feel like most people would assume that I would be the first to die in a horror movie and they might be right, but I feel like I could be the brain to come up with a plan to save us all. I’d be the comic relief if I’m nervous or feeling stressed during it all, the final girl if my plan goes like it should, and the murderer if I saw someone I disliked.

have you ever changed your appearance with the season? like dyeing your hair or doing different makeup? A lot of people dye their hair darker as the seasons change, but I don’t think I can pull off brown hair, so I just stick to blonde. I usually change my makeup to more darker tones.

after a scary movie… lights on or off? On, always. And I have to watch something more light-hearted afterwards otherwise I can’t go to sleep.

what’s your favorite candy that you look forward to getting around Halloween? Definitely Reese’s Pieces or M&M’s. You’ll never see me with candy corn, though. Whoever likes those are wrong. Very, very wrong. They have no taste, they’re boring, and they’re just not a good Halloween candy. Or even candy in general. Honestly, just don’t even talk to me if you like candy corn. Please. Also, if you have any in your presence, you should do yourself a favor and throw them away.

you’re a witch or warlock… what’s your familiar animal? Would it be too predictable to say a cat? It would be cool if they could talk like Salem, too.

it’s an apple, and it’s coated with what: chocolate, candy or caramel? A chocolate M&M covered apple would be my pick. I never eat it from the stick, so I usually cut it with an apple slicer and then have my way with it.

do you believe in any urban legends like moth man or chupacabras? Can’t say I do, only because I’m not really familiar with either of those. I will say that I believe in Bigfoot and the Loch Ness Monster.

are you more into the fall aesthetic, or just in it for Halloween? Both? I love fall because of the crispness of the air against the gentle warmth of sunlight, the reemergence of cozy dark clothing and boots, a fresh brew of coffee as the sun rises and the chill starts to nip at your nose and cheeks, the faint scent of cinnamon, shorter days in exchange for softer evenings and brighter sunrises, greenery turning over to bold reds, oranges, and yellows, a tangible feeling that you can do anything… I could go on forever, I just really, really love autumn, my soul feels so at home when it’s this time of year. But, I do love Halloween and I refuse to believe it begins within the plane of manmade time, and is not an atmospheric state that graces us mere mortals every year without fail, bringing with it an odd chilly peace and natural pleasantries and a sort of magic, all of which is willed by the Gods of Spook. Yes, I know, I’m weird.

supernatural time: do you wanna be a vampire, werewolf, or zombie? I’ve been a zombie once, and let me tell you, sitting for six hours in a makeup chair is not fun. But in all seriousness, if I had to choose based off of what I’ve seen in TV shows and such, I think I’d go with being a werewolf. I mean, having to turn on a full moon and have every bone in my body break doesn’t sound like too much fun, but it does sound better than having to live off of blood and never actually dying (unless you get stabbed in the heart with a wooden stake). With how much the world is changing, I don’t think I would to live long enough to see how it all ends.

#bviewtask #( ❛ ░ ▌ it's my life so truth be told // tasks.#okay so i tried to be poetic with some of the answers bc she's like that sometimes but it might've turned out cheesy sfjisdf #also ik some of these aren't really on netflix but we can pretend

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hongkongdramas · 5 years

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Barrack O’ Karma

Yay to creepy and mysterious themed dramas! I have always liked such drama themes. So currently I’ve only watched till episode 4 and I have started to like it. The first two episode under the story ‘梦’ wasn’t impressive to me. It was exciting at some point in time but excitement level went into a flat line again... I would assume that it was an opening to show how Siu (Joel Chan) has this connection to his past life through his dreams. But it was a little too draggy by the some what random robbery case and a murder case in the prostitute house. And I was bored out of some unnecessary conversation going on which was a tad bit too long...

Episode 2 to 4 was way more interesting compared to the first two. I liked how Candice Chiu portrayed the mother that lost her child. That story for ‘婴’ kept me really curious as to what Mrs Ho wanted and the paranoia that the baby’s mother went through was so pitiful. Even though there were a lot of conversational scenes on some baby care methods, i think it was necessary for them to show the transition of how the baby’s mother trusted Mrs Ho to starting to suspect her weird behaviors. Now i’m looking forward to the other stories and now how they ended episode 4 with a flight turbulence!

The next story “娃” was interesting too. What started off as an uncomfortable involvement with dolls for men’s pleasure ended up to be a sad story about how a father felt so lonely after his daughter grew up. But this episode is filled with so much jokes that are so not for children.. 🙂 Anyway kudos for having an interracial couple and the first I’ve seen in a hk drama. Speaks so much about being accepting and diverse.

Following that was “鴉烏” (is it on purpose that they put the name the other way round? Or should I be reading it from right to left instead...) which has a pretty sad ending. Deep meanings in this story... the pressure from society and high expectations from parents on kids nowadays are really prevalent. The moment Tung-Tung said he didn’t want to grow up to face the hardship as an adult related to me so much. It was sad to see everyone losing their memory about Tung-Tung and finally even Tung-Tung himself losing his memory about his parents.

“異夢” was refreshing because it finally brought us back to the past to understand more about their past life (if there is some reincarnation thingy going on). It was so cool to see the opposite of what was happening like how it was Sis Coco dreaming of future Siu while in present life was Siu dreaming of Coco. And also Law Lan Jeh’s cameo!!! The lesbian case was ordinary but I guess it was necessary to link up the stolen $ and the release of Brother Hung.

Finally I got my question answered in these episodes. During Tung-Tung’s case, I was wondering so much on why Tung-Tung’s parent didn’t bat an eyelid when Alex came in to find out why they were arguing so loud. It felt like Alex wasn’t there at all... and I finally found my answer at the end of “洞”. Is Alex dead??? Mmmmm. Have to watch on I guess. Anyway, IMO, there wasn’t much of a supernatural thing going on in “洞”... (other than the fact that the hole in the wall was the creepy element to it) I guess there was an inspirational message going on throughout the story of pursuing one’s dream like how Mia finally found her calling and decided to put in effort in achieving what she wanted. Of course it wouldn’t have been possible without the help of that guy {forgot that guy’s name.. shall call him chicken little like how Siu called him}. Chicken Little was the one who made Mia realize her goal in life despite been an annoying keyboard warrior his whole life...

Next was “金丁” which was the weirdest shit story ever... I was totally baffled at the entire story with that weird ass theory of getting happiness after sleeping with that guy... I think this was the worst story ever that I have nothing to say about it..

Yuki Jeh is actually very pretty!! Her “美魔女” story was interesting because it linked back to her mum in the past. So we get to toggle back and forth between past and present to see the reason for her obsession with beauty. Too bad Yuki Jeh went bonkers till the end.. I wasn’t expecting her to use the cotton wool to wipe it on her face when Shui left 😅

DR POONNNN! Like everyone else, I was anticipating and waiting and waiting for Dr Poon to appear and there she is!!! But she appeared for such a short duration :( Anyway, the story of “Simone” was so cute!!!! I really like the part when they enter the gaming story. The augmented reality they were in was so interesting! And the story really shows how scary technology can be in our digital world. The manifestation of technology, especially in the world of augmented and virtual reality, can be dangerous where our personal data are constantly being collected for other purposes... the love story was just an added feature.. Hahahah KELLY CHEUNG was gorgeous!! And that Big White Duel reference there was cool! Plus also, they were finally revealing the ultimate story behind Siu, Alex, Fai and Coco. Teacher Lam is super mysterious and I’m really wondering what is that “thing” that he refers to suspiciously.

Last story!! 夢遊. Okay actually I’m only till the last second episode. Wow mind blown. They actually came up with some sci-fi thingy where you’d have to almost drown to time travel...? Okay that was out of the blue.. and omg don’t tell me Lam Gor Zai is some cat demon that kills people.

Finished Barrack O’ Karma and I was a little confused at the ending and also annoyed at the fact that they spent a whole 3-5 mins nearing the end to show flashbacks other then providing us with a little more details for the story.

Instead of looking at Lam Gor Zai being a real cat demon or some sort, I would rather view Lam Gor Zai suffering from mental illness as a result. His horrible past (the sacrificial burial) might caused him to suffer from PTSD and resulted in him having DID (dissociative identity disorder) hence the “cat demon”. The cat demon was the other personality he had that harms people. Just like M. Night Shyamalan’s Split movie starring James McAvoy having 24 split personalities, the “Beast” was just one of the personality that goes around harming people.

The final ending was the confusing part. Initially, the part where Coco and Siu (who time traveled) were almost dying on the boat, I thought that if Coco were to die and Siu to survive, Siu would not drown in the present time and Alex would have been declared dead from the missing flight. And if Coco were to survive and Siu to die, Alex would have survived in the present time and found from the missing flight while Siu would have drowned in the water tank. Boy was I wrong... instead, I would think that for Siu to time travel and have altered the past, it has created a whole new dimension in the present where characters we have seen had a whole new story in their lives but yet a striking similarity to what we have seen in the past episodes. (e.g Mia who is now a star with that chicken little who may have a special connection to her, Yuki Jeh who is now blind and unable to “appreciate” the beauty she has, Tung-tung who is now with his family and his dad a common bus driver etc.) As for Alex, she is now (coincidentally still) a flight attendant while Siu now a pilot. The eye contact and tears in their eyes may have brought forth the familiarity both had for each other just like how Alex said that she felt this homey feeling when entering Twilight Mansion and that it felt as if she had been here the whole time.

Oh there was this weird scene where we see Lam Gor Zai and the older version of him (played by Lau Kong) carrying on to Lan Po. Seriously confused by this... I need some explanations here... That was so out of the blue...

Overall, I really enjoyed myself watching this drama with every subplot and ultimately the main story on reincarnation and time travel. Kudos! Looking forward to the sequel which has been green-lit!

#金宵大廈 #李施嬅 #陈山聪 #barrack o'karma #selena lee #joel chan #hkdrama #hk drama

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