#maybe i just post things that would drive away those kinda people too often | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aggravatetheaxe · 3 years

Note

Hey! Saw your post and saw you said you were upsettie spaghetti so I wanted to cheer you up!

Slashers who stop everything they’re doing because their “My S/O needs me” senses are tingling and go to their rescue to comfort their angry s/o?

I was hoping to come up with A way for you to get your emotions out through your writing- 😅

Hope you feel better! 🖤

I've never done a post in this style before so hopefully I do okay! I think I covered pretty much all the slashers I write for so far (I didn't do Billy Lenz because I still need to read the novelization). I may have gone way overboard, so if I do these in the future, I'll probably just pick a few instead of doing the whole roster 😅 (or you can pick for me). But doing this much work did distract me!

Above the cut:

Bo Sinclair

Vincent Sinclair

Lester Sinclair

Included below the cut:

Michael Myers (OG)

Jason Voorhees

Leslie Vernon

Thomas Hewitt

Bubba Sawyer

Brahms Heelshire

Erik ("The Phantom")

Deacon Billings (OC Ghostface)

Courtney Dwayne Delmont (OC slasher)

Kathleen Montgomery (OC slasher)

Masterlist

***

Bo Sinclair

Despite being autistic, Bo is very in tune with peoples auras and body language. He has to be to manipulate and deceive people with any modicum of success. He's trained himself when it comes to these things; even besides masking or manipulation, he needed to be keenly aware of when his parents were in Bad Moods so he could either avoid them or prepare himself.

The mood he's probably best at when it comes to this, for those reasons, is anger. He can smell anger a mile away. So if you're fuming, you better believe he notices.

At first he's annoyed and will demand to know what your problem is. He's not a very tolerant person, and he can be a bit of a hypocrite. He's allowed to have big, messy feelings, but when it comes to others having big, messy feelings ... he's not so comfortable with that. He gets overwhelmed.

Once he realizes that this is more than an attitude problem, he'll take it much more seriously. And assuming you're not mad at him, he'll want the rundown on the whole situation from beginning to end. He wants all the dirt.

He'll let you rant, and honestly, he'd think you being this angry (when it's not directed at him, but even still sometimes) is kind of sexy. And don't expect him to shut his mouth, either; he'll be ranting right along with you, affirming you and insulting whomever/whatever you're angry about.

He doesn't wanna cuddle. He genuinely thinks you can't cuddle anger away. He'll put on some loud-ass music and let you vent your frustration however you prefer. Maybe suggest a long drive down to the lake or into town or just ... picking a direction and going. He has fantasies of running away from his anger sometimes. He knows how it is.

Depending on what you're angry about, it could definitely get to the point where he's angrier about the situation than you are. And if it really hurt you, he will not let it go as long as he lives. The best he will ever do is maintain a grudging neutrality or distance from the person/situation that made you angry.

He's very protective. If you're angry at someone you need to maintain a relationship with, you're going to have to keep an eye on Bo to make sure he doesn't deliver revenge for you behind your back. If it's something he can solve, he'll do it, so if you don't want him running his mouth, watch him.

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent is in the same boat as Bo when it comes to sensing auras, though his handle on body language and facial expressions is not as keenly honed. While Vincent was not physically abused as brutally or as often as Bo, this wasn't because of some sterling quality he had that Bo lacked. He was always The Good One because he saw what his parents did to The Bad One and knew he needed to protect himself. He tried not to do anything that might provoke his parents.

You can feel anger before a fight like you smell ozone before a storm. Vincent is attuned to the feeling not just because of his parents but because of Bo's temper, too. Because of this, like Bo, he can very accurately sense anger in particular.

His initial reaction is to observe you, gauging if you need time to cool off. If you need space, Vincent is the Sinclair for you. He's used to being quiet and deflecting and riding out anger.

However, once he realizes that your anger is not directed at him or isn't explosive enough to become a problem for him, he's concerned. Rather than asking what happened, he will ask if you're okay, and leave it up to you whether you'll tell him about it or not.

If you vent, he'll sit and listen patiently, maybe even thoughtfully working on a sculpture while you rant. He's not judgemental and he can be very emotional himself, so you could say the most ridiculous, dramatic things and he wouldn't even bat an eye. Let out all your messy, destructive thoughts and feelings. Just try not to throw or punch anything; that's when he shuts down.

If you decide you just want comfort, or decide you need comfort after ranting, art is his first suggestion. It may seem cold to you at first, that his instinct isn't to hold you or kiss you but rather to redirect you to a project - once you got to know him, however, you'd know that's his most genuine way to show he cares. Redirecting to something creative calms him down more than platitudes ever could, and he wants that for you. He's nonjudgmental about the art you create as well, even if it's objectively terrible. It's not about the quality.

He won't turn you down if you need physical affection, however. His twin is extremely tactile, so it wouldn't be the first time he held someone after a breakdown. He prefers to do this if he's certain you won't lash out physically, but if you were in a really bad way and needed to be touched, he'd do it regardless.

Lester Sinclair

Lester witnessed his parents' anger, but it was usually indirectly; if Bo was the Bad One and Vincent was the Good One, he was the Overlooked One. He's not a perfect person, probably not even a good person, but of the three brothers, he's the most normally socialized. He isn't trained to be tuned into everyone's every shifting mood in order to survive.

It takes Lester a little longer to pick up on your anger than his brothers, but not too much longer. It takes him a couple tries at trying to talk to you or get your attention before he realizes something is really wrong.

His first reaction is to get upset. He soaks up emotions like a little sponge, so he's suddenly cranky, too. He also jumps to conclusions and assumes that you're angry with him, and he does not take rejection well. He might be bitter and passive aggressive. You being angry just makes him want to go in another room and not be around you, and yet at the same time, he wants your reassurances. It's messy and sad.

Once he realizes - either through observing you or through you communicating with him - that you're mad at another person or situation, then he'll feel comfortable enough to approach you and ask you about it. You'll definitely need to reassure him that you're not mad at him though.

If you wanna rant, he'll take you on a long drive and let you vent your heart out to him. He won't be quite as aggressive as Bo, but he'll be on your side, frowning with disapproval, telling you "Ya can't fix stupid." If you want only comfort or need comfort after venting, he feels much more equipped for that. He'll put something relaxing in the VHS or let you play his old Super Nintendo, get you a beer, just let you chill out. And he'll let you win at Doctor Mario.

If the situation is something really serious, you best believe he'll be talking to his brothers about it the second he gets a chance. He may be a sweet guy, but he can be real nasty, and he doesn't fuck around when it comes to you. You might have to keep an eye out to make sure he doesn't tell someone off or punch out someone's lights.

Michael Myers (OG)

In 1978, Michael is not very in tune with any emotions besides fear, and even then he only really understands it in an abstract way, as his condition and upbringing haven't really been conducive to him learning about emotions. Unless you're screaming in terror, have tears running down your face, or are shouting angrily, he really can't read your moods. Without any obvious change to how you normally act or look, there's a huge chance he might just not notice if you're angry. He spends a lot of time in his own little world.

In 2018, even though he's spent over 50 years institutionalized, Michael has had time to take in the world, and he's seen a lot more. He understands fear much more than he did when he was 21, but what he understands most of all is anger. His anger fuels him. He would pick up on yours right away and be curious, though he wouldn't verbalize it.

If you tell him how you feel, he'll take note of it. If he witnesses you doing something destructive because of your anger, he'll simply observe. He would be fascinated with this thing you're doing, because it's not something you normally do, and though he might not notice emotions, he certainly notices routine and pattern. Either way, you'll have to tell him how you feel, because he'll simply watch you otherwise.

One thing that can be said for Michael is that he's a good listener. He may not internalize everything you say, but he will remember what he thinks is important. You may be surprised; he may remember tiny little details that seem inconsequential to you but loom large in his mind.

Unless you were caused serious physical or mental harm, he would not be angry on your behalf. He would, however, do nothing to assuage your anger. He thinks it would be kinda neat and interesting to see you snap. He's not 100% sure why you don't just do it.

In 1978, he won't be much help beyond listening to you, but he would be curious to see what you do to vent your anger. You may find him by your side more often, observing you. He may also want to find and observe the object of your anger, especially if it's a person. In 2018, he would, in his own way, suggest you solve the problem by murdering someone/something. He's insatiable, but killing is the closest he's ever come to satisfaction. You should try it.

Jason Voorhees

Out of all of the slashers, Jason is the most likely to actually literally sense your anger, especially if you're psychically sensitive/powerful like Tina Shepard. I'm talkin'—assuming you have a pre-established relationship—he'll be doing something else and just get this itch that tells him you're out there somewhere, pissed off.

Obviously this is untenable. As long as he's not super busy or Pamela has other plans, Jason will stomp his way through the woods to get back to you, regardless of the urgency of your anger. If Pamela doesn't approve, well, he'll let a little anger go and assume you're okay. If he suspects you may be in danger, though, he's sprinting regardless of what Mom says. There's time for both things, Ma!

The first thing he'll do when he returns to you is scan your dwelling, then you, making sure nothing is broken. At that point, you'd probably be able to sense his confusion even without him signing. Jason doesn't experience emotions quite like a human anymore, and he's quite tactile besides, so a lack of tangible or visible clues as to why you're upset would trip him up for a second.

He doesn't want to comfort you at first, he wants to know what's wrong. He'll listen to you vent only long enough to understand the situation and identify his target. His immediate next move would be to eliminate the problem. You'll definitely have to hold him back, and it may take a bit of convincing. Earthly consequences don't really apply to him.

Before comfort comes blowing off steam, for you and for him. His first choices would be mangling some trees (you can pretend it's for firewood) or skipping/throwing stones into the lake. You're welcome to join him if those things calm you down; watching him get his stone to skip like 11 times on Crystal Lake may make you feel better, at least.

You might hang out there for hours before he suddenly decides it's time to go home. He'll do what he can to make your comfortable or stay out of your way while you make yourself comfortable, then comfort you as you please. His go-to choice is always foot or hand massages.

Leslie Vernon

Leslie is extremely observant and surprisingly analytical given how silly he is in the day to day. His intuition makes it pretty easy for him to read people, but especially you, since you two are so close. Especially-especially if you're his Survivor Girl (gender neutral term of course). You two are in sync, so he knows if something's up. Maybe even before you fully figure it out.

God, you're so hot when you're angry, you really are. He almost wants to let you scream and holler and go nuts. But he prefers you only get angry like that at him, especially if you're his Survivor Girl, so his first move is to comfort you or talk you down to a place where you can be comforted. He'll speak to you calmly and rationally, reassuring you and touching you if you wanna be touched—on your upper arms or shoulders or face, or with one arm around your back.

He doesn't just want to comfort you, though, he wants to calm you down enough that you can tell him what happened. Even if you claim you don't want to talk about it, he will coax it out of you eventually. He's gotta know what got you so upset. It's his business to know everything about you!

Assuming you're angry at someone/something that isn't him, he'll talk it through with you. If you're upset about an argument with someone, he has the capacity to see it from the other side, but ultimately, he's there for you. He'll let you bitch as much as you want, still touching you, and he'll be disgusted and/or disappointed with the situation.

Above all, though, what he wants is to see you smile again. The only worries on your mind should be the ones he comes up with, and man, he's not even halfway done grooming the next batch of unlucky teenagers. He'd pat your face or touch your hair and tell you to cheer up, and probably defuse the situation with a stupid quip or joke. Take you out somewhere fun, maybe.

Once you were cheered up, he'd humbly suggest you solve your problem with a little murder. "I mean, I know killing's not really your thing—you're really good at it, though, a talent! You know that..." Pause, considering you. "You want me to do it? 'Cause I can clear my schedule for the rest of the night." If you decline, he'd be like "Suit yourself" but may or may not still murder whoever upset you. If you agree, he'd be super excited to make a romantic night of it. His mind would be going a million miles an hour planning everything out.

Thomas Hewitt

Tommy knows anger when he sees it. Not only does he have loads of internalized anger, he's been on the receiving end of it plenty. He's far too large to be scared of anyone in a physical sense anymore, but he's been shouted at countless times. To know when to shut up and do as he's told versus arguing back, he's learned to gauge intensity and direction of anger, and he well knows that anger can be redirected to him.

So, he instantly recognizes your mood, but it might be a while before he approaches you. When he does approach, he'll let you decide what to do, whether that's throwing your arms around him or banging your fists on his chest to vent your anger. You won't hurt him.

Eventually, once you're all hugged or cried or screamed out, he'll wrap his arms around you and give you a reassuring squeeze. There's no need to tell Tommy what's wrong—he won't ask unless you're obviously in serious distress or injured—but if you decide to speak, he'll listen, brows drawn tightly the whole time. He's thoughtful about the situation.

If you're mad at someone in his family, there isn't much he can do for you besides comfort you and assure you that whoever upset you—Hoyt, probably—didn't mean what they said. If you were hurt physically, it would be another story, but his family gets in shouting matches all the time.

Rather than offering help, he'd wait for you to request it of him. Whatever you ask, shy of hurting his family, he will do. Murder someone? No problem. Make you some food? You got it. Bring you a blanket? Sure. Give you some quiet alone time? That's fine, too.

If you need to vent, he's got plenty of ways to get out your frustration. Plenty of farm work to do, or you could work on something around the house with him. He might suggest knitting or sewing or some other handicraft you enjoy. It always makes him feel better to buckle down and use his hands for something.

If you're still preoccupied/upset by the time you two bed down, or heaven forbid the next morning, then he starts taking it more seriously. Something that disturbs you for that long is bad news. He'll watch you carefully the next couple days to see how you're doing, waiting for you to need him for something.

Bubba Sawyer

Like Tommy, Bubba has been on the receiving end of anger many, many times, so he's familiar with what it looks and feels like. Despite his size, he's still susceptible to physical violence at the hands of his loved ones, so he's very wary of anger.

However, he doesn't have a female presence in his life like Luda Mae, who expresses her anger through passive aggression—so, he's more used to shouting and screaming. If you aren't prone to screaming and shouting, it might take a little bit for him to realize you're not just sad or upset, you're angry.

Bubba will be over you. He'd give anyone else their space because he'd be afraid of retaliation, but you're his special person, and he's pretty sure you're not going to hurt him. He'll touch your hair, your arms, your wrists; he'll babble as he tries to figure out what's wrong. He just wants to comfort you and let you know everything is all right.

If it's too much or you're overwhelmed and you snap at him, he'll ease back. He'll blubber like a kicked puppy, but he won't give up. He'll still try to comfort you, just in other ways, such as getting you a comfort item or article of clothing, or maybe some food. And boy will he helicopter.

There's no need to tell Bubba what's wrong. In fact, it might be better if you didn't; if it's something he can't fix, it would do nothing but majorly stress him out. If it was one of his family members who upset you, as with Tommy, he wouldn't be able to do much. Even if you were hurt, he's just not in a position to stand up for you. That fact would absolutely kill him, though. He'd end up getting even more upset than you.

He doesn't know what help to offer you beyond comfort, but like Tommy, if you requested something specific, he'd try to carry out your wishes. He'll also try to cheer you up with some music and dancing, or just being silly like you like.

Need to blow off steam? He's got plenty of coping mechanisms! Bubba's idea of a perfect de-stress session is turning up the radio and getting lost in crafts. He's got lots of supplies, mostly to create clothing and accessories, and you're special, so you can have your pick. A drive and the radio might be nice, too. If neither of those appeal to you, he'll try cooking or baking with you. He loves sharing the kitchen with someone.

If none of that works and you're still upset, be prepared, because he's gonna be an anxious mess until you're better.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms is somewhat familiar with other people's anger. He certainly has a whole fountain of internalized anger brewing just beneath the surface, but that's different. He knows that when Mummy is angry, she yells and cries, and when Daddy is angry, he seethes and stews. The former would be obvious to him, but the latter would take him a few minutes to be quite sure about. You're not acting how you usually do. Are you being stern or are you angry? Are you cross with him?

He does not have a lot of empathy for other people, so if your anger gets in the way of his routine or the attention he wants, he'll be irked, cranky, sad. Not necessarily at you—though that is possible—but the situation in which you find yourselves.

Much like Bo, he's allowed to have big, messy feelings, but it makes him uncomfortable and scared when other people have those feelings. He might even hide from you for a while, especially if you screamed and cried.

Once he realizes something is really wrong and you're not mad at him, however, he'll start thinking of ways to cheer you up so things can go back to normal. He hates having his routine interrupted; he's very particular. And he cares for you, so seeing you in distress is very scary and uncomfortable for him.

He'll start by fetching you something you like—something manageable for him like your favorite juice or a sandwich, or if you have a special item or article of clothing, that. He's quite shy, though, and like I said, he'll probably be hiding, so he'll leave it somewhere he knows you'll find it (on the bed, outside your door, on your desk, etc.)

If that doesn't calm you down and your anger is really getting in the way of his routine, or otherwise making him uncomfortable, he'll finally make an appearance. Very bashful and timid at first, using his little boy voice. "What's wrong, Y/N? Did something bad happen?"

If it's something that can't be helped, he'll suggest you do something together to take your mind off it (most likely something he likes to do). He may even be coaxed into taking a walk around the grounds, though he doesn't like to leave the manor at all, so you'd have to convince him. He prefers quiet playtime, maybe some coloring books or loud music to vent your emotions. It would intrigue him to see someone else use his toys to calm down. As long as you recognized he was being very nice, sharing them.

If it was an argument you had with someone, he would want more information. Are they likely to leave you alone, or will they come to the manor? Will he have to deal with them? Because it's scary, but he'll do it for you.

If, for some reason, none of those things work, he may cry or throw a fit. Either way, he'll be frustrated. Adult Brahms may make an appearance and try to help you in more Adult ways.

Erik

Though he lives five cellars beneath an opera house now, Erik hasn't always been entirely reclusive. Even these days, when he can stomach it, he sometimes goes out to see the world. As a younger man, he observed people's lives and moods with a hungry fascination (that has now mostly been replaced by melancholy and longing and bitter anger). Like several of the other slashers here, he's had to train himself to sense fury to protect himself. He's also incredibly wrathful, so you could call him an expert!

He has a very keenly honed sense when it comes to you specifically, since he's watched you so much. He notices the change in your demeanor immediately.

If you know him as the "Angel of Music," his voice will appear to you once you're alone, asking you what's wrong and assuring you you can confide in him—he will insist you tell him, though. "There are to be no secrets between us, Y/N." He will listen without interjection as you vent your heart out, and when you're done, soothe you. Don't let his calming voice deceive you, though; behind that mirror, he's seething, planning to take matters into his own hands.

If you know him as Erik, he will go to you the second he recognizes the shift in your mood and take you from what you're doing, regardless of your wishes. He'll sit you down, kneeling before you with your hands in his, and gaze into your eyes, imploring you to tell him what's wrong. He'll absolutely allow you physical comfort, but he will also absolutely insist you tell. He'll need reassurance that you're not angry at him, because that thought would break his heart.

He will let you vent however you wish. You could have the most dramatic breakdown ever—throwing things, beating your fists on his chest, wailing—and he wouldn't judge you. He would be awfully concerned, though.

Will be 110% on your side. You are his poor little meow meow. "My poor love, my poor Y/N!" He is beside himself with sympathy for you and you only, and is very offended on your behalf.

He will always suggest music as an outlet for your anger, but he will have taken note of your other hobbies and interests as well. He'll fetch your things for you without being asked, as long as it won't separate him from you for very long. If you'd rather just have comfort, that's fine, too. He could hold your hand and caress your face for hours on end under normal circumstances, so no problem there. He may also suggest a little time on the surface, if you normally live in his home. Fresh air will do you both good, he reasons, and he enjoys spending time with you where others can witness it. It fills him with pride and love.

Otherwise, he's at your service for any other soothing activities you need. A calming bath, some sweets, shopping, anything. Perhaps avoid asking for any sexual contact, however. First of all, being asked directly makes him very skittish and nervous; second of all, his method of love-making (when you can coax him) is very intimate and tender, which may be tedious if you're in an angry mood.

Unless the situation is extremely serious or dire, his first priority is making sure you're soothed. Once that duty is fulfilled, however, he is absolutely angrier about it than you are. If it's not that serious, he won't skip straight to killing, if only because he knows it upsets you. He will definitely be writing an extremely strongly worded letter, however. If someone slighted you seriously, they're getting threatened. If someone hurt you physically, they're meeting the Punjab lasso.

Deacon Billings (OC Ghostface)

Deacon definitely knows when people are angry. His step-mom was a passive-aggressive laundry-folder and his dad was a storming out of the house kinda guy; when the two of them were together, they were all hushed but heated arguments at night when they thought he couldn't hear them, or else extremely embarrassing passive-aggressive arguments in public. Growing up, he found himself around a lot of angry people. And there's no shortage of anger in him, either.

So yeah, Deacon knows when people are pissed, and he knows when people are pissed at him. The thing is, he just thinks it's fucking hilarious. He was that kid that would goad peers and teachers just to be an asshole and had virtually no friends as a result. He's a menace on the internet, too: a horrible troll for no reason, stirring the pot even when he doesn't have a stake in the argument. He's trained himself to find people's weak spots so he can strike at them. He does it to make himself feel more in control of his life and his own anger.

So when you're ticked off, he's gonna notice the change immediately. If you made a vent post on social media, he probably knows you're angry before you even see him. He follows all your social media (even if you don't realize it) and checks it constantly. He'd call you out of curiosity to ask what happened. He's open about his stalking tendencies: "I saw your post, babe, who do I need to stab?"

If you otherwise come home angry, he'll be up on his feet, following you around the house and pestering you, trying to get you to tell him what's wrong. If you try to hug him, he won't push you away, but he'll be distracted, trying to needle answers out of you the whole time.

There's no question in his mind as to whether or not you're angry at him. He just assumes you're not; he has a pretty good handle on how you act when you're angry at him specifically.

He'll let you rant all day if you want. You could talk about the shit that's pissed you off for hours and he'd still listen. Outwardly, he might poke you a bit and play devil's advocate for the other side of the argument, if there is one. This is purely for the purposes of being a little shit.

Internally, he's already going down his pre-murder checklist. If it was someone at work, they're dead. Someone in the neighborhood, dead. Online? It'll take a couple days, but they're dead. Even if you're not angry at anyone in particular, just a situation, he'll find someone to menace. He'd walk through fire for your approval.

He's not good with soft, emotional comfort, so instead he'll try to think of something to help you let off steam. His go-to is something competitive, especially if it involves you chasing each other. A Nerf or water gun war, a PVP game with you on opposite sides. He'll put up a good fight, but you always kick his ass.

Once the immediate situation is addressed and you've ranted your heart out to him, he can't keep his hands off you. "Seeing you all pissed off drives me crazyyyyyy." He's grinning, brown eyes sparkling. "Come onnnnn ... I'll get it off your mind!"

Courtney Dwayne Delmont (OC)

Courtney is a hunter of all manner of game, so he's used to interpreting non-verbal cues and body language—when an animal is in distress, when an animal is about to attack, etc. His grandfather was a very angry man, as well, in a simmering sort of way. He would seethe about something before suddenly delivering one decisive strike. Courtney himself is not a particularly angry man, unless some prey is really giving him a hard time, but he can read your body.

If you come home angry, he'll stop in the middle of what he's doing and watch you, still and quiet, just confirming his suspicions. If you leave the room he's in to go collapse on the sofa or something, he'll follow you, looming over you and waiting for you to tell him what's wrong. He's patient.

If you want to vent, he'll sit and listen thoughtfully, doing something with his hands while you speak—probably cleaning his gun or some other weapon. He doesn't look at you. He wouldn't demand greater context to the situation but he would ask "Why?" and "Who?" until he understood Enough.

If you want comfort, he'll sprawl on the couch and let you lay on top of him. He'll probably pull a blanket on top of you to try and encourage a nap. If the nap doesn't make you feel better, he's feeding you protein. Do you like homemade jerky?

Sex is also on the table (not literally ... unless). He's found it's a great way to blow off steam, and he's more than happy to make all worries, troubles, and other thoughts go away for a little bit. Expect that to be the rest of your night, though, because he doesn't do quickies.

Generally, he trusts you to handle your own shit, so he would be more focused on you than whatever made you feel the way you do. However, if days passed and you were still angry/upset/sad, or if it plunged you into a breakdown or was an otherwise extremely serious situation ... just give him a target. It's up to you, but if you tell him to take the shot, it'll be quick and clean. If you're unable to make the decision, he'll decide for you without hesitation.

Kathleen Montgomery (OC)

I'm still developing her so this one won't be as in-depth and is subject to change.

Kath makes it her business to know everything about you. Chances are she's seen you explode screaming while stalking you ... chances are, if you've been in a relationship for a while, she's made you explode screaming. She knows what you look like when you're angry. Besides, she's strong for her size, but she often has to take down people who are much bigger and stronger than her; she uses manipulation and trickery to help ease that divide, so she's good at reading people.

Like Deacon, she also monitors all your social media, so if you made a vent post, she already knows you're in a shitty mood before you come home. Unlike Deacon, she doesn't tell you how she knows, so you're left to assume she's just all knowing. Considering her god complex, that works for her.

She'd probably text you to come home, and she expects you to answer. If you're unable to come home, she'll call you to ask what's wrong.

Once you're together, she wants to know everything about the situation. Even as you're speaking, she's already on her phone or laptop, looking up the people involved. Instead of getting mad on your behalf, she laughs. She's a fan of emphasizing how pathetic or weak the opposition is.

She takes your feelings on the subject seriously, but everyone else in the situation? Insects. Not even worthy of your time or concern, let alone hers. You're obviously in the right here (even if you're not). She'll tell you as much, and say some pretty intense, over-the-line things about whomever/whatever you're angry at.

Overall, however, she's calm and collected about the situation. Your bout of anger is a chance to get you to be reckless with her. She'll do your hair and makeup and dress you up nice, then take you out. Fast driving, drinking, baiting people at bars, menacing neighborhoods ... maybe a little killing, if you'd like.

***

Masterlist

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curlynerd · 3 years

Text

Just Say It

Happy gift posting day for the @starrynightdeancas gift exchange! I had two assignees, so I'm posting two fics today! My 2nd gift recipient is @deanwinchesteradjacent! She requested canon-adjacent Destiel with fluff, action, and a happy ending. I hope you like it! <3

Word Count: 7.5K Rating: T Summary: A string of violent deaths at an otherwise charming B&B was all the excuse Dean needed to drag Cas down to Florida for some fun in the sun. Things had been awkward since Cas came back from the Empty and they could finally be together, but Dean was sure that a romantic getaway was the perfect thing to help Cas get out of the training wheels stage of Angel's-First-Romance and start acting like a real couple. Just as soon as they took care of a vengeful spirit. What could possibly go wrong? Notes: Post canon, fix-it fic, oneshot, love confessions, Dean is bad at feelings, case fic, beach fic.

Also read it on AO3!

“Alright, I’m heading out.”

“Did you pack deodorant?”

“Dean…”

“Toothpaste? Mouthwash?”

“...”

“Those fancy hair products? Cuz there’s just. So. Many--”

“Dean! I’ve lived my whole life on the road. I know how to pack a damn dufflebag!”

Dean smirked, unperturbed by Sam’s whining. “Yeah but Eileen is a classy lady. She’s not gonna put up with your usual road stank.”

Sam sighed in annoyance as he readjusted the bag on his shoulder. “I’m not the one who wears his underwear three days in a row, jerk.”

“Better leave that attitude at home, bitch,” Dean said cheerfully. “It’s your anniversary, after all.”

Sam’s mouth twitched into a shy grin despite his best efforts. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be on my best behavior,” he said, letting Dean have one last bit of fun before he left. “You and Cas too. Don’t get into trouble.” He nodded in farewell before he climbed the stairs to the bunker door.

“Oh, and Sammy?”

Sam paused at the top of the stairs and turned around. Almost like he could sense what was coming, his eyebrow twitched in irritation. Dean hucked a box up to the landing, and Sam fumbled to catch it. Dean flashed a shit-eating grin as Sam read the Trojan label and fixed him with a scowl. “Make sure you wrap it before you tap it, Sammy.”

Sam rolled his eyes as he walked out the door.

Dean laughed to himself as he turned back to his laptop, scrolling through news articles looking for a hunt. He was still at it an hour later when Cas came shuffling into the room still in his pajamas, two cups of coffee in hand.

“Mornin’ Sunshine,” Dean crooned cheerfully. Cas’ hair was in wild disarray, and between that and his worn, brown sweatshirt and loose pajama bottoms, he looked more like a bear stumbling out of hibernation than a guy just waking up. “Sam already left.”

Cas set a mug down in front of Dean before slumping down into the chair beside him. “I hope he and Eileen have fun this week,” he mumbled as he hunched over his coffee.

Dean smiled at how adorable Cas looked, all grumpy and sleep-ruffled. He was still an angel...somewhat. He had Grace, if only a little. So close to mortality, Cas often needed mundane human things like sleep and food. He wasn’t particularly thrilled about it. In fact, he was so irritated about the whole thing that Dean hadn’t been able to work up the nerve to invite him to sleep in his room, instead of alone. Dean chewed on his lower lip. Maybe after this case, things would change.

“Are you looking up a case?” Cas asked, tilting toward Dean’s screen.

“Uh...yeah.” With forced casualness, Dean turned the laptop so Cas could read a headline from last year: “Gruesome Death at Bed and Breakfast Leaves Locals Worried.” “Over the past forty years, there’ve been six deaths at this B&B. All either heart attacks or a brain hemorrhage. All without a scratch on ‘em. Always a couple. Always on the same night: this Friday. That sure screams ‘ghost’ to me.”

“Key West?” Cas asked as he scanned the article. “Florida? That’s quite a drive.”

Dean shrugged. His fingers tapped against the tabletop. “It is, but hell, why not? Sam gets the week off with Eileen, why can’t we have a little vacation too?”

Cas narrowed his eyes. Suspicious. He was suspicious. Was a little time off really so bad? “You haven’t taken a vacation the entire time I’ve known you.”

“Yeah, well…” Dean struggled to come up with a good excuse. “That was, ya know. Before.”

“Before,” Cas repeated stiffly.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Before everything.” He gestured around his head. Before Cas told him he loved him and immediately died. Before Dean rescued him from The Empty. Before they wound up in this awkward, stilted Angel’s-First-Romance training wheels relationship Dean found them in.

That seemed to placate Cas. He nodded and took another sip of coffee. “The beach would be nice…”

Dean broke into a grin. “Better than nice! Toes in the sand, drinks with little umbrellas… That’s better than paradise.” He gave Cas’ shoulder a friendly pat. Then--because he could, couldn’t he?--Dean let his hand run along the broad expanse of Cas’ shoulder and gently cup the back of his neck.

This was okay, right? He’d held back on any sort of real PDA because of how uncomfortable Cas would act. And that was okay. He understood. Angels and intimacy...Well, angels just worked differently than humans. And it was all new to Cas! It took him over a decade to say he loved Dean. It would probably take awhile before he was ready to hold hands.

But this wasn’t very much, right? Just a light hand on the back of his neck. This was about as innocent as things got!

Except Cas went stiff under Dean, and Dean took the hint and pulled his hand away as he bit back a sigh. So much for that.

His eyes trailed back to his laptop. Hopefully this getaway would change things, help Cas loosen up and finally see that they could act even a little like a couple now. A romantic beach, warm sunshine, half-naked romps in the water, a cozy and only slightly haunted bed and breakfast…

What could go wrong?

----

Three days and one slightly terrifying highway over the ocean later, Dean and Cas pulled into a parking space for a charming bed and breakfast painted in a lovely pale--

“Lavender?” Dean balked at the decidedly dainty color of the siding. “I know they like their pastels here, but geez…”

“It’s just a paint color,” Cas said as he crossed around to the trunk and started unloading their bags. The duffle full of salt, shotguns, and various iron weapons clanked ominously. He shouldered it carefully so it wouldn’t make so much noise.

“This whole street is like friggin’ Candy Land.” Dean eyeballed the canary yellow house across the street suspiciously as they made their way to the front door.

The inside was clearly the result of a scandalous love affair between a Jimmy Buffet concert and a Hallmark store--All tacky tropical themed furniture and a dizzying array of porcelain figurines.

Dean grinned from ear to ear and elbowed Cas. At Cas’ inquisitive eyebrow, Dean nodded his head to a shelf full of long-haired, sad-eyed blonde angels. Cas rolled his eyes while Dean laughed to himself.

“Hello! Can I help you?” An older woman sat behind a small reception desk, smiling warmly at them in the glow of her ancient computer.

Dean put on his best people-pleasing smile. “Yes you can. Hi, I’m Dean, and this is my, uh…” Dean glanced over to Cas and his eyes crinkled in delight. “Cas. This is my boyfriend, Cas.” Just the word caused a giddy bubble of effervescence to float inside Dean’s chest. After all this time, they were really here. This was real.

Cas offered the receptionist a small, tight smile before turning his studious gaze to the figurines on the wall shelves. The woman furrowed her brow, so Dean charged forward with the conversation before Cas’ awkwardness put her off. If they were going to pry into the case here, they needed her to be friendly with them. “I booked a reservation for this weekend. It--Are you guys still open? It’s kinda quiet in here.” Dean glanced around the empty living space. There weren’t any other cars parked outside either.

The woman waved off his concerns. “Oh yes, it’s just the off season right now. Some weekends are like that.” She spoke a little too quickly as she clicked through her computer. Dean suspected all the news articles about bloody deaths had something to do with it. “Not hard to find your reservation. You’re our only guests tonight.” She grabbed two keys off a hook and held them out for Dean. “You’ll be in room 4, down at the end of the hallway upstairs. It’s the largest one. If you need extra towels or anything, let me know. I’m Susan.”

Sensing they were about to be dismissed, Dean swerved into a distraction. “You know, we’ve been on the road for ages. Do you have any coffee or anything like that? A little wakeup before we hit the beach?”

Susan pushed back from the desk. “Oh of course! I was about to get some for myself, actually. I’ll be right back.”

“Keep an eye out for anything suspicious, Cas,” Dean muttered as Susan disappeared down a hallway. “Anything out of place or really old. You know, haunted stuff.” Cas nodded, and Dean covertly pulled his EMF reader out of his jacket pocket and flicked it on. It was silent. They both made a pass of the room, pretending to look around.

“Here we are!” Susan said brightly, expertly holding three coffee mugs in her hands. Dean jumped a little and hastily put his device away before turning around. “I hope cream and sugar is okay.”

“Any caffeine is fine,” he assured her as he and Cas took their mugs. “So Susan, what is there to do around here? You know, other than what Yelp says. The insider’s scoop.” Dean winked as he took a sip of his coffee.

Susan smiled. “Well, if nightlife is your thing, there are some great spots within walking distance.”

Dean chuckled. “C’mon, Susan. Does this guy look like much of a dancer?” He grinned fondly at Cas as he draped his arm over his shoulders. It was ridiculous how much his stomach fluttered from the small action, but dammit, after all they’d been through to get here, Dean had earned a few butterflies. He squeezed Cas’ shoulder even though Cas didn’t really react. Dean was definitely going to have to clarify that the personal space rule didn’t apply anymore.

“Well, the restaurant down the street also does an excellent brunch,” Susan offered instead.

“Now that’s more our speed.” Maybe if the hunt went well they could actually stay the night, instead of getting the hell out of Dodge before the cops chased them down. Keep their salt and burn quiet and enjoy a nice night in. Dean tried not to get his hopes up for sharing a bed with Cas.

And he did mean sharing a bed. Things were moving so slowly between him and Cas he’d be thrilled just to spoon, nevermind anything else. Dean bit back a sigh as he swept over all of the knick-knacks and decorations, hoping for some sort of clue as to the identity of their ghost. “I’ve gotta say, I love the decor. Is all of this your collection?” Maybe a haunted object? Or a cursed one?

“Most of it.” A faint twinge of wistfulness colored Susan’s words as she looked over the porcelain figurines. “My Marcy liked to collect the angels, but that was years and years ago.”

On a high shelf was a large urn next to an oil painting of a young woman that immediately pinged Dean’s hunter’s instincts. “That’s a lovely painting over there,” he said, catching Cas’ eye meaningfully. Cas turned around to look too.

Susan’s face melted into a quiet, sad smile. “Yes, that’s my Marcy right there. A self-portrait. She was such a talented artist.”

Cas tilted his head. “She was your...wife?” he guessed.

Susan’s face crumpled. “No. No we were never…” She took a deep breath and continued in a steadier tone. “She was my business partner, but I loved her. Very much. And I knew she loved me too. So I suppose you could say we were almost together. Should have been together.” Her lower lip trembled.

“If you don’t mind my asking, what stopped you?” Dean felt bad for pressing her for information that was clearly upsetting, but people’s lives were at stake. Possibly Susan’s own.

Susan curled her hands around her mug, staring into the steaming coffee with a far off look in her eyes. “I was afraid. Of my own feelings. Of opening myself to getting hurt. So I...When Marcy needed me to be honest about how I felt I...I let her down. She got mad...We fought...She ran off. There was an accident, and...Well...” Susan took another deep breath. Her eyes were glassy with tears and heavy with regret. “Today is the anniversary of the day she died.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Dean said, injecting even more sincerity into his words even though he expected as much. Marcy was the best lead so far. Was she attacking people on the anniversary of her death? She was obviously cremated, but perhaps there was something keeping her tied here?

“Not your fault,” she said with the heaviness of one who had heard those words hundreds of times. She shook her head. “You’re not the reason she--” Susan cut herself off and swallowed down her tears. Despite her best efforts, a single tear trailed down her cheek.

“It sounds like you loved her very much,” Cas said, his voice infused with genuine sympathy.

“She was my world. I loved her more than she’ll ever know...” Again Susan fell silent, this time lost in thought.

Then, with a deep, resettling breath, she wiped at her eyes with the edge of her finger and forced a cheerful expression. “But enough of that. You’re my guests. You don’t need to hear all of that! Do you need anything while you get settled in? More towels? Recommendations for restaurants?”

Dean shook his head, “Appreciate it ma’am, but we’ll probably just grab whatever’s convenient around here.”

“Well, would you like to eat here? Usually I don’t serve dinner for guests, but since it’s only the two of you, I can cook up something if you’d like. I honestly wouldn’t mind the company.”

Sensing another opportunity to interview Susan, Dean smiled his very best ‘comforting the bereaved’ smile. “We’d like that very much, Susan. Thank you for offering.” Then, carefully timed almost like an afterthought, he added, “Oh, and what’s the wifi password?”

Upstairs their room was somewhat small but airy. The walls were a crisp, breezy blue, the linens bright white. There was even a gauzy white canopy draped around the four-poster bed. Dean grinned. One bed. Surely that was cause for some optimism about tonight.

“I dunno about you, but I’m gonna sleep like a log tonight,” he said with the most casual tone he could muster as he grabbed the weapons bag off Cas’ shoulder and deposited it on the duvet. “What about you? Think you’ll need a couple z’s?” ‘Please say yes.’

Cas eyed the bed. Something strange flickered across his face. Something heavy, even sad. Dean immediately felt like a jackass for reminding Cas about his weak Grace. “I mean, who knows how you’ll feel tonight,” Dean added hastily. He started digging through his bag for his laptop. “Get some sea air in your lungs, and you might wake right up.”

Cas pursed his lips. “I suppose so,” he said, his voice carefully neutral. He turned away from Dean and started roaming the room, looking over the artwork on the walls and the little beachy decorations on the furniture. He came to a stop.

“This looks like Susan and Marcy,” he said, letting his fingers trail along the frame of a painting over the dresser.

“Yeah?” Dean looked up from his booting laptop. It was an oil painting like the one downstairs, with a young couple in bright dresses making each other laugh in front of a backdrop of a stormy gray ocean. One was undeniably a much younger Susan. Marcy looked the same as she did in the painting downstairs.

Cas frowned a little and pulled his hand back from the frame. He glanced around the ceiling and only relaxed when he saw an air-conditioning vent gently humming nearby. Dean shrugged it off and turned back to his laptop. He set right to work searching through the local newspaper archives and breaking into the coroner’s office servers. Finding their ghost was only a matter of time.

“Got it. Marcy Daniels. Died forty-three years ago tonight.” Dean flipped his laptop around so Cas could read the news article. “Hit by a car. Right outside this house. Died before she even got to the hospital.”

Cas squinted at the screen. The photo attached to the article looked just like the woman in the paintings. “And you think she’s the ghost?”

Dean shrugged. “Seems as good a guess as any. Violent death. Susan said they were fighting right before. Probably something happened between them that left Marcy pissed off enough to stay in the veil.”

Cas nodded. “We should ask her about it.”

“Nah, she’s not gonna let us grill her about her dead partner like that. We’ll strike up a conversation at dinner. That should give us enough time to figure out what’s keeping Marcy here before she attacks tonight.”

Cas deferred to Dean’s hunting experience. “Well then what should we do until then?”

Dean grinned from ear to ear. “What do you think we should do? To the beach!”

---

Dean shut the trunk of the Impala and straightened his back, lifting his face to the breeze blowing in from the sea. He breathed in deeply. “God, smell that salt air…” he said with a wistful smile. When he turned to Cas, the angel was looking at him with fondness, warmth making his blue eyes brighter. Dean’s smile grew, and he lifted up his sunglasses to flash Cas a playful wink. Cas quickly ducked his head and started walking.

Dean bit back a groan as he followed behind him with their beach bag. What was he doing wrong? He was trying to be gentle, to give Cas enough space to adjust to the idea that they were together now on his own. After all of the crap they’d been through together, after so many things keeping them apart, he understood why Cas was struggling. Hell, he’d been squashing down his feelings for so long, Cas probably didn’t know how to let himself have this happiness.

At least, that was what Dean kept telling himself. Deep down, though, he was afraid that Cas’ feelings were changing.

“There’s a good spot,” Dean said, jogging up behind Cas and forcing down his depressing thoughts before they could meet up with his self-loathing and really cause problems. He grabbed Cas’ arm and tugged him toward an unoccupied part of the sand. The weather was a little too temperamental this time of year to attract huge crowds, but there were still plenty of people out enjoying the sunshine.

Cas let himself be led, his flip-flops flapping awkwardly over the sand. Dean laughed a little, even though his footing wasn’t much better. When they’d walked far enough away from the boardwalk, Dean unceremoniously dropped their bag and dug out a large blanket to lay out.

“Perfect,” he declared as he tipped up his sunglasses to survey his work. He plopped down on the blanket and shucked off his shirt. A quick glance up let him catch the way Cas’ eyes widened for a fraction of a second before his expression smoothed over. Dean wiggled his eyebrows at Cas, but he didn’t see because he turned around like a friggin’ Victorian lady in order to pull off his own shirt before he sat down in front of Dean, facing the ocean. Dean’s gaze swept down the broad, muscular expanse of Cas’ back, and he could barely contain the heat in his eyes and in his grin.

Only then did Cas glance over his shoulder and catch Dean’s eye. Dean bit his lip suggestively, his grin widening, but Cas’ cheeks turned lightly pink and turned his head away. He rubbed at the back of his neck. Nervous, huh? Well that was alright. Dean could lighten the mood.

He held up the bottle of sunscreen. “Alright, let’s spackle your back.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary, Dean,” Cas said, not turning around. His voice sounded even more gruff than usual, which was certainly saying something.

“Nonsense!” Dean was already squirting a healthy dollop of sunscreen in his palm. “You can get sunburned, same as the rest of us.”

Cas sighed heavily. His shoulders twitched, tense, but he didn’t protest when Dean slapped his hand at the middle of his back.

Dean set to work rubbing the cream into Cas’ warm skin. “See? This is nice. It’s like a mini-massage.” He made sure to move slowly, almost caressing him. His stomach fluttered with the faintest whisper of excitement. This was the closest thing he’d gotten to action in months, after all. And Cas’ back was nice. Broad and firm and far more muscular than Dean would have guessed. His heart did a little tapdance at knowing that he was allowed to freely ogle now.

“I like seeing you out of the trenchcoat,” Dean said, now using both hands to stroke up and down Cas’ skin. Cas tensed again. “I mean, you look good under all those layers,” Dean said hastily, afraid that the reminder of his waning Grace was too painful. “When did you get so beefy?” Dean slid his hands up to Cas’ shoulders and then down his thick arms. He squeezed them playfully as he shifted closer, letting his knees bump against him.

He leaned in close so he could almost whisper, “Wish I could see it somewhere other than the beach.”

Cas’ back became hard as marble. He lowered his head. “That’s enough, Dean,” he said softly. His voice trembled with some barely contained emotion Dean didn’t understand.

Disappointment rose up Dean’s throat like bile. “Seriously? I’m almost done!”

Cas twisted around, his face pulled into a scowl. His cheeks were flushed. “Dean! I’m an angel! I don’t need this!”

Dean pulled back. “What? I can’t even put sunscreen on you now?” he demanded.

Cas didn’t have an answer to that. He only glared, his eyes flickering with something Dean couldn’t quite figure out. Pain? Longing? Regret?

Knowing Dean’s penchant for screwing things up all the time, it was almost certainly the latter.

Cas breathed out a long, frustrated breath and rose to his feet. “I’m...going for a walk,” he said. He folded his arms over his bare chest.

“Cas,” Dean pleaded. What had he done wrong? Why was Cas so mad?

Cas shook his head. “Please, Dean.” With one last glance filled with that strange, heartache-inducing emotion, Cas turned and started walking down the beach alone.

Dean stared after him as he left. “What the hell?” he said under his breath. The sting of rejection quietly throbbed in his chest as he turned his gaze to the ocean. What had he done to piss Cas off? Had he really crossed a boundary, or was something else wrong? Cas had been so weird since he’d been back. Shouldn’t he be happy? Hell, telling Dean he loved him was the happiest Cas had ever been, right? That was part of his deal with The Empty!

Did he regret it? Did he change his mind? Maybe Cas really didn’t want to have Dean. Not for real. Maybe that was why Cas never told him how he felt before. He had to have known Dean loved him long before his deal with The Empty came along. Maybe there was a reason Cas hadn’t said anything about it before.

Maybe Cas knew that Dean would screw things up if they got together. Maybe he was trying to pull away from Dean, make it easier to break things off when it all came crashing down.

Dean stewed in his thoughts, his expression dark as he watched the waves. He lost track of time until a pair of children came racing past him, screaming in delight and startling him out of his thoughts. He pulled at his phone to glance at the time. Cas had been gone over half an hour. Way too long. Dean looked down the beach, almost expecting to see Cas trudging back up the beach back to him, but he didn’t see any sign of him. But Cas couldn’t have left left. Dean had the car keys! Quietly cursing, Dean pulled out his phone and dialed Cas’ number.

...And heard a familiar ringtone coming out of their bag.

“Dammit, Cas!” Dean growled as he hung up. He stood up, but he still couldn’t see Cas. Had something happened? What if he’d gone in the water? What if he’d gotten pulled out to sea by a riptide? Despite knowing Cas didn’t even know how to swim, worry dripped ice cold down Dean’s spine, and before he knew it he was walking down the beach along the path Cas had taken.

“Cas!” he called out, but he didn’t see him. Dean started walking faster. He scanned the beach for a familiar dark head of hair and the bright orange swim trunks Dean had picked out for him. “CAS!” He was beginning to fear the worst.

“You lookin’ for someone?” a concerned voice called out. Dean whipped his head around to a small family sitting underneath an umbrella.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, my buddy Cas.” Dean jogged over to them. “You see him walk by? Kinda beefy, kinda dorky. Dark hair, orange trunks, about yea high.” He held his palm flat about eye level.

The woman who spoke nodded. “Yeah, I think so. I saw him walking back toward town, though.” She pointed over her shoulder.

Dean furrowed his brow. Did Cas walk back on his own? Irritation flared in his chest as he forced a cordial smile and thanked the woman before jogging back the way he came. He didn’t see any sign of Cas back at their blanket either.

Dean scowled. Maybe he had walked back. Running off without a word was infuriatingly in-character for him. Dean cursed under his breath as he hastily packed up their things and started stomping up the beach toward the car.

What was even such a big deal? If Cas supposedly loved him so much, was rubbing his back that bad? Dean was trying to give him space, he really was, but the way Cas was acting, it was like he didn’t even like Dean, nevermind love him!

The thought clenched tight around Dean’s heart as he drove back to the bed and breakfast. Maybe he didn’t anymore. Maybe Cas was getting sick of him. Twelve years in each other’s lives, it was bound to happen eventually.

Maybe what angels considered love and what humans considered love was just different.

Dark thoughts still swirled in Dean’s head as he returned to the bed and breakfast and marched up the stairs.

“Dude, what the hell?!” Dean charged into their room, anger burning hot as his glare zeroed in on the angel sitting in a chair. “You can’t just go running off like that! You left your phone behind!”

Cas carefully closed the book he was reading. He was fully clothed again. “It’s not a long walk back here. I assumed you’d know where I’d gone.”

“I was worried sick about you! What if you went in the ocean and something happened?”

Cas narrowed his eyes. “I wouldn’t do that. You know I can’t swim.”

“You can’t just go stomping off whenever you get mad!”

Cas closed his eyes. “I’m not mad,” he said, though the growl in his voice suggested otherwise.

“Like hell you’re not!” Dean shot back. “So what is it? I can’t touch you now? It’s freakin’ sunscreen, Cas. Is it really that big of a deal?”

Cas’ eyes flew open. “Yes!” he said, deeply pained. “Dean, does it really matter so little to you that you’re okay with just ignoring it?”

Dean was brought up short. “Does what matter?”

“Me!” Cas plastered his hand over his chest. He almost looked like he could cry. “I told you how I felt and you insist on acting like nothing happened!”

Dean blinked. “What? That’s...that’s not true, Cas!”

“Dean! You didn’t say anything! Not once since you brought me back, have you said anything about the fact that I love you! And you may think that by ignoring it and trying to force things back the way they were before that you can lock up that Pandora’s Box again, but you can’t! I can’t. I can’t…”

Dean took a step forward, his expression darkening with confusion. “Cas, what’re you talking about?” He didn’t understand. Why did Cas look so hurt? So heartbroken? Cas loved him. Dean loved Cas. So why wasn’t he happy? What had Dean done wrong? “Cas, I--”

Cold mist curled up from Dean’s mouth.

They both went tense and still as they noticed just how cold the room had gotten. The lamp on the bedside table flickered.

“Shit,” Dean muttered under his breath. His eyes darted to the open dufflebag on their bed with all of their weapons.

He made a move for it, but a figure flickered into being in front of him. She was wearing a torn, bloody sundress. Her long, straw-colored hair was plastered to the half of her gaunt face where it was smashed in, blood staining it crimson. The ghost took a step toward Dean. Thick, dark blood dripped from her head but never reached the floor.

“Marcy,” Dean breathed. Guess she didn’t need to wait for nightfall after all.

“Coward,” the ghost menaced as she took another step closer. Dean carefully backed up. “Can’t even say it. Even when you’re hurting him. Coward!”

Dean’s eyes flickered to Cas, who was edging toward their weapons bag. He tried to make the movement quick, but the ghost noticed. With a vicious growl she flung out her hand and Cas went flying into the far wall.

“Don’t worry,” the ghost said to Cas, and the venom in her voice dropped into twisted sympathy. “I’ll take your pain away soon.”

Cas struggled to his feet as the ghost rounded on Dean again. Her outstretched hand aimed directly at Dean’s head, fingers curled into a wicked claw. But before she could touch him, Cas made another attempt at the duffle. She shrieked in fury and sent it spinning through the air toward the window. A single iron poker tumbled out of the open zipper as it flipped over and smashed against the glass, shattering it. The bag tumbled to the ground below.

Cas lurched for the poker. “Dean!” he called as he tossed it through the air, directly through the ghost. She howled and dissipated into smoke while Dean barely managed to close his fingers around the weapon. Cas and Dean stood back to back as they circled the room, Dean holding the iron poker at the ready.

“Salt,” Dean barked. “We need salt!” Except all of theirs was now two stories below. Dean silently cursed. “The kitchen! Go! I’m right behind you!”

Cas nodded and made for the door. The lights were flickering again. He and Dean narrowly made it into the hallway when their bedroom door slammed shut behind them. They raced for the stairs and nearly collided with Susan.

“Cas, Dean, what’s going on?” Her eyes were panicked, taking in the cut on Cas’ temple and the iron poker in Dean’s grip. Mist followed her words out of her mouth.

“Look out!” Dean reached for Susan, but he was flung backward by an invisible force. Marcy flickered into existence over him again. “Salt, Susan! We need salt!” he cried out before the ghost clamped its cold hand around his throat. Dean scrambled from his poker, but it had fallen just out of reach. His other hand grappled with Marcy’s, trying to pull it away.

He couldn’t see with the ghost pinning him down, but he was pretty sure he heard Susan’s footsteps racing away. Good. Even if she didn’t come back, at least she was somewhere safer. Black dots started to swim in Dean’s vision.

“Hey! Marcy!” A ceramic angel went flying through the air and smashed into a framed photo on the wall next to them, shattering the glass. Marcy snarled and whipped her head around. Her grip on Dean’s neck loosened a little, and Dean sucked in as many painful gasps as he could get.

“This is what you’re about, huh?” Cas goaded. He stood next to an accent table full of figurines, another ceramic angel in his hand, fat load of good that would do against a ghost. “Exacting revenge against shitty lovers?” Dean stretched his arm until his muscles strained. He could barely feel the length of the iron rod brush against his fingertips. If Cas could keep stalling for just a little longer... “I think anger has clouded your judgement.” Cas’ lips twisted into a bitter smirk. “You have no reason to attack Dean. Can’t you tell? He doesn’t love me.”

The statement caught Dean completely off-guard. His hand stilled as he gaped at Cas. “What?” he rasped around the ghostly hand on his throat. Didn’t love him!?

The ghost growled at Cas. She raised her arm as if to psychically toss him toward the stairway, but right at that moment, Susan barreled up the stairs, a blue canister of salt in her hand.

“I have the salt!” she said, and with panic and desperation in her eyes she blindly flung the open canister at Dean and the ghost. Salt flung in a wide arc and rained down on Marcy, who screamed and disappeared instantly.

Dean rolled onto his side, coughing weakly as he grabbed onto the iron poker and clutched it against his chest. Cas ran to him, only stopping to grab the canister of salt. He hastily drew a circle around them, draining the last of the salt on their protection ring. “Susan, get in the circle!” he commanded as he knelt beside Dean.

“You don’t think I love you?” Dean choked out between gasps for air. His head was spinning. Cas’ hand on his shoulder helped a lot, but when Dean asked his question Cas quickly yanked it away. “How could you think that?” he said, genuinely confused.

“What’s going on? Why did that...that thing look like my Marcy?!” Susan nearly flung herself into the circle with them. She clutched at her chest, casting her terrified gaze around the room.

“Her ghost,” Cas said, though he didn’t take his eyes off Dean. His brow furrowed. “Dean, you haven’t--”

“Ghost?!” Susan screeched. “Then what the hell are we doing standing here?!”

“Salt repels ghosts,” Cas replied with way more patience than Dean would have had. “She can’t come into the circle.”

“What’s going on?” Susan’s eyes went huge, her face going pale. “She...She killed those people last year, didn’t she? How do we stop her?”

“Usually burn her remains, if anything is left,” Cas said, “but she was cremated, wasn’t she? So something else is tethering her here. Perhaps a locket? Something she cherishes.”

Susan frowned, panicked eyes darting around in front of her as she mulled it over. “Her painting,” she said with a gasp. “The one in your room. She finished it right before our argument! Right before she ran out into the street and was hit by the car. It was precious to her. She put her everything into it, tried to use it to confess her love for me, and I...I was too much of a coward to say it back. That’s why we fought.”

Cas and Dean’s eyes met, and they both nodded. Dean grunted as he pushed himself to his feet, poker still clutched to his chest. “Susan, stay here. Whatever happens, don’t leave the circle. Cas, I’ll keep her busy. You burn the painting.”

As one unit Cas and Dean left the salt circle.

Immediately the hallway burst into chaos. Doors slammed shut everywhere. The knick-knacks and travel guides on the accent table went flying through the air. The lights flickered until their bulbs burst, leaving only the light of the window at the far end to help them see.

They ran.

“You don’t think I love you?” Dean demanded, because a deadly ghost hunt seemed as good a time as any to have this conversation. Some things were too damn important to wait for downtime.

“Because you don’t!” Cas snapped. He threw himself at the shut door of their room, but it was supernaturally sealed. He grunted and tried again. Marcy appeared at his side, a ghostly hand reaching for his chest, a snarl on her lips.

“Cas, of course I love you, you idiot!” Dean swung at Marcy, forcing her to disappear again. Cas slammed himself against the unmoving door. “How could you think I don’t?”

“Dean, I died--” Cas slammed into the door again. His eyes glowed faintly with his weakened Grace. “Telling you how I felt. And you said--” Another crash; the door cracked ominously. “Nothing about it since I’ve been back!”

Marcy flickered into being next to them again. Dean knocked her away with the poker.

“I thought you knew! I thought you didn’t love me and that’s why you never said anything!”

“I told you!” With one final crash, Cas burst through the door and into the room, Dean hot on his heels. They ran for the dresser. “I told you the one thing I wanted, I couldn’t have! That thing was you, Dean!” Cas yanked the painting off the wall and threw it on the ground, shattering its glass and exposing the paper.

Marcy screamed in fury and appeared in front of him. She flung him at the dresser just as Dean dispersed her with a forceful swing. He flipped the poker in his hand, readying himself to strike again while Cas scrambled to his feet, lighter freed from his pocket and held at the ready.

“Because of the Empty!” Dean insisted. Marcy’s form materialized again, and Dean raised his weapon as she approached. “You couldn’t have me because of the deal with the Empty!”

Cas fumbled with the lighter. “I can’t have you because. You. Don’t. Love me!” It finally lit. Cas threw it onto the painting, sending it up in flames.

Marcy howled in agony as her body sparked and burned. She raised her head skyward as if to escape from the rising flames, but in a flash of heat and bright orange light, she was gone, and Cas and Dean were left standing alone in the room.

They stared at each other in the sudden, violent silence. Cas’ face was a mask of frustration and pain.

“Dean, I’ve been back for months. Months. And you have said nothing about how you feel. Do not lie to me now because you feel sorry for me.” With one last heartbroken glare, Cas stomped out of the room, leaving Dean behind to stamp out the flaming remains of the painting.

Once Dean didn’t need to worry about burning the house down, he went looking for Cas. He found him outside, loading up their scattered weapons into the trunk of the Impala.

He looked shattered. His face was crumpled with pain, his eyes dull, deep furrows in his brow. It brought Dean up short. Guilt welled up so intense that Dean almost couldn’t say anything at all. Except, well, that had gotten him into this situation in the first place.

“I thought you knew,” Dean called across the distance between them. Cas stopped and turned to look at him. The bitterness in his eyes made Dean’s stomach churn. “I thought you knew,” he said again. He took a step toward Cas. “For years I thought you knew. But, you know, you’re an angel. I thought you didn’t...I thought you couldn’t…” He trailed off. Cas’ forehead was furrowed in confusion, but he was at least listening, so Dean swallowed down his discomfort and barreled forward. “I thought angels couldn’t fall in love. Except...then you died telling me you did. Telling me that the reason you couldn’t even tell me how you felt was because being happy would trigger your deal and…” He shrugged.

“You thought I was deliberately keeping us apart?”

“Because if you told me you felt the same, then we’d be together and you’d be happy and you’d die.”

The bitterness had faded from Cas’ eyes, replaced with something that Dean was loath to acknowledge looked a little bit like pity mixed with profound frustration. “So when I came back, you thought there wasn’t anything left to talk about?”

Dean scratched the back of his neck and took another step forward. “Yeah well…What else was there to say? You said you, you know, loved me. And I thought you knew that I, you know…” He trailed off.

“Dean.” Dean had never heard Cas sound so pained just saying his name. “You.” Cas scrubbed at his face. His mouth twitched as he struggled to find words for all the ways Dean had screwed up. Was continuing to screw up.

“The hoops that you jump through to avoid talking about your feelings astound me,” Cas finally said. He dropped his hand with a sigh of defeat, and Dean’s heart sank. This was it. The death rattles of a relationship that hadn’t even really started. Dean never had what he truly wanted, and he never would.

Dean ducked his head, unable to look Cas in the eye. “Right. Yeah. That’s me, alright.” He swallowed around the hard lump in his throat. The long drive back to Kansas was going to be awful.

“Say it,” Cas said softly. His words were a command, but when Dean looked up in surprise, his eyes were pleading. “Please,” he breathed, almost like he didn’t deserve to even ask, and something inside Dean cracked.

“I love you, Cas.” One step, two steps, he crossed the distance between them and threw his arms around Cas’ shoulders, clinging to him the way he wished he could have before the Empty took Cas away. “It’s you, Cas. It can only be you. It’s only been you for years. I promise.”

Cas’ next breath stuttered in his lungs. His arms wound tightly around Dean, desperate. “Dean,” he sighed, this time like a prayer.

“I’m right here, buddy.” Dean held him tightly, the way he should have when he first got Cas back from the Empty. The way Dean wanted to all these months when he thought...Well, when he was an idiot. “You can have me, you know. You already have me.”

Cas pulled back enough to look Dean in the eye. His eyes were glassy. Dean’s didn’t exactly feel dry either. ‘I wonder if I can kiss him,’ Dean thought, milliseconds before Cas did just that.

Cas’ lips were warm against his own, and Dean gasped softly as his hand wound through Cas’ thick hair to cradle the back of his head. His kiss was eager, if not clumsy, and Dean smiled a little as he let Cas take the lead anyway. When they finally pulled apart, Cas’ normally pale lips were flushed pink, and Dean’s soft smile morphed into a huge, affectionate grin.

“Hey,” Dean said, his voice surprisingly husky after a largely innocent kiss.

Cas smiled back. “Hello, Dean,” he said, and Dean couldn’t help it. He laughed. God, how he loved this angel.

“So whadya say, Cas?” Dean said when his laughter quieted. “Ready to get the hell outta Dodge?”

Cas’ hands slid down Dean’s back until they were resting on his hips. “Actually…” His gaze turned wistfully in the direction of the distant beach. “I had a different idea.”

---

“You sure this is okay, Cas?”

“Dean…”

“Cuz I mean, I want to respect your boundaries.”

“Dean!”

“And I totally understand if I’m crossing a line here.”

Cas twisted around and gave Dean and his closed bottle of sunscreen a baleful look. Dean couldn’t help but laugh. “If I get sunburned, you can get your own room tonight.”

“You’re probably not even going to sleep anyway,” Dean shot back.

“I’ll sleep just to spite you.” Cas scowled, but Dean could see the corners of his lips twitching playfully. With a rush of affection, Dean shifted so that Cas’ bare back was pressed against his chest and Dean could rest his chin on Cas’ shoulder. Cas went stiff against his body, but it only lasted a second before he practically melted into Dean’s hold. Dean wrapped his arms around him as he watched the waves.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Dean said with a sigh.

“Yes,” Cas breathed, but he wasn’t looking at the sea.

Heat rushed to Dean’s cheeks. He cleared his throat and kept his gaze solidly on the ocean. “You’re such a sap,” he grumbled weakly.

“You’ll get used to it.” Dean could see Cas’ smirk in the corner of his eye. Dean tightened his embrace.

“I dunno if I ever will,” he said quietly, a soft smile on his lips as he finally got to hold his angel.

#starrynightdeancas gift exchange #userstarry #deanwinchesteradjacent #destiel #deancas #destiel fanfic #deancas fanfic #destiel fanfiction #deancas fanfiction #supernatural #spn #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #castiel #katie writes things #long post

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roanniom · 3 years

Note

Hey Issa, my sweet honey bun! I don’t send many requests to people, so bear with me. I’ll forever wait for the day you write Kylo, but until then I’ll throw this one at you for Charlie. I had a wander through the prompt list, and I kinda liked “I’ll feel better if you let me walk you home.” with Charlie being all protective of reader, unsure if she reciprocates his feelings. And because I’m a garbage can of filth, I also loved “I’m not made of glass. You won’t break me.” if you wanted to move into smut. I hope this gets the creative juices flowing? Take your time, no pressure ever! 💕💕💕

@paper-n-ashes as you know I have been holding onto this and chipping away at it steadily for FOREVER so I can get it just right for you, so I hope you enjoy it, my love <3

Push

Charlie Barber x Reader

Word Count: 6,862

Warnings: NSFW, fingering, PIV sex / unprotected sex, light light light choking (not even really), mention of infidelity (just canon from Marriage Story plot), a lil post-divorce angst/lack of confidence

The above photo is Charlie Barber, 1-year post divorce. He’s been working out as a form of anger management and because Henry, over many late night phone conversations, has shared his new love of hiking, a pastime he’s picked up since living in LA. Charlie plans to take Henry hiking on the Appalachian trail next summer break and wants to be on tip top shape to keep up with his enthusiastic son.

He’s been to therapy. Learning more about what went wrong in his marriage, but more specifically learning about how he can become a better person in the aftermath. How infidelity and self-interest were born of a deep-seated need for a love that he was not receiving. A love that was no closer to him prior to his indiscretions but all the same rendered unreachable as a result. He’s given himself time to grieve the man he’d thought himself to be. Because that is what had died with his marriage - not Charlie Barber himself. But the Charlie Barber he’d built in his mind. A man limited by support that came with conditions, love that came with caveats. That Charlie was a father and a husband. He was often suppressed, wound tight, on edge.

This Charlie is a father and a man. He is free to celebrate his own success without fear of wounding nearby egos. He’s limited only by what he feels he deserves. And granted sometimes those self-imposed limitations can really hold him down, as they did when he vowed not to jump into any further entanglements - affairs or otherwise - in the time immediately following his divorce. But that limitation was ultimately beneficial. It gave him space to be alone - with himself, for himself. He was able to finally see his own flaws with his own eyes instead of having them recited back to him by another, as if through a crude, second hand reflection. And in seeing these flaws, he also saw the virtues. Charlie was actually starting to like himself again.

And this is when he meets you.

You storm into his life with an energy he doesn’t recognize, introduced at a party by a friend of a friend, filling his senses with your too-loud-laughter and too-bright-eyes. In many ways that’s how he sees you: too much. Your enthusiasm makes you appear too young, though in truth you’re not that much younger than him. Your smile makes you appear too beautiful, though in truth there are often much more conventionally attractive women in the room at any given time.

“Charlie. Charlie Barber,” Charlie mutters as he shakes your hand. Its warm in his larger one and he’s suddenly a little self-conscious of the fact that he’d been holding his sweating scotch on the rocks just moments before the contact.

“Hello Charlie-Charlie Barber,” you reply with a massive grin, shaking his hand back vigorously and with seemingly no reaction to its clamminess. “The famous director, I assume?”

Charlie clocks the quirk of your eyebrow. A tease. A social cue he’s not used to. Not these days. He looks down at his worn tennis shoes, all too aware all at once of the way they dress down his sweater and jeans. He feels rumpled next to you and he’s not sure he likes it. You’re too put together.

You’re too honest, too fearless, too open to new things. Though Charlie’s beginning to grow, your presence reminds him of how stunted he’d been in his marriage. How the same old restaurants, the same old clothes, the same old glass of the same old scotch had become items of comfort for him, talismans of a previous life that he clung to for some semblance of familiarity. Around you, however, those same old things looks dull and uninspired. Quite the opposite of you.

You are the one to ask him out, though he’s not even really aware that it’s a date at all when he arrives. That’s how much he doesn’t see you coming. His affair had been one of convenience. An opportunity to blow off excess steam, and a pretty disappointing one at that, with neither party really find what they were chasing. His marriage had grown cold long before it had ended. All of this to say that Charlie wasn’t very familiar with warmth. With interest that occurred in the light of day, and attention that was given without anything sought in return.

You’re halfway through lunch before you realize that he doesn’t understand your intentions. So you explain them to him. Clear and empty of any pretense. You are attracted to him and interested in getting to know him further. It’s simple, really. He’s shocked by your openness and the absence of any games. In another life he’d once assumed that a relationship without strife, without agony, without strategic tug of war would be one without passion. However, as he soon learns while taking you out on the second date, that he couldn’t have been farther from the truth.

Over dinner this time he finds himself getting lost in your micro-expressions. Finds his eyes lingering on the animated way you gesture, finds his words getting twisted in his tongue as your gaze weighs on him, expectant and waiting for a response to some question. His bodily responses to your attention are no less potent in the absence of angst. In fact, he is surprised to find that his yearning practically triples when you part ways and he realizes not once had he been made to feel like he had to prove something, or fight, or challenge.

He learns over time that you challenge him in other ways. Challenge him when it comes to picking restaurants outside his comfort zone. Challenge him by dragging him, mid-lunch date, on a shopping trip with you, a trip where you gently help him to finally replace the worn out tennis shoes to which he’d been clinging. Challenge him by laughing with him, not at him, even when the subject of the humor is himself. Your laughter is lighter, more carefree, than he is used to. Then again, he’s not used to being around someone like you.

He kisses you after the third date – the lunch-turned-shopping trip. It’s quick and it’s light, on the curb before an intersection on the East Side, right before you both are about to walk in separate directions. You say nothing when he pulls away. Just smile and turn on your heel, already headed to your next destination. It drives Charlie crazy over the next few days. Not because he assumes you have some hidden agenda. On the contrary, he’s horrified that your interior thoughts match your exterior actions. You have been nothing but honest with him. It is Charlie who has been oscillating wildly in his mind. Between thoughts of how much it might hurt if you turn out to be too good to be true and thoughts of how much he’d love to feel your body on his. To explore the mouth you use so effortlessly to tease him, to compliment him, to charm him. You speak kindness like pleasantries, as if affirmations and praise were as easy to dole out as a cheery “good morning” on a stress-free Saturday. Charlie wants to know what you’re like on a Saturday. Away from the bustle of the city. Away from the common friends and the crowded shops and restaurants that have buffered all of your encounters.

But Charlie’s still afraid.

On your fourth date Charlie is more reserved when you arrive at the restaurant. You break the ice by pointing out that the formality of your dates is beginning to feel silly.

“Maybe it’s the fact that the tables have tablecloths,” you joke, swirling your pasta around a fork. “Or maybe it’s the fact that I’ve never repeatedly had meals with someone I wasn’t already in a relationship with.”

Charlie prickles at the implication, taking a labored swallow of ice water. He doesn’t want to comment on the relationship part of your sentiment so he chooses something more neutral.

“Should I remind you that two of these meals have been at your suggestion and you did, in fact, also plan them as meals.” He relaxes a bit when you laugh heartily at that, relieved that the conversation doesn’t get any more dicey.

“Touché,” you reply. Then you lean forward and whisper conspiratorially at him across the small table. He feels himself lean in, curious but also looking for a chance to just get closer in proximity. He wishes he’d had the courage to sit next to you rather than across from you when he’d first sat down. “Feeling adventurous enough to let me pick where we go after this tonight?”

And Charlie feels adventurous. Adventurous as he lets you whisk him across town and to your favorite arcade bar. Adventurous as he passes you a large handful of quarters he got from the little machine at the front, only to grasp your fist in his when he miscalculates how much of his handful you’d be capable of taking, narrowly avoiding a massive spill of loose change on the floor. Adventurous as he orders a couple of beers and lets you show him your favorite game, Burger Time – a silly little maze game where you collect burger ingredients. Adventurous as he shows you his favorite game, which is pretty much any pinball machine known to man.

“Yours looks cooler than mine,” you huff, walking over to the pinball machine he’s playing once you abandon the one that was definitely broken. Or at least that’s how you justify so many consecutive, immediate losses. Charlie laughs and pulls back the plunger but doesn’t release, effectively pausing his game.

“You wanna try it?” Charlie ushers you in front of him and puts your hand on the plunger beneath his, careful not to release it in the process. “The key is anticipating where the ball will go. It’s all about patterns after a while.”

“Then why does it seem so random?” you ask, looking up at him over your shoulder.

“You just haven’t played enough yet. Over time you can predict what will happen if the ball hits a certain corner. Where it will go if it ricochets juuust right at the last second.”

“Sounds fake but I’ll let you prove it to me,” you say with a laugh, focusing your attention back on the machine.

“We’ll let go in one…two…three.” When you feel the pressure of his hand let up you let go as well, letting him guide both your hands immediately to the buttons on the side of the machine.

For as great as his theory of pinball predictability is, he probably underestimates your ability to suck. Because you do, hard. But you laugh the whole way through, and you never quit. Never turn to him in frustration asking to do something else or even to leave. Instead you keep feeding quarters into the machine and bringing your hands back under Charlie’s on the machine. And no matter how shitty you are, you always at least try to focus.

Charlie, meanwhile, is having a very hard time focusing on anything that isn’t your body. His hips bracket your ass in this helpful position he’s adopted, and he feels your pressure against his pelvis with every enthusiastic wriggle and little jump of frustration that you take in response to the game. When he makes the unfortunate mistake to look down over your shoulder at one point he’s met with a direct view of your cleavage, exposed as it is in your low-cut blouse. Charlie begins to sweat and it has nothing to do with how packed the arcade is or with the exertion of gaming. When he remembers that the arcade is also a bar, he excuses himself to get more beer, hoping that one will cool him off and cool him down.

You dazzle him with a smile thrown over your shoulder when he approaches with the two fresh bottles, and he’s not prepared for how the sight of your face almost knocks him back on his ass.

“Charlie! I did better this time!” He chuckles at your enthusiasm.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, handing you your beer which you sip gratefully.

“I lasted a few more minutes than last time,” you elaborate proudly. “So I’d say that means I now qualify as a pinball wizard.”

“Move over Elton John,” Charlie says with a smirk. You slap him in the shoulder and immediately engage him in a spirited discussion of whether the Elton John movie version of “Pinball Wizard” was better than The Who’s version from the original album. However, after a few minutes Charlie realizes he’s lost in thought. Lost in your voice. Lost in your expressions. Lost in you.

When it finally comes time to leave the arcade, the night drawing much later than it had on your previous nighttime date, Charlie’s scared he’ll be lost without you. The two of you walk together for a couple of blocks before you reach that similar intersection. The place where you part ways.

“I think we really turned around that formality thing, don’t you?” you ask him, turning to Charlie and leaning back against the column of a pedestrian sign. Charlie moves into your space, swallowing his hesitation.

“I don’t know, I began to feel a little unworthy when you ascended past the role of pinball wizard.”

“Oh did I get a promotion?” You ask, tipping your head back so you can look up at him as he steps closer.

“The word wizard conjures up images of wizened old man,” Charlie says dismissively, as if that clears up everything.

“So if you’re saying I don’t remind you of a wrinkled old Merlin – to which might I say, shocker – then what exactly is my new title.”

“One that fits you inside and out.” Charlie braces a hand against the column above your head, his other in his pocket. His head dips down so that it’s closer to your face despite your height difference. You feel warm despite the slight chill in the air.

“And that would be Pinball….?” you prompt.

“Goddess,” he completes the title before pressing his lips to yours. His hands remain on the column and in his pocket until you reach forward and grab a fistful of his sweater, pulling him to you. Then his hands are at your waist, pushing you back into the column. His tongue is in your mouth and your hands are in his hair and he can’t breathe. But he doesn’t want to. He wants to suffocate, wants to asphyxiate on you and the way he feels so tethered to this moment, this intersection, this place where you cannot part ways.

When you break apart to, in fact, breathe, your chest heaves and your smile is radiant.

“As far as kisses goodnight go, I’d say that was top tier,” you say on a laugh. Suddenly Charlie’s throat is constricting and he has to fight his facial muscles to keep from frowning as his hands tighten on your waist.

“That wasn’t a kiss goodnight. Not yet.”

“Any longer and it’ll be a kiss good morning, sir. Have you seen the time?” Your tone is joking. You call people ‘sir’ all the time. It’s a weird quirk of yours, like calling someone dude or pal. But Charlie can feel himself choking on the word, as well as the implications of a ‘kiss good morning.’ All of a sudden he feels like if he could have only one more thing before dying, that’s what he’d ask for. But then he kicks himself internally for being so fucking dramatic and he fiddles with the hem of your shirt.

“Exactly. It’s late.

You survey him from under your eyelashes with a small smile.

“I’ve made this walk many times.”

“It’s dark.”

“I’ve made this walk in the dark many times.”

“I’ll feel better if you let me walk you home.”

Charlie’s heart clenches. Before he can overthink, you’ve ducked out of his hold, grasped his hand and started pulling him down the street.

“C’mon Charlie, hurry up. You’d keep a goddess waiting?” you toss back at him over your shoulder. But in truth it was taking all of Charlie’s self control and the fact that he didn’t know the way to your place to keep him from throwing you over his shoulder and breaking into a full sprint.

~*~

Your place is exactly like you. Eclectic, warm, inviting. There is a moment, as you pull off your coat and turn away to place it and Charlie’s on a coat rack, when Charlie feels much too big for the space. Like he’s some kind of giant invading the home of a sweet little wood nymph. But then his little wood nymph is grabbing him by the front of the shirt and dragging him to a bedroom and the worries fade right out the window.

At first Charlie is gentle with you. His hands ghost over your body as you kiss him beside your bed. When you push him to sit down on the edge of the mattress and step between his open legs to kiss him with a different height dynamic his heart just about jumps clear out of his chest. He hasn’t done this – hasn’t touched or been touched – in so long. The affair had been transactional, just the mechanical motions of sexual gratification. Sex with Nicole, before it stopped, had been even colder, almost as if she had been begrudgingly completing some unwelcome chore.

You, however, are like fire beneath Charlie’s fingers. Your skin, your lips – everything is so warm it feels like you’re too hot to touch. But Charlie would rather risk burning up than to not become accustomed to the feel, the shape, the substance of you. He smooths over your body with a reverential softness, his muscles tense with restraint so as to keep from accidentally pushing you too far too fast. To keep from handling the way that, deep down, he desperately needs.

When your lips suddenly leave his, his brow furrows in frustrations. Before he can open his eyes a soothing finger smooths the furrow away, sliding down the bridge of his nose to press against his kiss-swollen lips. Charlie opens his eyes with a question present in them and you cock your head to the side.

“You’re tense. Like you’re holding back.” The statement isn’t accusatory but it isn’t a question. Charlie takes a shaky breath, unsure about how much he should say. Would his desperation read as too dramatic? Too undesirable? Would his enthusiasm come across as pushy or dominating? His brow must furrow again because your hand moves back up, finger pressing out the wrinkles. He shrugs.

“It’s been…a while for me. I didn’t want to come across as too…much.”

You laugh then and yet again Charlie is struck by how strange it is that you can laugh in his face directly in response to something he’s said without making him feel like you are laughing at him.

“I’m not made of glass. You won’t break me, Charlie.”

“You’re sure about that?” Charlie huffs out with a little chuckle. You give him a smirk and say your next words up against his lips.

“Try me.”

You probably were expecting him to require more cajoling. You probably were expecting him to gradually ease into something more. But Charlie takes you by surprise, grabbing you and pulling you onto the bed with him, rolling so that you’re laid out beneath his body, all the while maintaining hungry possession of your mouth. His body finds its place between your legs and you gasp at the feeling of how huge he is. How hard and insistent against your softness. He drinks from you like a man whose thirst can not be quenched. His hands find purchase on your waist and he squeezes. So hard you’re sure you’ll bruise. You smile against his mouth with the realization that you look forward to watching them bloom later.

Since Charlie seems too preoccupied with groping and making out with you, it is you who eventually takes the next step, beginning to pop open the buttons on your blouse one by one. When Charlie feels the motion of your hands between your bodies he ultimately pulls back to investigate, mouth dropping open at the slow reveal of the lingerie you’re wearing beneath. His hand shoots out to caress the delicate lace of your bra, teasingly not applying any pressure to the breast beneath.

“Do you wear things like this often?” Charlie’s voice is already rough as he asks this. You shrug.

“Whenever I want to feel sexy.”

“You wanted to feel sexy while out with me?” Charlie asks, lifting an eyebrow.

“You made me feel sexier than the lace, Mr. Barber,” you say with a smile before leaning up to capture his lower lip between your teeth. He groans and moves to practically swallow you whole. You’re entirely foreign to him. Enthusiasm, amusement, and enjoyment bundled up into one devastatingly sexy package. There’s no shame in your movements, no angst in your eyes. Just humor. Only an unabashed pursuit of pleasure. And if it’s pleasure you want, it’s pleasure you’ll get.

Charlie now aids you in the process of removing the rest of your garments, so it goes much quicker. When you move to pull off your bra, however, he catches your wrist in his massive hand.

“No…can these stay on?” Your eyebrows shoot up but you notice the way that Charlie is gazing at you with eyes slightly hazy and tongue running over his lips.

“This doing it for you, Charlie?” you tease, shimmying a bit. Charlie’s answer is sincere regardless as he dips his head down to sample the plush skin at the line of your cleavage.

“You have no idea.”

“So you’re a lingerie man, huh?” When you ask he stops to think for a second because, truly, he had never considered himself that way before. He’d never had any reason to. Sure lingerie models in magazines were hot, but it’s not a specific fantasy he’d ever explored previously.

But the sight of you here, strategically covered in lace and laid out beneath him pretty as a picture has him so hard he feels like a teenager unable to control himself. So, as you had urged him, he doesn’t.

“I might be. But really, I’m just enamored by these tits.” His teeth sink into your flesh and you sigh, especially when his tongue comes out to lave warmly at the spot. He moves down your body then, peppering kisses to the exposed skin of your stomach, sliding until your inner thighs rest against the sides of his face and his hands dip below you to squeeze your ass. “Although I feel like this might end up being my favorite part.” He says this last part directly into your clothed cunt, his lips just barely ghosting over the fabric with his words.

You wiggle a bit in his grasp, loving the answering way his fingers dig into your soft flesh. Your fingers card into his lush hair, tugging lightly at the roots, a feeling that shoots through his body and straight to his rock hard member. The way he discretely ruts against the mattress in response does not go unnoticed by you, so you drop a hand under his chin to tip his face back up to look at you.

“Will you fuck me, Charlie?” Your voice is clear and bright. Not playing coy and requiring any convincing. Just asking for something you want. And the hunger in your eyes seems unmistakable, though it still feels to good to be true. Charlie drops his gaze back down to the wet spot forming in your panties before looking back up and practically pouting.

“I’d like to taste you,” he counters. A brilliant smile breaks out across your face at the sound of that but you shake your head.

“There’ll be time for that later,” you argue, tugging on his shoulder to get him back on top of you. “If you don’t get inside me right now I’ll die.”

Charlie almost misses that last part because he’s still stuck on the first part. There’ll be time for that later. The possibility of later squeezes at Charlie’s hard and it’s only after a few echoing seconds that he’s able to process the rest of your statement with a delayed, choking laugh.

“Is someone getting dramatic on me?”

“Not yet, but I will if - ”

“If I don’t get inside you?” Charlie completes the statement in the exact moment a hand drops between your thighs and presses against the soaked fabric covering your slit. You inhale sharply.

“Exactly.”

“I didn’t take you for someone who was pushy in bed,” Charlie says good naturedly, swiping his fingers up the line of you to end with a swirl over where he assumed – correctly – your clit was. You tilt your pelvis to maximize his pressure before surging up to kiss him long and hard.

“I’m actually not. Not really,” you say breathlessly when you finally pull away and drop back down onto the pillows. You stretch luxuriously, almost like a kitten in the sun under his piercing gaze, the movement of your hips bumping his hand to rub you even better. Running your hands up and down the big, strong arms that cage you in and support him, you kiss his shoulder. “I’ve been hoping you would be.”

Suddenly your wrists are being pinned down above your head by one of Charlie’s hands. He’s got your legs open wide with his body sinking against you, hard and heavy.

“Pushy? You want me to be pushy?”

You grin big and wide at him.

“Yeah. Take charge like I know you want – oh!” You’re cut off by the welcome sensation of stimulation as Charlie’s hand drops inside your panties to slide around in your waiting slick. Without the barrier of the fabric between you, the feeling of your velvety slipperiness is enough to make him loose a growl.

He’s not hesitating and he’s not teasing anymore. Charlie has been waiting for this moment. He’s been waiting to care. Been waiting to feel. And what’s heightening the experience even more is the look on your face, the way your lips are parted and the way you gaze up at him longingly, expectantly. Providing all the evidence he needs to prove that you want this too. He wants you and you want him – what a novel idea. There are no angles or obligations, but also no shame or secrecy.

“Well if you wanted me to take charge you should have said so earlier,” he says, the corner of his lip quirking a bit as he dips two fingers inside your soaking cunt, not bothering to start with one. You gasp at the sudden intrusion. The stretch is a lot, but it is everything. Charlie sees the enjoyment register on your face, discomfort melting away almost immediately, and he begins to pull them slowly in and out to massage your walls.

“Maybe – ahh – maybe I should have,” you reply.

“Should I have caused a scene in the arcade?”

“Yes – fuck!” During an inward thrust Charlie curls his fingers up this time, rubbing against that spot in your upper wall that previous guys barely even knew was there. Before you know it he’s adding a third finger and you’re beside yourself. Charlie is elated to see how easily your body responds to his ministrations, how free you are with your reactions. He leans to down to suck a mark over your collar bone while his thumb meets your clit in tandem with his other thrusting fingers.

“You knew what you were doing when you kept rubbing that pretty little ass back into me while I taught you pinball.” His words rumbling against the skin of your throat.

“You made it so easy.”

“And you made it so hard,” Charlie counters, humor very present in his voice. You gasp out a laugh and try to tug your wrists from his grasp, but he doesn’t let you. Just keeps you pinned down as he continues to finger fuck you nice and slow.

“So impatient. I should have known. You’ve been impatient all night, haven’t you?” You whine out affirmations and screw your eyes shut as the pressure starts to build to a crescendo. Charlie picks up speed, his voice growing deeper as he continues. “Wanted me to fuck you on the pinball machine in front of everyone, didn’t you?”

You gasp and toss your head back against the pillows at that, hips bucking involuntarily. Charlie’s nose glides along the perimeter of your jaw, breathing in the scent of you as you fall apart. He’s never felt so powerful as he does with the feeling of your muscles tensing up under his fingertips. Never had the inspiration or audience for such language, but as you shiver and respond to his words, a surge of pride fills him and all he wants to do is dangle you over the edge over and over again.

“Charlie…” His name is a whimper when it falls from your lips. You’re so close. He feels it. So he pushes his fingers deep inside you, curling up with the motion, just as he sweeps one, two, three final circles into the throbbing bud of your clit.

You crest and you break against the tide of your orgasm, plummeting down from such heights you didn’t know you could reach from simple fingering. But there’s nothing simple about Charlie, the man who had been broken and put back together, only to find you, the universe’s overly generous reward for his perseverance.

Charlie’s slightly (unfocused) eyes focus on your heaving chest as you finally descend from the orgasm, but you’re the one to break the spell. Impatient is the perfect way to describe you as you wrap your legs around his middle and hook your ankles to trap him against you. You lunge up to arrest his mouth in a kiss. It’s sloppy, but just enough to distract him so that you can pull your wrists from his grasp. Once free you push him gently to the side so that you’re both rolling over, mouths still attached. He comes to rest on his back with you straddling him.

Charlie blinks up at you, taking in the way your breasts bounce in their bra cups as you busy yourself with the task of removing his clothes. He hadn’t even realized he was still in them until you began unbuttoning and pulling and pushing. Your impatience is clear once again in the way you divest him of the frustratingly excessive material and he finally gets the memo that he should help you.

With his pants and underwear pulled off and discarded, as well as the button up shirt that you had come to love as his signature look, you rest your palms flat on the plane of his chest. You’re still in your lingerie, as he had requested, only it is now beautiful askew. Your breasts now strain out of the cups, having been jostled into almost spilling out with your change of position. Your panties are sopping wet and stretched from his vigorous fingering and the evidence of your orgasm.

You’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

But you become even more beautiful when you wrap your hand around his aching cock, lifting up on your knees as you do so. Your fists slides up and down, up and down and he watches it, mesmerized, until you lean forward to catch his eye.

“What should I do, Charlie?”

Your face is soft and open. You’re asking for him to continue taking the lead. And Charlie realizes right then and there that he will never want to disappoint you. Snapping out his daze he lets his fingers dig into your flesh where his hands curl around your hips.

“Sit down on my cock, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

The term of endearment is so sugary. He’s called his son that, but never a lover, casual or otherwise, and never during the first time. Your face, however, lights up and you do as you’re told, sinking down onto his long, hard length. The impact draws a moan from both of your throats followed by gasped phrases spoken over one another.

“You’re so big!”

“You’re so tight!”

You both laugh at the overlap but laughter turns to groans as you roll your hips experimentally. After a few moments of this, it appears that Charlie becomes the impatient one finally.

“Ride me,” he spits through gritted teeth. Your nails imprint half moons in his skin as you clench at his tone, not quite hearing the words. Charlie sucks air through his teeth at the squeeze.

“What?”

“Ride me. I need you to fucking ride me.” You can tell that he’s trying to remain cool and collected, but his brow is furrowed and his bottom lip is caught between his teeth.

So you do as he says. You lift up and drop down, feeling the length of his cock slide through your sheath with a speed that you set, establishing a rhythm that has your toes curling. You let out a particularly shameless moan and Charlie opens his eyes. They widen immediately upon seeing that you’re clutching and squeezing at your own breast with one hand while grabbing onto his hip to stabilize you with the other. The sight alone of your face, screwed up in pleasure, flips a switch in Charlie and suddenly he is thrusting up into you without mercy.

“Charlie!” you cry out, both from surprise at the increased jostling and from how tremendously good it feels.

“I should have fucked you in the arcade. I would have if I had known how good you feel.”

“I – oh fuckfuck – knew,” you barely get out. Charlie hoists you back so that he’s sitting up with his back against the headrest now. The position gives him more leverage and power so he can lift you up and down his cock, bouncing you now with a rhythm that vibrates through your entire being.

“What was that, sweetheart?” Charlie asks, engulfing one of your breasts in his huge hand. The added sensation is perfect, but not quite enough. You wonder if you can coax more.

“I knew you would feel good.” You reach down to the base of his cock, encircling it as much as possible with it’s girth, and fisting upward just as he pulls you up, therefore maximizing the squeeze on his length. Charlie inhales abruptly and drops you back down.

“Little Miss Know-it-all, are you?” His voice is harsh and it sends a thrill throughout your body. Before you can respond, you’re pushed and yanked around, losing your grip with the motion.

“What - ?” Charlie’s hand on your throat quiets you. Not because he’s truly squeezing, but because the solid warmth of his hand causes you to squeak your way to silence. His adjustments now find you pulled up to the edge of the bed, legs spread and pushed back, with Charlie standing between them. Bent over, he grounds himself with one hand on your throat and one on your hip, positioning his tip back at the entrance to your weeping cunt. You expect him to slam his hips forward, to impale you with his cock, but he pauses with the swollen head just inside your folds.

“This okay?”

This power and control, the way he is manipulating your body for your pleasure and his own – he loves it. It’s so new and yet something he now wonders how he ever did without. But he also feels the need to check in and make sure that you’re still with him. The nod you give, the sparkle in your eye, and the quirk of your lips is all it takes to convince him and then he is plowing forward, slamming himself back in again and again. You let out a full throated moan and Charlie revels in the way your eyes roll all the way back.

He wonders what else will make you do that. What else will make your eyes roll back and your toes curl and your teeth sink into your bottom lip? He wonders, as his hand presses softly into the contours of your throat, what it would feel like to squeeze a little harder, and if the pressure would make you even more desperate for him. He wonders if you like a little pain with your pleasure, as he has long suspected he might enjoy, though has never truly had the chance to confirm.

But there will be time for that.

So now, he does his best to focus in on the sounds you release. Sounds of delight and surprise and sensual thrill. He coaxes you to your second climax and you don’t fight it. You don’t demure or wait for him or hesitate. Instead you unapologetically allow yourself to get lost in the pleasure he’s built for you, seizing and quaking beneath him without shame.

The sight and feeling are so beautiful he can’t help but follow soon after, pulling out and allowing releasing all over the bra and panties you had so generously left on for him. The sight of his seed landing on the delicate lace, as you lay beneath him fucked out and smiling, causes another tremor to rock through him, and he finds that he’s still cumming long after he usually would have finished.

Charlie finds himself in a daze in the immediate aftermath of his release. He looks around for something to clean you with, and when you notice you point out a box of tissues on the desk. After he’s done his best to wipe you up, you give him a kiss on the cheek. The mundane intimacy of the act makes him blush all the way to the hidden tips of his ears. It is absurd because you had just had sex, however the press of your lips to his skin seemed to seal the deal. This was not transactional. It was something more, Charlie can’t help but think to himself as you get up from the bed and skip to the bathroom.

In your absence Charlie again registers the smallness of your room. How large – out of place, maybe – he is amongst your delicate things. He pulls on his underwear and sits back down on the mattress, unsure.

Unsure about your expectations. Unsure about whether or not you’d want him to leave. Or stay.

Before he can make a decision in either direction you are bounding back into the room, a smile on your face. Your face is freshly washed and you’re in a faded, oversized tank top, having divested yourself of your abused lingerie. Charlie swallows at the sight of your breasts, free and outlined beneath the soft fabric. He adjusts his hands in his lap. No need to let you see him getting worked up again so soon like some horny teenager. You don’t seem to notice, instead slipping easily into bed beside him, shimmying under the covers and patting the space beside you so that he does the same.

So stay he will.

Once you’re both comfortable and situated, you slide into his arms, drawing them around your body without a question or seemingly a second though. Much like the way you’d slid into his life, Charlie thinks ruefully, nuzzling his face into the top of your head as you tuck in beneath his chin.

“Charlie?”

“Hm?”

“I know you always go to that diner on 15th for breakfast,” you begin, and Charlie’s heart spasms. Both at the thought of breakfast with you and the fact that you so casually know details about him. About his likes and his habits. He pulls you in a little tighter and nods his head.

“Yeah?”

“Would you mind if I show you a new place in the morning? I think you’ll really like it.”

And Charlie laughs. Because of course you’d want to push him out of his comfort zone. It’s what you do – push him to try new things. Push him to do things he wouldn’t usually consider. Push him to be the man he’d been working so hard for the past year to be.

“Yes, but I’m not changing the way I order my eggs,” he grumbles with humor, kissing the crown of your head. “Not yet.”

~*~

The next morning you order first, and you’ve never had breakfast with Charlie before, so when he asks for the same dish, you can’t possibly know that this is his first time ordering eggs Florentine.

As you both laugh and eat and sip coffee in the outdoor seating area of the quaint café you’d picked, fingers intertwined between you on the wrought iron table, you also can’t know that this is the happiest Charlie has felt in ages.

But he makes it his mission, right there and then, to do everything in his power to make you feel the same.

~*~

Tagging some lovely friends (please let me know if you would like to be tagged or untagged in the future!): @celestiasin @tlcwrites @noocturnalchild @thedivinemissn @insufferablelust @edencherries @historyandfandoms50 @lostinthedrive @thewilddingleberries @mariesackler @safarigirlsp @direnightshade @sacklerscumrag @clydesfavoritegirl @wayward-rose @hopeamarsu @barbers-glimmerin-darlin @finn-ray-nal-beads @fizzywoohoo @maybe-your-left @aliveandlonely @han-not-solo @mrs-zimmerman @maryforyou @jynzandtonic @renmaulxo @millenialcatlady @soggywhore @transparentmeoo @leia-suns @alpha-lobito

#paper-n-ashes #charlie barber x reader #charlie barber x you #Charlie Barber/reader #Charlie Barber/you #Charlie Barber fanfiction #Charlie Barber smut #marriage story fanfiction #Marriage Story smut #writing #smut #Roanniom #tw: unprotected sex #tw: choking

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simluvbot · 3 years

Text

Enhypen as dates they would take you on <3

tags: gn!reader, established relationship au, fluff, bf! enha

members: all members !!

wc: 400-800ish for each member ?? this is very long uh I’m sorry I got carried away

a/n: hi, welcome to my first piece of writing on this blog 😁😁 I tried to write so that these matched the members and their personalities the most! Also as this is my first post any interaction is so cherished 🥺 but anyways,, I hope you enjoy :D

open to read

Heeseung

he would take you to so many fun places!!

Your dates would consist of going bowling together, theme parks, a walk in the park — you can count on having a fun time with heeseung!

He would just want to impress you );

He’s be always so attentive to you and remember even the littlest of details about you

You’d be in a shop together looking around and he’ll tap your shoulder, showing you a lace shirt that you instantly fall in love with

It’s just your style!

You’d ask him how he knew you would like it, to which he would simply mumble with, “you told me a few months ago that you like shirts like this.”

You’d just stand in shock like :ooo

Not even you remember telling him that ):

Please he loves you so much, if it’s something that you tell him you like or don’t like, he’ll immediately store it in his memory! He wants to know so much more about you 🥺

Your dates are definitely what you look forward to whenever you see him!!

As much as you love fun day outs with him, you also love your chiller night dates at him <3

Meeting each other late at night after practice? A must!! No way can you let your hee go home alone when he’s the last leaving the practice room after a long day ):<

You would often surprise him by showing up at belift at ungodly hours, and as much as he would scold you with a light frown for coming to see him when it’s already half past midnight,,

You still always catch that small little smile he has whenever you do surprise him hehe

to be aware of just the fact that youre there? is enough for him. you ground him and its especially those spontaneous dates youll throw upon him and inevitably show him without the words uttered that you care for him and you love him?

those are secretley his fave (: but he doesnt have to tell you that - youve already guessed :D

But at the same time on those late night after-practice dates he just wants to make sure that you’re not staying up too late all the time just to make sure he’s doing okay after practice, his y/nnie needs their sleep too ):

And what you’ll do together? Eat ramen of course!!

Although these little late night dates with him usually dont last no longer than an hour, he still treasures them so dearly in his heart ):

Hee sometimes needs a lot of love and assurance, even if he doesn’t mention it

And you’re the best at making him feel better instantly 🥺

but we seriously cant forget about your daytime dates too! each date of yours is always filled with so so many jokes and giggles that your hearts burn with longing for the other whenever you part ways ):

i can see that he’ll even store the memory of your dates even weeks after they’ve happened - he’ll store those memories of you; all in his heart (and the polaroid he took of you in the back of his phonecase 😳) and tucked close.

Jake

as for dates, to me he seems the type to be into really spontaneous and random things!! He’d love going somewhere fun or just simply randomly travelling with you without a destination!

He especially loves to sneak out of the dorm late at night and meet you at you and his favourite park.

It’s located at the top of a really tall hill, and you’ll both spend hours sitting on the swings, chatting away with little care for the rest of the world or the time as you both simply giggle at each other’s jokes and contentedly talk about anything and everything; watching the city lights glow from hundreds of metres below you

He’d offer you his jacket when the temperature drops by a few degrees suddenly

You’d be like no!! It’s okay you should also stay warm, I’m okay 🥺

But then because he is such a sweetheart he’d huff and sit next to you on the swing, making the single-seater far too cramped as he tries to supply you with his body heat if that’s the only way that you’ll accept not freezing to death 😠

But then you’ll both slip due to there not being enough space for both of you on the wing, and your both fall flat down on your butts lmao

You’d both freeze, staring at each other blankly on the floor

but then you’d both crack up and laugh for the longest time — hushing each other in-between giggles from the fear of maybe you were being a bit too loud and could wake some people up?

But then you’d both fall into giggling messes once again as you blame each other for causing the other to fall down ):

You’d eventually sit together huddled on a bench, sitting in silence and simply staring out at seoul’s twinkling night lights as you share his leather jacket: heavy and warm as it drapes across you and his’ shoulders

But eventually you’d both finally head home! — your eyelids soon growing too heavy and both of you afraid of accidentally falling asleep at a park at 1am lmfao

idk why but i can just see a lot of late-night dates with jake,, such as

baking cookies together at 1am???? probably has happened twice already in your relationship aha 😁

honestly you both spend so much time together casually that you end up arguing on whether that time where he randomly showed up at your house wanting to make relationship bracelets together was really a date or not lmao

he is also so <3 so incredibly sweet too though uGH. he is a sweetheart and like heeseung he will remember every little detail of you which will be useful for when he comes up with more date ideas in the future (

on dates such as eating at a restaurant together he will always bring you flowers like the gentleman he is.

it’s kinda funny because when youre both on a date together alone with no other people around you both become complete crackheads

but when meeting in front of others he acts so mature and serious suddenly lmao ??

but honestly he just trusts and loves you so so much that he doesnt even feel like he needs to act a certain way or try to become someone complteley different on a date just to impress you

but its okay because you love the duality of jake sim <3

someone get me him pls. i want one </3

Jay

With jay, shopping dates ??? yes of course (;

he’d simply love taking you out either down a road with many well-known clothing brands or maybe even the mall, entering several clothing stores with you

he never mentions it, but its obvious how much he simply adores seeing you wear the clothes he picks out for you :D

oh and matching couple outfits are obviously always chosen whenever you go out on these fashion dates!!

he will pick out a selection of items he thinks will look good on you, and - to admit it to himself: he does a pretty good damn job

tell me why this boy will get so flustered whenever he sees you walk out of the changing room,, looking so pretty in what he chose for you ??

he’d also one day surprise you on a date with matching couple bracelets :D

you’ll get so excited and he’ll get so shy and try to hide his smile as you compliment how good his sense of style is !! and as much as he denies the fact that he’s blushing you luckily do manage to snap some pics as evidence of the rosy colour in his cheeks hehe

and especially earlier on in the relationship, he’ll always try his best and prepare cute little dates for you both )): and the members would tease him to DEATH for how unbelievably soft and considerate he is when doing things for you when he is so cranky towards them lmfao

chill dates (:

walking in the park together, getting ice cream, going for late night drives and listening to music together </3 with jay it never has to be complicated

Just as long as he gets to be with you, talk with you and touch you then that’s more than enough for him (: he just likes to be in your company

and Idk why I can just see this but he wILL have playground dates with you. dont question it

Because like ?? hanging out on the swings or climbing frame of a kids park at 11PM when there’s no one else there but you both?? Talking and swinging quietly next to each other? very romantic to me hmm

Yes <3

he will stare at you as he silently swings a back and forth a little; brushing the hair out of your face and looking at you with so so much love in his eyes it’s unbelievable

he especially loves just relaxing with you. watching a show on the tv together while cuddling and staying close to each other is something he loves

hearing your giggles and listening to you talk while engaging in teasing banter where he’ll pretend to think the things you say are stupid by scoffing and rolling his eyes when in reality his heart is swelling and he’s trying so hard not to laugh at how cute you are?

shut UP

those are definitely one of his favourite types of dates with you

he’ll constantly try to impress you and will be willing to try so many different things with you

i can see him as either being openly interested about going on typical couple dates together such as painting or eating at romantic restaurants,, or every time you mention something of the sort he’ll be groaning at yet another mention of the ‘couple bucket list’ you had created lol

but actually he’s secretly really excited for that couple mug-painting session you booked for you both. but he will never tell you that 😳

in conclusion, with jay it really never has to be something complex for you both to enjoy your dates <3 he just loves being in your company, even if its one of those nights where you both share no words between the cuddling and content sighs and various little soft kisses he presses to your forehead.

sunghoon

with sunghoon gOSH

whatever you two get up to, it’d be so so soft and gentle and perfect and just ):

he would always ask the members what to take you out on as a date and you bet his naver search history would consist of questions like ‘what does my s/o like’ and ‘where should i take out my partner on a date’ lmao

he just wants to make you happy and comfy ):

dates with him are usually really cute!! Like going to cafes, going ice skating etc!

But you’d also love those dates at home with him, giggling shyly as you both sit together and watch a film 🥺

he LOVES those dates! he always gets so shy whenever he comes over and it takes him a little while to get comfortable enough with you to even hold your hand pls

So when he one day pulls you in closer from where you’re sitting side by side on the couch,, bringing you closer and tucking you under his arm ??

You’re so so surprised, and you feel your heart clench a little at how gentle he is with you and how he’s finally opening up ):

And from then on,, he only will become more and more comfortable with you!!! To the point where he’ll start pouting a lil when you don’t snuggle up next to him on the sofa like you usually do );

So cuddle dates with hoon? Yes you bet they’re his fave!!

and then when its quickly approaching your 100 days anniversary, he’ll be wracking his brains for so long trying to decide what to do for you

but then it will hit him like a light bulb switching on!

he’ll suddenly remember you mentioning this specific thing that you really liked and would want to do one day, and guess what he would plan for u both!!

he’d prepare 💔💔 a picnic 💔💔 for you 💔💔

ugh youre so lucky

he’d text you the day before your anniversary telling you to expect to go on a date with him the day after and to dress up prettily :D

he’d wake up super early on the day of the date, preparing all of your favourite foods and meals into a cute lil basket ):

and when you finally both meet at a really rEALLY pretty secluded area that you somehow had no idea existed despite you living in the area for so long - you’d maybe start tearing up??

because your boyfriend is so so sweet and you never saw this coming from him at all ):

and he’d just stand there shyly in front of the picnic he set up, hand at the back of his head and looking down; cute lil blush tainting his cheeks from how nervous he is!

but then you’d run over and give him a big, big hug, exxclaiming how much you appreciate what he did for you and how youre so so incredibly sorry for not bringing him something as well to celebrate your anniversary (you were dying inside fo guilt please!! how could u forget to get him something when he went out of his way like this for you )): )

but he’d simply shake his head, smiling and not minding at all

because if he gets to see you happy, gets to see those twinkling eyes of yours that just stare up at him with so so much love before bringing him in for a sweet kiss - then he simply doesnt mind at all.

r u crying at this like i am lol

sunoo

sunoo absoloutely adores you.

and he cant stay away from you !! lmao

you’ll leave after a date and ten minutes after youve arrived you’ll get a text from him saying how much he already misses you and wants to see his bun again ):

but its okay!! because y’all would meet up again really soon again :D

sunoo really doesnt mind what you both do together, he just loves being in your company !! if he’s doing something with you, its certain that he will have so much fun and be so so comfy!

you often like to go to cinemas together, watching a film

film/drama marathons are also something that you both do very very often as a date! he loves it when you hug him tight and throw a leg over his as you both lie down in his dorm bed/your bed, watching something on your laptop

he is very very cuddly and whenever you both do have cuddle dates/sessions (which is all the time btw) he’ll like it when you absentmindedly play with his fingers or stroke your hands through his hair soothingly

and then he’ll complain and whine when you stop lmao

seriously though, without a question if either of you meet at either his dorm or your house - its always: ‘so what are we gonna watch?’

he also likes doing very very cute couple-y activities with you! of course he does,, youre his baby ):

(he’s more YOUR baby actually - but he doesnt need to know about that shh hehe)

funfair dates where you will go on a ferris wheels and eat cotton candy together? sharing a kiss when you reach the top? yes! and so is going to those sets designed for couples to take cute photos together as a lil photoshoot!

he is so so sweet with you ):

and has it been mentioned yet that you’ll go on food dates? this is a very obvious date you both do very often !!

going to food markets and trying out different street foods from different vendors? yes.

having mini dates at the korean convinience store late at night where you’ll both sit by the window and eat tteokbokki & ramen together? yes.

its all honestly really really chill, but he also knows when to be serious when he needs to (:

he’ll take you out to the your favourite restaurants often!

and whenever youre celebrating something he’ll take you to a really good and famous restaurant with mouth-watering food, and you’ll be left wondering for the longest time how on earth he managed to get a seat in since its always so booked

or ordering take-out is good too :D

in conclusion (because i just realised how long this is help 😭): dates with sunoo are always a variety of fun activities which always leave you feeling tired yet so, so happy and content at the end of the day !!

he loves you so much <3

Jungwon

Since you both go to the same school, a lot of your little dates are actually spent there

He’s pretty shy with you at times,, but when you’re both alone it’s then that dates with him are usually so so goofy and silly; days filled with his teasing and your eye rolls and giggles.

Meeting at the rooftop before school to simply talk and giggle and drink chocolate milk? Yes.

Staying after school for small study sessions in the library? Yes.

With jungwon, you’re not able to see him as much between school and him being an idol, so every little moment together means so much to both of you ):

To me jungwon also seems like a cuddler!!! cause like?? Have you seen him ?? Tell me he doesn’t look so soft

So, dates at home when he’s free where you can both cuddle together in your bed while eating and doing homework? They’re so so cosy,, and definitely your favourite kinda dates!! not to mention that your parents absolutely adore him too

With jungwon, lots of lil spontaneous dates are definitely his and yours trademark (‘:

He’ll turn up at your house randomly with a grin and dimple poking at his cheek, holding a bag of convenience store food and asking you if you want to go on a date with him even if it’s 10pm and dark outside lmfao

And then he’ll take you to an arcade!

You’ll be the only ones there and he’s keep flexing about how he’s going to win you this cat plush from the claw machine because he says it looks like him

He’d try several times and end up spending almost 8,000 won on the machine trying to win you this plush and at this point he’s already making up several excuses about how oh, ‘it’s rigged’ or ‘give me one more chance I will get it this time!!’

You’d giggle at how he grows flustered, gently asking him if you could have a go for fun, sighing and with him and agreeing on the fact that the claw machine is definitely rigged

You’d complain together; scolding the machine and asking it to please be nice and stop ruining your date when it’s then that the claw actually picks up a plush and you’re both like ;oo

You’d both stay stood in shock as the cat plush is dropped into the receiving box, before laughing loudly

He’d stand there flustered, blush tainting his cheek before he just walks away 🚶🏻‍♂️

You’d quickly pick up the cat plush and chase after him, giggles tumbling out your lips

and uhm after that you beTTER go check up on your boy and see if his ego wasnt too damaged by that 😤

so of course you’d wrap your arms around him from behind, tucking your face into the back of his neck ): and pressing gentle kisses where you know he’s ticklish until he finally relents, a small grin and dimple lighting up his face

and phEW because you thought he was upset ): but he laughs and says youre better at the claw machine than he is so,, all good dont worry !! 🥺

It’d end up being him taking the cat plush home, which you both name ‘jungwon-two’ because of how much it actually looks like him 😭

Expect many references and inside jokes to that date and jungwon-two in the future

and tbh you love dates with won so so much. theyre so fun plus they’re always secret.

and whenever you’re out doing whatever the hell you both get up to,

It’s like there is no one else in the world. It’s just you, and him, and the blooming you both feel in your chests.

Niki

I don’t know but I can just see niki as being so romantic

You’re both young, and although niki is the biggest dork and always likes to play around and make jokes 24/7 - he’s also so mature compared to the other boys your age

So would he take you out to a date where he’d set up classically romantic candles and rose petals for you both to eat at for your 1 month anniversary? Yes ):

And you’d be so speechless and shocked as you blush quietly and thank him before he‘s accidentally knocking over his glass of water all over the table cloth and you’re laughing out loud

But expect every other date with him to be filled with so so much food and comfort!

He’d feel so comfy around you, and really the only word he thinks is perfectly able to describe you is home. He thinks you feel like home to him.

So he’d show you all of this favourite things, the things closest to his heart and you can’t help but feel your own heart clench at how much you adore this boy

He’d take you out to traditional Japanese restaurants and show you his favourite foods from back home and teach you the customs of how to eat sushi

You’d 100% be so so interested and excited whenever he reveals to you a vulnerable part of him, and he’d stare at you so lovingly as he kisses your cheek, blushing and smiling like the 15 year old he is

Ugh ): niki ):

Dance dates!!

You claim you can’t dance to save your life LMFAO (or maybe you can 😳?) but he only grins shyly instead as he takes you to a small dance studio he rented (he didn’t want to take you the belift building where there would be other people - he’d want you to feel completely comfortable).

You’d simply stand there with your mouth dropped open as you watch him freestyle to a random song he put on like it’s nothing

You’d spend the day getting taught some moves by him and although you’re sure you look like a cat getting electrocuted, he still smiles and nods and even claps, giving you compliments and teasing remarks

Overall, dates with niki are so so fun and goofy and perfect. You feel your heart swell every time he takes you out on another little adventure, feeling so complete and carefree between his warm hugs, jokes and words that he has to say to you

(’:

#enhypen headcanons #enhypen fluff #enhypen reactions #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen fic #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen jake #enhypen ot7 #enhypen sunoo #enhypen heeseung #enhypen jungwon #kpop imagines

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mysticprofessoralienhumanoid · 3 years

Text

A Daminette Penpal AU - Continuation

Continuation of this post

@ab-unreachablevoice @startouchedqueen1318 @lovemidnighteclipse12 you asked, I deliver.

Now, I want all of you to know this AU was made in a spur of moment. I’m totally winging it rn.

So obviously before the akuma class goes to Gotham, the months of texting have to have passed.

For Damian, those months are hell, because not only does he have to hear Jon’s gushing about his awesome penpal, but he has to endure Lila’s lies and her stories that keep only getting more ridiculous as the time passes too.

And it better be fucking worth it, because you have no idea how close he’s to flying to Paris and finally putting his assassin’s skills into use.

I mean, look at this!

Lila: HI Damian!!!! ❤💖💕💋💞

Damian, cringing at his phone: Yes?

Lila: How r u????

Damian, who absolutely hates when someone types like that: Have been better

Lila: Would u like to maybe video chat???? I could tell u about my trip to Achu !!!!!

Damian, a little shit™: Did “u” know that using more than three (3) exclamation (!) and question (?) marks means “u” may have a personality disorder? Maybe that’d explain the amount of lies “u” like to spew so much.

(Oof-)

[Message read. This user is offline.]

I’m convinced that if Damian knew how to use gifs, he would 100% use a lot, and I mean a lot, of cat gifs (honestly, animal gifs in general).

Lila: Hi Dami!!!! (She doesn’t learn, okay.)

Damian: I hope you can understand the message.

She can.

Lila: Hi dami. Can I call u Dami???

Damian: No.

Lila: I had so much fun this weekend Dami!!!! I went to Brazil Turns out Chris Pratt is filming a new movie there. Anyway, he recognized me and we started talking. His so much fun!!!!!! 🥰🤩😍😍🎉🎉

Damian: Fascinating. Please do not tell me more.

Damian: And it’s “he’s”, not “his”.

Heh.

Lila: Hiii Damiii

Damian: I literally hate you so much-

[Message not sent]

Lila: Dami????

Lila: ....

Lila: Um, Damian? U there????

[Message not read]

You have no idea how, much fun making these is-

Oh, and imagine, just imagine, if Lila told him about situation in Paris.

Lila: Sorry for texting you so late, damiboo. Got caught up in an akuma attack.

Damian, who by now is replying just to humor her (plus his father forced him): A what?

And then Lila starts explaining the situation in Paris. Of course, she adds a few stories about how she was akumas’ target or how she helped Chat Noir (weirdly she doesn’t talk much about Ladybug). It’s that one of really rare times she’s not lying (well, not that much). And how Damian reacts to it?

Damian, Done with Lies™: Do you ever stop lying? Because this, all of this, is absolutely and utterly ridiculous.

Cue Lila wishing she didn’t bullshit as much as she did Damian was just a little more gullible

Anyway.

I don’t know if you remember, but in the first part I said Damian ditched Lila for Marinette (but let’s be honest, wouldn’t we all?).

To clear things up, I kinda wanted the GA students to accompany their penpals throughout their time at school. It’d be nice, right?

So the scene is:

The principal has just announced that GA students have to keep company their penpals while they’re at the GA establishment. Lila’s feeling victorious, this is her chance to get her claws in Damian and his money- I mean, to get to know her lovely penpal. Yeah...

Lila, walking up to Damian, while trying to appear sexy and shy at the same time, and failing at both: So, shall we?

Damian, ostentatiously glancing at her before going to Marinette: Bye

Now, to spice things up, I decided imma get them caught up in a rouge attack/attacked by a rouge.

So somewhere a week in their stay, akuma class is held hostage by one of the Gotham’s criminals.

Because this is Gotham, y’all. You can’t be in Gotham and NOT get attacked some way or another. It’s impossible.

[Choose your villain. I have badass Marinette though, so we all know the winner here]

The moment it starts, Damian slips away and changes into Robin.

Meanwhile:

The class is screaming and panicking.

Lila is probably in the middle of a panic attack.

Marinette’s assessing the situation before striking.

The moment Robin arrives, he gets to witness Marinette, the sweet cinnamon roll Marinette, kicking ass and taking names. Adorable. He thinks he’s in love (and he so is).

Bats come. And they’re met with the dude dealt with and trembling in fear of a petite girl with pigtails, who’s standing next to him and a lovestruck Robin staring at said girl.

A sight to behold, truly.

Also, what if Damian accidentally texts Lila instead of Marinette after the attack? And Lila is so happy, because she thinks her plan’s finally working. But ohoho, does Damian have surprise for her.

Damian: Are you sure you’re okay? The attack was really dangerous, You’re sure you’re fine?

Lila, thinking ‘yes, fucking finally. Almost thought you have no feelings’ : Oh, it was so scary !!!!!! 😱😰😨😨😨 [just hella lot of emojis. She seems like that kind to me] I was absolutely terrified!!!! I’m just glad that it’s all over. After the attack Robin came up to check up on me. He even flirted with me, i think he likes me... Too bad I already like someone else 😘😘😘😘😘😘

Lila: But don’t worry, dami!!!! I’m a little shaken up, but overall okay. But if you want to we can facetime so you can make sure I’m not injured ;*

Damian, having to physically restrain himself fro throwing his phone against the wall: ...

Damian: Fuck.

Damian: Wrong number.

Lila: ಠ_ಠ

---------

And of course I’m involving Twitter. Who do you think I am?

At first it was one of of his siblings who posted a post about how he’s seething at his phone, probably his penpal texted him something again.

But do you seriously thing Damian would pass such an amazing opportunity?

Haha.

No.

He immediately posts his follow up and it goes downhill from here. He adds shit ton of tweets about her, making Lila famous (and she doesn’t even know she is).

People don’t know whom to pity more; Damian, for having a horrible and lying penpal, or said penpal, for having an enemy in the Ice Prince of Gotham?

The hashtags #IcePrince’sPenpal #PenpalNightmare #MenaceOfAPenpal are created and are trending every day.

Many say it’s the most active he’s ever been.

---------

Lila is not stupid in this, okay? A pathological liar and a manipulator, yes, but for that you need brain and she has one. Much to Damian’s surprise. And yeah, sometimes she lets her imagination get the best of her, but she’s cautious enough and has proof to often back her up.

She knows she screwed up. Her penpal doesn’t believe her and isn’t scared to call her out.

Due to him bluntly uncovering her lies, some of the classmates see through the blinds she’d put on their eyes and get suspicious of her.

If you have mercy on them, make them come to Marinette and apologize.

...

Yeah, I’m not doing that.

The class sticks to Lila’s version of every story and they don’t believe Damian is THE Damian Wayne, even when a fricking limousine drives up to the school and a butler comes out of it.

---------

Random notes and ideas that don’t really have any sense or anything tbh, but I had them so there you go

About the attack, obviously the school has to inform the parents, right? But, if you're salty enough, you can, oh i don't know, make bustier and/or Damocles not inform them thus creating even more problems for them in the near future. (Yes, i hate bustier and damocles with passion, they’re enablers and Damocles is a gold digger tbh)

One day the french class is at a random restaurant (I’m honestly tempted to put them in Red Robin just for my own entertainment) when the Wayne brothers come in. They recognize them and Lila sees the opportunity, so she goes up to them.

Lila: Hiii Damiii!!!! [Yes, I know this is a real life conversation]

Damian, just done with her: Ugh, not you again.

Tim just kinda glances at her and decides she’s not worth his time.

Jason: What the fuck do you have on your head?

Dick: Oh, Damian, is this your crush or the penpal you despise so much?

Damian: The latter. And i do not have a crush

Lila, who totally stopped listening after she heard “crush”: That’s me!!!!

[Silence]

Damian: Marinette’s over there. Let’s go.

Lila: ;_;

Yeah, it sucks to be Lila.

[I thought I posted this a month ago. I didn’t. What the hell]

#Daminette #damian x marinette #damian wayne #maridami #mlb class salt #lila salt #penpal AU #damian hates lila with burning passion #honestly same #badass marinette #Marinette deserves better #lila ross

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one-real-imonkey · 3 years

Note

Wild anon with far too many ideas is back! Have you seen @thatfunkyopossum's headcanons for the Guard being dumpster divers (post/621942185340846080/coruscant-guard-culture-hcs)? It's so interesting! Does anything similar happen in the Corrie Guard AU? Now I'm just imagining clones organizing furniture / clothing drives for the refugees in the lower levels. Or having a huge system of trade and bartering for supplies / bacta / etc. There's a lot of potential!

Hi anon with so many ideas, I love them all and I'm adding to my answers for all of them, some of which will be fics some will just be notes like this one. Anyway, thank you so much for asking, and here we go...

———

Yeah, my Corrie Guard AU has some very similar things.

Overall, they're opportunistic, and they don't waste things or look down on what they're offered. They get very good at repurposing and fixing things. They don't actually have a lot of oversight, the Senators and nat-born Senate Guard don't care about the Guard barracks or what they do in their free time, so their base and their free time is theirs.

A lot of what they get is donated though. Some of its from the lower levels, started up by people who realised what the Corries were going through and decided to act, and it's often not much, but a pad and some colouring pencils or a homemade meal can go a long way emotionally to show you someone cares. Thanks to Palpy and the Senate, just giving them money isn't easy, not to mention many of the people in the lower levels don't have the money to spare. However, even if they can't be given credits, they can be given other things.

One of the most amazing things the Corries managed to get is access to food from the upper levels. Hound managed to wrangle a deal in which all the day old food that none of the rich snobs would buy because it was 'no longer fresh' from some of the high end patisseries near the base would go to the Guard instead of being thrown away. The Guard noticed all that perfectly good food going to waste and decided it was stupid that the food would be wasted when they didn't have enough. They managed to sort out a few deals like that, and while some of it is a little stale or has a little mould, most of the food is perfectly fine and the Corries are more than happy to have it.

A lot of the items that are donated from people rather than businesses are also things they can use to create things to sell, including toys for kids and pieces of art (and a few tattoo designs or just tattoos (Inky goes down to the lower levels twice a week to do tattoos and their costs are reasonable and fair)). A haberdashery sells their hand made dolls and soft toys in exchange for a small cut and a discount on the cost of the materials. That same haberdashery also gives them all the left over offcuts of materials for them to do with as they wish. They get sewn together or hung off of things and just generally used to spruce up the base.

They Corries do a lot of charity work and give a lot away to help others, if there's been a large accident like a fire or public transport crash or an outbreak of some sort of illness, supplies from the Guard may go 'missing'. They often spend their free time creating things they can donate or sell, especially to people who need them.

They also ended up in weird situations where they do favours for people in exchange for small but weird things. It started with Pup breaking off of a patrol to help a little old lady called Mirka carry some bags she was struggling with, and then she made an off hand comment about how very strong he was and how useless she was at doing things nowadays in her old age and he volunteers to help out. (He doesn't quite believe she's as weak as she claims, but he's not rude enough to doubt her aloud).

Pup was happy to help move some furniture for her, especially when she gave him a whole huge box full of home baked cookies ('Because you young boys deserve it') and then he offered to help again if she needed, and she told her friends about it...

Within a month a great deal of the Corries were going down to do all sorts of things these elderly citizens couldn't manage, and being rewarded with all sorts of things. Sometimes it was credits, sometimes it was food, sometimes it was books or fabrics or hand made clothes (theres a knitting group dedicated to making a jumper for every single Corrie) and sometimes it was even more random things, included but not limited to a day at a spa for 20, 4 gallons of homemade jam, a karaoke machine and a slightly broken but still working hydroponics device for growing plants.

And of course the plotting of conspiratorial little old ladies is never containable, so quickly all sorts of other opportunities are set up for the Corries to earn money without stress or danger, including youth clubs, charity drives and anything else they can 'disguise as work'. It's not like the people on 998 can't use the help but similarly they want to help people. Especially other people the Senate treat like dirt.

Mirka, the little old lady who Pup had first helped, gave him her extensive amount of sewing and knitting equipment, claiming her hands just shook too much nowadays and oh, her eyesight, surely some of your lovely siblings will be able to use them better than little old I. She also gave him her old curtains, which she claimed she no longer needed, along with several blankets and old pieces of clothing and any fabric she could find.

Weave and Loom just about cried when Pup handed them over.

A few weeks later all of those pieces of fabric returned to level 998, either in the form of clothes worn by the Corries so they didn't have to be in their blacks or armour, or as soft toys to sell (or donate) for the little kids.

Weave and Loom finally made their way down to level 998 with several head-scarfs for Mirka as a thank you, which she wears frequently. Her children moved away long ago, her siblings and other family members are gone, she saw her grandchildren maybe twice a year before the wars started, but they live on a Separatist planet, and travel is limited. Its why she started looking out for the Corries and why she roped in a tribe of other grandparents to join her.

Oh no, I'm going to have to do something about level 998 aren't I?

As for trading things to like bacta and supplies, they're selfless. If they get ahold of them, they'll make sure those things go to people who need it. They'd never take the food for themselves when there are children without, they'd never take medical supplies for themselves when there were people who needed it more. They had the Guard's limited amount, they had their own medics, they could make do, but not everyone on the lower levels had the same access, and with the war and Senate forcing things like the Jedi-operated Clinics closed in favour of those supplies and staff going 'where they're needed' every little helps.

Anyway, yeah, the Corries do a lot of scavenging, a lot of repurposing old items, fixing broken things to make them work. Curtains don't always get cut up and made into clothes or toys or other fabric items, sometimes they're put in the med bay to work as dividers, or in the bunk rooms to add privacy for the bunks themselves.

Any item they can give a new lease on life, repurpose, or fix and sell, they do. They fix up the hydroponics device so they can grow some herbs and spices for their food, they create clothes for themselves so they don't just have to live in their armour or blacks, and they spend a lot of time helping people who need it.

———

Thanks for the ask, this was a little longer than I meant it to be, and I kinda went off on a tangent, whoops, but the 998 are becoming a thing, haha. But yeah, long story short, they're incredibly pragmatic about things, will not waste a thing and are utterly selfless.

Inbox is always open. (-:

#i think thats everything #star wars #my corrie guard au #coruscant guard #the corries don't need a dad they need a tribe of babushkas #level 998 #thanks for the ask #all the asks #ill get to them all i swear lmao #my corries build up good relations with people because theyre lovely people #oc clone Inky #oc clone pup #oc clones weave and loom #star wars oc Mirka #anti republic senate #protect the coruscant guard #anon response #anon ask #thanks anon

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rootin-tootin-cum-shootin · 3 years

Text

Dating Headcanons for Aomine and Kagami

In honour of my dear friend Jackie @todorokibois finishing her rewatch of Kuroko no Basket, and the accompanying Ace Brainrot she has as a result, I have made this. Is it stupid long? Yes. Did I have fun making it? Yep! Am I going to have her screaming at me tomorrow? Absolutely! Anyway! Enjoy this monster of a headcanon folks!

Aomine Daiki x gn!reader x Kagami Taiga

Wordcount: 2,540

Kinda an awkward fellow at first

He has the emotional awareness of a brick wall so he's not exactly the most in tune with his or others feelings

It would take quite a bit for him to even realize he has feelings for you

Oh man but once he does?

All those feelings he was denying or ignoring hit him hard and all at once

As if Daiki got hit by a bus (a bus made of feelings)

Once he has acknowledged that he likes you

Well, then he gets a little more awkward

Because he has no real clue what he is doing

He has asked Momoi about what he should do, considering she's the more emotionally aware one of the pair

But her suggestions largely consist of classic and almost stereotypical wooing gestures

So with her generic advice in mind

He will buy you flowers and ask you if you would meet him for coffee at "that one place you say you like"

(Like he totally doesn't remember the exact name, location and your regular order after you mentioned it a couple times)

Once you'd get there he would have your drink already ordered, with a nice snack for you there too

And as you sit down to chat and eat, he would hand you a nice bouquet of your favourite flowers

And ask you if you would like to go on a date with him sometime

If you don’t want to see a flustered Daiki, don't mention how this meetup for coffee could be a date.

He will have steam coming out of his ears, because he will internally malfunction.

Daiki will actually be genuinely suave once he figures out he doesn't need to be so performative all the time

You like him for him, not because he acts like a character from a shojo

Honestly there's nothing he enjoys more in this relationship then getting to see you smile

Listens to you so well, he is always attuned to you.

He will play every gift he gives you off as if he didn't remember you talk about how much you loved that piece jewellery because it reminded you of something a character wore in a few episodes of your favourite childhood cartoon one time 2 months ago

And he definitely didn't pick up extra jobs in order to get the cash to pay for it

No way, it was completely a coincidence.

As you may have guessed, the ever blunt and arrogant Aomine Daiki's love language is gift giving

He just wants to see you smile

And if making or buying you a little trinket just because it reminded him of you will do that then so be it

Daiki would honestly pay any amount of money or spend any amount of time if it meant he could make sure you felt loved

Dates are often spent with the two of you just chilling around the house

Netflix and take out on the couch while you wear your PJs? His favourite way to spend a Friday off

Dates where he tries to make you dinner from scratch? Yes please, he wants to impress you through your taste buds. (Which doesn't always work the way he wants)

But he does love to take you out for lunch or dinner

He will offer to pay for everything anytime you go out

Speaking of paying even if you insist on going Dutch

He is absolutely going to attempt to pay before you can even get your wallet out

It honestly becomes a game for you two to see who can pay for dinner first.

The only time he actually lets you pay on a date if say you're going to be driving some distance for a special date

Then he's chill if you pay for the snacks while he pumps gas on your way to that festival in the next city over you both wanted to attend.

He tries so hard to be a gentleman around you

You make him more humble, and he wants to be the best version of himself possible for you. Because you make him want to put in the effort to better himself.

But all that goes out the window the moment you attend one if his games

Then his usual attitude gets even worse, he becomes an actual monster when he plays on the days you watch

The pride he feels when winks at you as he scores the final basket of the games.

Its subtle but its his way of saying "See that babe? That was for you"

This man also lives for post games smooches

His team hates it (they're jealous because you two are so damn cute)

But he will always press his forehead to yours, and ask breathlessly if he can kiss you

Once you say yes, he leans in slow and with a ghost of an I love you resting on his tongue shows you just how he feels

His hands steady on your waist, holding you close as his lips press against yours and takes your breath away. The way you some how always manage to take his away every time he looks at you

When he pulls away for a breath, your noses touching, your lips still millimeters apart, he will tell you that he loves you

All in all, he may not know exactly what he's doing, but man is Aomine Daiki in deep. He wants nothing more than to be the light in your life that you've become for him. Please take care of this Ace's heart, he's trying his best for you.

Taiga is genuinely intense when he likes you

To the point where the moment he knows he likes you, you know too

Now to other people they may think its embarrassing, but he honestly doesn't care

Once Taiga's sure of his feelings for you the man could care less if other people knew

Because why should he hide away how he feels for the sake of other people

Arm wrapped around your shoulder as you walk beside him

Always offering to help you out even if it makes him go far out of his way

Actually telling you straight to your face that he's doing all these things because he has feelings for you and wants you to reciprocate them

Taiga really can be a tactless dumbass sometimes but, hey at least its cute how he's trying to woo you

He wouldn't immediately ask you out though

No he saves that for when he's sure you reciprocate those feelings

Because let's face it, if Taiga likes you, you're most likely already his friend

So when he attempts to pursue you romantically, it is literally everything you could want

He'd honestly know just how to not only fulfill the things he knows you want and even daydreamer about having in a partner while still making it genuine to who he is as a person

Now his love language is absolutely Quality time

So when you two are hanging out together, you have his undivided attention

Taiga honestly would schedule time in his training regiment's schedule when he's preparing for tournaments

Even if its just a 30 minute phone call

He sticks to it

And when you do start dating, he ensures that you go out on a date once every two weeks, minimum

Stay in dates are accepted and appreciated

In fact it was on one of those stay in dates where he asked you to be his significant other

He also texts you quite a bit

Even if its just to say "I know you're busy but make sure you remember to stay hydrated"

Or to send you a cute picture of #2

When you do go out, its usually to do some fun or spontaneous event

A pottery class? Sure why not

Rock climbing at a gym? Let's try it out, maybe you'll even catch each other falling so you can make a corny ass joke

A Tango class? Why not! It could even help with his footwork in basketball

Taiga just wants to spend time with you so he s down to try anything you want at least once

So as long as you're excited for it he'd be happy to accompany you

Even if its just to go get groceries.

He's not terribly jealous by himself, but sometimes if you're out on a date and he's feeling like he hasn't seen you enough in recent weeks

He might steal your attention back from whomever you were speaking with.

Will take you to professional level basketball games

Heck one time you two went to see the Harlem Globetrotters and it was one of the best nights of his life

The both of you were amazed by the tricks and laughing along with the jokes.

You both even got a signed ball after one of trick shots ricocheted off the rim of the basket hit him on the head.

You two have a custody agreement for that ball by the way

But hey that was the risk of sitting court side, and at least it was a great memory

By the time you two left the gym, your cheeks hurt from smiling so widely

And as you two discussed the event as you walked back to his car, the streetlights hitting your face just right

In that moment he realized that he was absolutely and intensely in love with you.

It was honestly really sweet. But did he tell you how he was feeling? N o p e

But speaking of basketball

You are invited to every single one of his games

He wouldn't be mad if you couldn't come to every one, but he hopes that you would come support him at his big tournament games

On the days you go, he plays about 1000 times better

Riko loves those days because he listens to her and the Hyuga when they propose strategies without complaint

She especially likes it because he never loses when you show up

Yes she does ask you to go to every game and practice Seirin has.

And after every game, he takes you out for dinner. Even if its just at a 24 hour fast food joint. You two share a meal after each and every game you attend

He honestly looks forward to those times more than the actual games sometimes

Taiga isn't the type for extreme PDA but you bet your ass he loves to kiss you

No matter where you are, if you’re out together, he's giving you kisses

His hands resting on your cheeks, delicately stroking your skin with his thumbs

As he tenderly presses his lips to yours, passion and adoration oozing from his kiss

Because even though he has a hard time saying how much he loves you

The emotions he can't quite find the right words to say all come through with every press of his lips against your skin

All in all, dating Taiga would be fantastic, he's caring, considerate and always confident in both you and the relationship.

Now let's start off by saying Taiga becomes so much more jealous when he realizes Daiki is also pursuing you

The pair immediately turn it into a competition

If one of them buys you lunch, the next day the other is taking you for an expensive dinner

Taiga asking you to go to one of his games again? Sorry Daiki already asked you to go to his on that day

Daiki asking if you wanted to watch a movie at his place? Nope! Taiga bought & gifted you tickets for the concert your favourite band was putting on and had asked you to go with him months ago

Lord help you if they're playing against each other

Both will show off to the point its detrimental to their teams

You thought they were intense before? HAH! The tension between them is almost crushingly heavy now

(There's a reason for that) They bet that whoever won would be the only one to take you out for a month and the other person can't even ask.

Yes that bet is dumb

Yes their coaches kicked their asses for how they're behaving

After that they realize that maybe they shouldn't fight over you like you were a prize to be won

Because they both notice how much seeing each other fight like that hurts not just their relationships with you

But how it hurts, you in general

So with heavy and begrudging hearts they set their romantic rivalry aside

And come to you hearts in their hands and ask you if you'd give them both a chance

Because they recognize that at this point, if you haven't picked one of them

You probably aren't going to choose just one of them

And they would be damned if you chose to just walk away because of how they were acting

So after some explanations of their jealousy towards the other boy on their parts

And you willing to forgive their weirdness

You are now the happy owner of not one puppy of an Ace as a boyfriend.

But two doting Ace boyfriends!

Their individual relationships with you are mostly the same as above

But there are a few throuple dates, where you all go do something together

Heck sometimes the boys will do something without you and have little boys dates

By god can they be protective of you

Creepy old man staring at you? Taiga and Daiki are already glaring at him like nobody's business

Getting hit on and are uncomfortable? Daiki is dragging the person outside to beat the shit out of them while Taiga makes sure you're okay and feeling safe

They actually make a great team in terms of the relationship. Working in tandem to make sure you're happy, healthy, safe and feeling loved

The cuddle piles you find yourself in, are exquisite

Your back smooshed against Taiga's chest and Daiki's head resting on the top of your head while he holds you tightly

Who needs a blanket anymore? Certainly not you my dear, you have two very hot Aces to keep you warm now!

And you bet your ass those two will eventually end up kissing each other

Because well their competitive spirit towards each other never truly went away

Now their competitions look more like "who can kiss our significant other more"

(BTW the score for that one is Daiki III Taiga II, because Taiga fell asleep 3 hours before you and Daiki did the last time they played that game. Taiga still hasn't forgiven his brain for that)

The boys eventually come to terms with the fact that they think the other is hot, and sometimes (ie. Most times) they want to kiss.

They will absolutely deny it if asked by anyone but you. Because they don't mind you seeing them smooch, because then you may join them in the makeout session.

They may say they're as straight as an arrow, but every arrow has some flexibility to it under the right circumstances.

All in all its actually a really healthy poly relationship, once they get their heads out of their own butts that is

#aomine daiki #aomine x reader #aomine x kagami #kagami taiga #kagami x reader #knb #knb headcanons #kuroko no basket #mutuals #attacking my mutuals

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triscribe · 3 years

Text

Swing Batter Batter

Part of a larger fic posted on AO3 over here, in which token metahuman abilities are pretty common, and it’s not unusual to encounter a circus kid who can fly, or a cop who gets impressions of a person’s intentions when shaking their hand, or in this case, a street thief with super strength.

-Swing-

When he registered the Bat standing over him, Jason didn’t think, he just grabbed and swung as hard as he could. If he’d been a regular scrawny street kid, he didn’t doubt the tire iron would just bounce off with barely a bruise to show for the effort. But Jason stopped counting as ‘regular’ last year, and his skinny arms were plenty strong enough to land a blow that knocked the Bat clear off his feet.

Jason then promptly ran for his life.

He made it to the end of the alley and swerved first around the corner, and again into the narrow gap between wall and dumpster. There he froze, heart pounding, hands shaking, as he waited for either Batman’s footsteps to go past his hiding place like so many others, or for one of those big hands to grab his hoodie and yank him out into the open.

...a couple minutes of nothing went by.

...and then a few more.

Jason’s heart kept pounding at breakneck speed, but shifted from running on adrenaline to fear. He eased himself back out from behind the dumpster, and peeked around the alley corner. Just to double check; maybe the Bat decided to chase him from above, and that fourth tire could be retrieved after all-

Except two thick-soled boots were laying next to the fancy car.

Shit.

He’d killed the Bat.

Shit shit shit - every crook in Gotham would be out for Jason’s blood, looking to curbstomp the little pest trying to make a name for himself. Or worse, someone nuts would show up like the effing Joker in order to get revenge over not getting to off the Bat himself-

One boot shifted. A deep voice wheezed. Jason nearly fell over in relief.

And then, because the Bat didn’t move again, and because Jason was an idiot of the worst kind, he edged his way back towards the car and the crimefighter lying prone beside it. “Uh. Batman? You gonna be okay?”

Another wheeze. Jason got close enough to peek around the car’s fender, and saw the man just staring upwards through the narrowed lenses of his mask. It took a second, but the Bat could apparently tell when he was being watched, because he tilted his head and the lenses opened up a little more so he could stare back. “...’f Robin were here,” the man grumbled, “He’d ask, if you swing for the Knights...”

Jason’s face spasmed as he tried not to laugh. “Nope. Maybe when I’m older, if they pay good.”

Batman snorted, and then wheezed again, one hand starting to grab for his stomach only to stop and clench into a fist. “Got the same spot, as Killer Croc, two nights ago.”

At that, Jason winced. He’d only ever seen Croc in newspaper pictures before, but the guy was definitely huge, and it didn’t take a leap of logic to assume he hit hard, too. “Uh. Sorry?”

The Bat gave an aborted huff. Slowly, he pushed himself up, palms flat to the ground. Then he rolled, to pull one knee underneath himself, and gradually stood while leaning against the car. Jason made sure to keep out of arm’s reach.

After that, the man just braced himself and breathed for a minute, before shifting enough to once again peer down at Jason. “I assume you took the tires to sell.”

He nodded.

“How much?”

Jason lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Depends on which chop shop I take ‘em to. At least a hundred apiece, maybe a bonus if I get all four.” That probably wouldn’t be an option, seeing as he’d wasted enough time for the Bat to get back to his feet. Honestly, Jason needed to run at this point, but he still felt kinda bad. Batman was just about the only good thing in Gotham as far as working folks were concerned, and even if he wasn’t dead, it didn’t seem right to leave him alone and hurting in Crime Alley...

Jason blinked when a roll of green suddenly appeared in front of his face. “Five hundred,” Batman said dryly, “If you bring back the other three.”

Well hot damn.

In the space of twenty minutes, Jason not only brought back the tires he’d spirited off, he went ahead and put ‘em back on the car, just ‘cause the Bat didn’t seem inclined to bend and use his stomach muscles any time soon. And besides, five hundred dollars. That would be food and rent and even new clothes when the weather turned cold.

As he worked, though, Jason couldn’t help but feel Batman’s gaze on him. It didn’t seem angry, didn’t raise the hairs on the back of his neck like when certain guys leered, but he still started to feel just the slightest bit antsy. And then, right as he was tightening up the bolts on the final tire, the Bat made his move. “You don’t want to go into foster care, do you.”

Jason scoffed at that.

“Have you been flagged as a meta?”

“‘Course not, never told anyone. Didn’t get strong until after I was on my own, and I’m not stupid enough to put a target on my back to get ‘recruited’ by any of the gangs.”

The Bat hummed.

-Swing-

Jason Peter Todd-Wayne

Date of Birth: August 16th, 1996

No Known Meta Abilities

“Man, rich people get away with anything,” Jason huffed. “Park wherever you want, buy shit you’re not s’posed to have, falsify your paperwork...”

Bruce just grunted, but it was an agreeable sound rather than an annoyed one. And, privately, Jason couldn’t help but feel pleased by the adoption paperwork, his brand new name right at the top of the page.

Which just left the matter of deciding on his other name.

When Bruce had found the pages torn out of a notebook with costume designs sketched out and messy notes in the margins, he’d glanced at Jason out of the corner of his eye and haltingly said he could be the new Robin. And part of Jason felt thrilled by the idea, but-

But.

Robin flew. He soared around skyscrapers, did somersaults mid-air, zipped along just above the ground to take crooks out at the knees. Jason didn’t do that - Jason couldn’t do any of that. The closest he’d ever get to flight would be grappling from perch to perch like Batman did. Which, admittedly, was really insanely awesome, but still.

Jason couldn’t be Robin.

-Swing-

...at least, not until he sat on the Manor roof one evening a few weeks later with Dick Grayson, who sighed and smiled at him. “You could wear them, y’know. My colors. My suit.”

“But- our powers-”

“Are different,” Dick agreed, “But that just means we bring different strengths to the playing field. Literal strength, in your case.” He grinned and ruffled Jason’s hair.

Batting away the playful fingers, Jason took a few moments to consider it. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. I will.”

(Dick still argued viciously with Bruce in nine out of ten conversations. But every so often he’d come by to pick up Jason, and they’d go flying over the forested property, or drive into the city to get ice cream, or a dozen other things Dick very firmly insisted on referring to as Civilian Brotherly Bonding Activities. And a couple years later, when Jason started having his own problems with Bruce, and found his birth certificate in an old box with a different woman’s name listed as his mother-

Well.

He knew just who to go to with it.)

#Jason Todd #bruce wayne #dick grayson #batman au #fan fiction #fix-it fic #metahuman au #DC comics

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beelspillowpet · 3 years

Note

could i get some hcs of the brothers (how many is up to you!!) with an epileptic MC? like, they end up having absence and myoclonic seizures, and maybe hurt themselves a bit? sorry if this is too specific adjkd it just happened to me this morning and. i accidentally flung my spoon across the room while eating cereal 🙈 i also stabbed myself in the eye with my thumb but Eh

OMG Anon!!! I hope you’re okay!? Seizures are really serious and dangerous, I hope you’re recovering alright?! Sending you a bunch of hugs and head pats u-u In other somewhat unrelated news, I’m glad people are so comfortable coming to me with these sorts of HCs. Means I really am doing an impactful job in my research and writing these sorts of things comfort you. It also helps me learn a little more about people's everyday struggles. Here’s to hoping for a bright future for you all!

I tried to include more symptoms and types of seizures (?) in this post, but I don’t think I was able to touch on them all? Usually when I do HCs like this, I have something like an “interview” with the asker beforehand to make sure I’m getting their experience probably, and a better understanding of the disorders. I hope this is portrayed properly!!! ~

Lucifer

He’s lecturing you, but pauses for a moment to question your reasoning for making pacts with his brothers. He’s expecting you to answer, but you don’t. You simply daze off at him. You weren’t trying to piss him off, but you weren’t all there in the moment. Your hands twitched and your hand accidently shot up behind you, as if you were pulling your hand away from a snapping dog. He took that as a warning.

The second time it occurred was over dinner. It was just you and him, enjoying the meal you prepared for dinner and waited for him to arrive home for it. You had another epileptic seizure, and spaced out for longer than normal.

When you came to, Lucifer was out of his chair at your side, checking to make sure you were alright. He was a bit rattled to say the least, but when he waved his hand in front of your eyes and they followed, he started to relax a bit more. He questioned what just happened, but with the slot of time missing in your brain, you couldn’t completely answer him.

It’s when you start jerking your body about uncontrollably, as if something is possessing you to behave in such a manner than he finally looks into it. Admittedly, he should have done so sooner, this isn’t normal behavior after all. What he discovers is a bit upsetting, as there’s no “cure” or “fix” for it. He doesn’t bring it up to you- you’re probably sensitive about the topic. But he’s far more patient with you now, knowing that these seizures are just a part of your life.

Mammon

Oh what the fuck was that? Are ya’ good? You just kinda... slapped the fuck out of yourself there? Why’d you do that?

This pea-brain probably doesn’t pick up on too many symptoms at first. You’re just his weird, hopeless human. While that’s nice, a little more attention would be grateful.

“Hey Mammon, when did you dye your hair yellow?” “What’re ya talkin’ about? My hair is white.” “Huh, in this light it looks yellow. And did you get a tan?” He thinks you’re weird but it’s okay. It sort of offends you that he thinks this way, it’s not like you’re doing this on purpose. You genuinely thought he dyed his hair yellow- and that he darkened his skin.

There are also times when he uses the same cologne but something smells different about it. The whiplash of suddenly having one smell and then be overwhelmed by something entirely different, or have this random dizziness... well, at least Mammon is always there to catch you if you lose your balance. As much of an airhead as he is, he’s still a helpful and supportive one.

Leviathan

Your seizures scare the shit out of them. You have the worst ones with him because while in his room, the bright flashing lights are somehow worse. Brighter, even more than before, and before you know it you’re having an out of body experience, feeling your body twitch and tremor, but unable to stop it.

You can hear Leviathan freaking out in the distance, making sure you lay down flat and keep you from swallowing your own tongue. Despite having a panic attack after the fact, he’s relatively calm for the most part. He doesn’t have any real knowledge on these things yet, and he’s not sure if he’s prepared for it.

Other times you may just pace the floor as if thinking. You’re constantly rubbing your hands together, looking left and right erratically. Sometimes when you do this, you’re muttering nonsense, and other times, you’re silent. Leviathan isn’t sure which one is scarier.

He does research on why you behave this way sometimes. You don’t have them too often, but it’s happened at least three times and it’s scared him each time. When he discovers his solution, he tries to bring it up with you in a calm and quiet manner. Either that or he waits until next time because bringing it up unprompted can be awkward.

Satan

Oh. He knows what’s going on. He’s got doctor friends. He sort of just... asks. Just to be sure. Whether you tell him or not, he knows what’s really going on here. He won’t judge. Obviously not. You can’t control your behavior with those sorts of things.

He’s aware that seizures can kick up anywhere, so he watches you carefully. You could have one while walking down the steps and end up falling and hurting yourself. You could get one while preparing dinner and accidently stab yourself- or you can even get one while driving. He’s always prepared to take over for you when you need it.

There was one time you finally did come to him. To confide in him about your problems. It was silly, you thought. Why would he listen? Except he set aside his book, turned in his chair to you, and listened. He never interrupted, and only spoke when you were taking a moment to breathe through your tears.

He was there for you, and he would never try to upset you. He knows how scary these sorts of things can be. While he doesn’t struggle with the same issues, having depressive episodes are not lost on him. He would gladly welcome you into his arms for a hug, and make sure you’re at least safe in these awful times.

Asmodeus

You and Asmo were at the club when it happened. You’re dancing with each other one moment, and the next you’re on the floor convulsing. You were embarrassed once it was all over, but imagine how terrified Asmo was???

You come back to yourself still on the dirty floor of the club, but now people are surrounding you, all concerned. You see Asmodeus crying, not knowing what to do. He’s panicked, and he’s gently holding your hand, hoping you’re okay.

You two leave the club early, and in your guilt, explain to him what happened. Although you’re vague because you aren’t entirely sure of the details, he puts together enough to know it won’t be the last time that happens.

he clings to you afterwards, and doesn’t let go. Even if you involuntarily jerk and hit him by accident. He knows. He understands and he loves you, darling. You would never want to push him away, and he would never want you to go. Next time, he WILL do better for you.

Beelzebub

You two were playing sports together when he accidently tackled you too hard. You fell over and hit your head hard, causing you to fall into a shock-induced seizure.

He kneels there by your side crying. He knows what to do but every time he touches you, you jerk violently. As if you’re afraid of his touch, afraid of him making things worse. Still, he does his best to assist you, making sure you don’t swallow your tongue and that you don’t harm yourself any further.

Once it’s all over, he carries you to the benches and gives you food and water. He’s still crying a bit, not sure what he should do now. He probably calls Lucifer for help, and while waiting, just talks to you. Makes sure you’re still all there.

When he’s alone, he does a bit more research on seizures and comes across epilepsy. After going over what can cause the seizures, he’s riddled with even more guilt. You hit your head when he tackled you. He probably caused that seizure, didn’t he? From then on, he refuses to play sports with you. He could never forgive himself for putting you through that.

Belphegor

Of course it was a nap. What else would it be? You wake him up on accident when you kick your leg out too hard, knocking him off the bed. When he gets up to yell at you for doing that, he notices you aren’t really paying much attention to him. Instead you’re twitching your arms and legs, grunting and groaning at the pain in your limbs when you slap against the bedpost.

You’re blinking rapidly and your lips are moving, as if you’re trying to ask him for help. All that manages to come out is something similar to your lips smacking. Like Beel when he’s taste testing his dinner.

Once the seizure is over, Belphie is sitting you up slowly, petting your hand. He brings you into a hug as you tremble in his arms, whispering that its okay and that he’s here now.

He’d never experienced something so... unsettling in his life. He wonders if humans do this sometimes. Sometimes after... traumatic experiences. He cringes at the thought. Could he have caused this unintentionally? He didn’t think that the one time he snapped, he would leave you with irreversible damage. He tries to be diligent in helping you from there on, doing his thorough research and making sure you are taken care of in all ways possible should these continue, or get worse. To him, it’s more than a reason to redeem himself, it’s just doing what’s right.

#obey me #obey me swd #om!#om! swd #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor

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chuckbass-love · 3 years

Note

Johnny storm fic rec where he had a daughter young and even though he is an arrogant fuckboy he’s a really great father

Hi lovely. First of all, thank you for the request, i love it and second of all, i’m so sorry for the long wait. I’ll be saying this to everyone who has requested because i’ve been terrible with writing.

Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Pairing: Johnny Storm x Fem!Reader

Warning: None, all cute and fluffy. Soft Johnny.

Word Count: 1,481

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @pantherclawz go check them out❤️

My World

First things first, you’re not the usual type that even drives past bars like these let alone stepping a single foot in one and secondly, you’re not the type to talk to a stranger at a bar like this and yet here you are.

Sat next to said stranger, drink in hand and 10 minutes deep into a conversation but soon enough you get bored. It’s blatantly obvious that he’s a fuck boy, after sex or any kind of fooling around. And to say you’re opposed would be an understatement. You don’t do that. You actually prefer to get to know the person before any kind of intimacy takes place.

He continues to go on about his plans for the rest of the night before turning to you “so, fancy joining me?” he asks, a hint of optimism in his voice and what he will never admit to anyone right now is that he just wants the company. He knows all about the reputation his name holds but he’s not after anything like that. As much as it comes across like he sleeps with anything that has a pulse, it’s not entirely true. He too likes to get to know the other person before jumping into bed with them.

But you made a snap judgment, something you tend to do quite a lot.

“Um, yeah. i’ll pass” you turn your head away, rolling your eyes and trying to catch the bar mans attention so that you can order another drink but the mystery dude speaks up again “did i do something wrong?” and you’re back to looking at him again.

You’re quick to defend yourself, stuttering over your words “y-yes, i mean n-no. No, you didn’t. I’m sorry”

“Sure seems like it” he chuckles nervously and silence falls upon the two of you, an awkward one at that.

The bar man brings you your drink and you flash him a smile which he reciprocates, he can probably sense the tension.

Since you’re not talking to this stranger, he takes this as his opportunity to pull his phone out, his lock screen photo appearing and catching your attention. And once you see it, you’re instantly intrigued. It’s a photo of him with a little girl, she must be around 5 at least.

It couldn’t be... could it?

“Who’s that?” your voice makes him jump a little before he sighs “it’s my daughter” his muttering is more than enough of an indication that he really just doesn’t want to talk to you. Maybe you were too much of a bitch to him.

“Look, about before, i’m sorry. I really am i just got the impression that you were after sex”

“You assume the worst a lot then?”

“Yeah it’s kinda my deal, but i’m sorry”

More silence falls upon you both and you have no idea why. Maybe your apology hasn’t been accepted which is understandable. You finish the rest of your drink before checking the time on your watch, it’s getting kind of late now so you should definitely get home.

The only reason you came here in the first place was because you broke up with your boyfriend. It destroyed you to even say those words to him but you just weren’t in it anymore. You fell out of love and this was the only place you could think of that wouldn’t involve you bumping into someone you already know.

“How much for the drinks?” you ask and the bar man stalks over to your spot “2 shots of tequila and 2 vodka sodas. That’ll be 35″ he winks and you rummage through your purse to find the money before eventually sliding it over to him and putting your coat back on.

But before you can leave, the guy speaks up.

“For the record, i wasn’t after sex and i accept your apology”

That alone makes you smile and soon after he turns around to face you again.

“I was talking to you because you seemed down. I was hoping to maybe cheer you up and maybe get a kiss along the way” he smirks, chuckling to himself about his joke.

“You really know how to change someones perception don’t you” you giggle, taking your seat next to him again “i’m Y/N by the way” you hold your hand out to shake his.

“Johnny” he takes your hand in his, shaking it and somehow causing shivers to run down your spine.

“So how old is your daughter?” you scoot a little closer and he turns his phone on to give you another glimpse at her “5. Yeah i was young when i had her. Her mom and i split up shortly after, it was mutual and i guess it made us better parents”

“Really how so?”

“Well we certainly don’t argue anymore that’s for sure”

“How was it, having a daughter so young” you enquire

“It was hard, i’ll admit. But she’s my world, i wouldn’t give her up or change her for anything”

You can’t believe this, you had him all wrong. You go to ask him more about her but he beats you to it.

“Anyway, enough about me, what about you, what brought a gorgeous girl like you here all alone tonight?”

“Fresh off a breakup and so i decided drowning my sorrows and guilt here would be a great decision” and somehow the compliment catches you off guard but you cover it.

“Well, whatever it is try not to feel bad. I’m sure he’ll heal and if you weren’t happy then you did what was best”

“Quite the advice giver aren’t you?”

A smug look appears as he agrees without even so much as a second to hesitate “i am indeed”

All of a sudden his phone lights up with the name Eva appearing.

“Hey”

“Yeah sure, i got time, is she okay?”

“Put her on the phone”

“Lily honey, why aren’t you asleep?” he asks, different pitch in his voice and now it’s obvious he’s talking to his daughter.

“Well, what would help you sleep?”

“Daddy? Um, is mommy okay with this?”

A loud laugh escapes his mouth as you watch him happily, he seems so fulfilled with being a dad. Like it’s second nature to him to take care of his daughter and put her needs before his own. The definition of a great dad.

“Okay, i’ll be there soon sweetie okay?”

“Okay, i love you too”

He hangs up the phone, a huge grin plastered across his face “sorry about that”

“No, don’t apologise. Was that your daughter?”

“Lily? Yeah. She can’t sleep and has pretty much demanded i go over to read her a story so i better get going” he takes out some money to hand the bar man before slipping his leather jacket back on and standing up. You do the same following him out of the bar and into the street to hail a cab.

“It was really nice meeting you by the way” he stops as a cab pulls up next to the pavement and he opens the door for you “yeah, it was nice meeting you too. Short but sweet” you say, unsure of whether or not a hug or a kiss would be appropriate right now.

After the events of the last hour, you gotta say you’d love to see him again.

Before you can even make that decision though, he leans in, his lips touching yours ever so slightly. Enough for it to be a kiss but you can see he’s holding back so you close the gap between you and place your hands either side of his face to deepen it.

Somehow you get the feeling that you were supposed to meet him, even if you only spoke to him for an hour. It was enough to make you feel good and take your mind off of your current situation.

Plus it’s not often you’re wrong about people and he totally took you by surprise.

Once you pull away and open your eyes, he’s even more smiley than he was previously.

“Do you mind if i get your number?” he scratches the back of his head nervously and it causes butterflies to form in your stomach “sure”

After giving it to him you get into the cab and he shuts the door before leaning into the window “see you soon then”

“See you soon, Johnny”

Yeah you were more than wrong about him.

-------------------

General Tags: @deadlymistress24 @coffeebooksandfandom @chris-butt @holtzkinnon @mychemicalimagines @llamadelreyx @haus-of-bitch-talk @buckstaybucky @thewinchestergirl1208 @chrissquares @patzammit @dummiesshort @cevans-fics @americasass91 @toni9 @aaliferous @bradfordmyworld @thereisa8ella @kaminorogers @yassspose @randomsevans

Just Chris & His Characters Tags: @onetwo3000 @persephonequeenofthedead @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @rynabarnesrogers @stxvercgersslut @chris-evanslover @bval-1 @thejemersoninferno @denisemarieangelina @janeyboo @evansphnx12 @whxre4cevans

LMK if you wanna be added to my tag list...

#johnny storm #johnny storm fluff #fantastic four #chris evans #chris evans fluff #johnny storm x reader #x reader #reader inserts #fanfiction #fluff #requests #johnny storm x fem!reader #johnny storm x female reader

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