#this movie is one of those interests of mine that drifts away for a while but the second I watch it it’s all I consume for the next week

[satyrbitez]

To the few people that still enjoy tbol on this site,

Take this as my contribution

#chann draws #the book of life #tbol #the book of life manolo #the book of life maria #I am several years late to the party I know #but literally all that’s been on my mind for the past month has been splatoon and tbol #this movie is one of those interests of mine that drifts away for a while but the second I watch it it’s all I consume for the next week #maybe month #anyways enough about me #take this idk if anyone has done it #ignore that the anatomy is bad lol

[angryinternetduck]

oh to stay

About 4,900 words on cold beds, waltzing butterflies, and stupid rules. Harry doesn’t do relationships, neither do you; he’s a coward (but not really), and you are too. Lots of crumby bread puns. Alcohol consumption and mentions of cheating. Friends with benefits to lovers. Enjoy!

The bed’s cold.

You shouldn’t be surprised, not really.

But part of you was hoping.

You started hoping a lot recently, you notice, and it’s kind of becoming a problem. You and Harry are friends. With benefits, of course, but friends don’t cuddle. Friends don’t wake each other up with kisses and giggles, and friends don’t spend sleepy mornings in bed with each other.

You’re comfortable under the duvet, if you’re honest, if not a little lonely. You curl into yourself, wishing despite everything you had a warm body to lay with, and close your eyes. Harry’s behind your eyelids, of course, all dimples and green eyes and soft kisses, and you open your eyes again.

Mornings are interesting. They come with a bit of regret, a touch of satisfaction, and a shitload of loneliness. And the bed’s cold. It’s always cold. He’s never there. He wakes up early and runs, or works, or does yoga.

He’s so good at leaving, at being gone before you open your eyes, that you sometimes wonder if he even sleeps with you at all. Sometimes, you think he waits until you’re dead asleep and then runs to his own room.

Then you wake up in the middle of the night with his arms around you and realize he’s just an early riser. Despite yourself, those are the moments you love best. There’s something calming about being in his arms, about feeling his chest rise and fall behind you, about feeling his hand under yours.

It’s a shame neither of you do relationships.

It takes a while, but you get out of bed eventually. You eye one of his discarded shirts on the floor, tempted to break one of the rules, and then decide against it and pull on your clothes from the night before.

The floor’s cold beneath your feet. It’s hardwood, freezing, and you regret not wearing socks before remembering you wore heels last night, without socks. You scowl. They were uncomfortable. You’d only worn them because you’d gone out, hoping to get laid, hoping to get your mind off of him.

Him, who’d called you, whose bed you ended up waking up in.

Did a great job getting your mind off of him, huh.

He’s standing at the stove, flipping an egg. An image flashes through your head of creeping up behind him, hugging him from behind, feeling his warmth, kissing his cheek, his neck, him spinning around and kissing you back and dancing with you and -

He turns around. Smiles. “Morning,” he says.

You swallow thickly and smile back. “Morning.”

“Sleep well?” His smile tugs into a smirk, and you sigh. He asks that every morning. You were so flustered that first time, stumbling over your words, completely at a loss, and he’d asked that. You’d frozen, stared at him, eyes wide…

Then you’d fainted.

He was so nice about it, too, which almost makes it worse. If he’d been a prick, if he’d just dropped you and never spoke to you again, it would’ve been easier. But no, he just acted like the perfect gentleman he was.

He just gently woke you up, made sure you were okay, gave you water. Laughed when you apologized. Said it wasn’t your fault he was such a damn charmer, said he’d love to make you faint again, as long as you did it closer so he could catch you in his arms.

Now, you sigh and sit at the island and answer, “Never better,” like every morning.

He slides an egg on your plate without you asking. It’s just how you like it, and a flash of irrational anger surges through you. “Look nice,” he says quietly, and you look up. His back is towards you. Coward.

“Thanks,” you say.

“Out last night?”

You bite your lip, sliding your egg around your plate. “Yeah,” you say.

He turns back around and comes around the island. Sits down. “Anything interesting?”

You look up at him, send him a smirk of your own. “I’d call last night interesting,” you purr, and he laughs. “Fuckin’ hell. I meant before that, genius.” You put your elbow on the island, prop your head in your hand. “Hm. No.”

“Not a thing?”

“What, jealous?” you ask, wiggling your brows.

He scoffs. “Of what?”

You shrug, looking down at your plate. “You know. All the beautiful boys I’m picking up.”

“You mean… me?”

“Oh, please,” you say, laughing despite yourself.

There’s a beat of silence, and you feel his gaze on you. It takes more self-control than you’d like to admit to keep your gaze on your plate for only a few seconds, and then you look up. He’s looking at you, all right, green eyes intense, bottom lip between his teeth.

And he’s totally unabashed when you catch him. He just smiles.

“You’re staring, Styles,” you sigh.

“Yeah, I know,” he sighs back. He stands up, pushing his chair back with a squeak. His plate’s barely touched. He puts it to the side and hops up onto the counter. “Going home?” he asks, legs swinging, even though he knows the answer.

“Yeah.” You stand up, come around the counter. “Looks nice,” you go on, thumbing the top of your outfit, “but uncomfortable as fuck.” His eyes follow your fingers, drift over you, come back up to your eyes, a shade darker than his usual green.

You can see him struggle, see the offer on the tip of his tongue.

Wanna stay? Borrow something of mine?

The unasked questions hang in the air for a second.

He’s sitting right next to the sink. Slowly, you step closer to him. Closer, closer, even closer. Soon you’re close enough to kiss. Close enough for his hands, folded between his legs, to graze your dress, your stomach. His finger twitches, but he doesn’t move. “Kiss me, Styles,” you whisper.

He holds your gaze, the challenge dying in his eyes as he loses composure.

He’s not breathing.

Neither are you.

He closes his eyes.

You inhale shallowly, let your plate slide into the sink next to him. “I’ll call an Uber,” you tell him quietly, and you see his jaw clench. A bit of satisfaction races through you because you want him to be annoyed. Want him to feel the frustration you feel every time you look at him.

Because he could offer. He could give you a t-shirt. He could let you stay, could kiss you, could kiss you all morning and all afternoon and break all the rules. Every single one of them, with just a few words.

One word, actually.

Stay, he could say, softly, breathlessly, and you would.

But he doesn’t.

So you don’t.

***

You’re not supposed to wear his clothes.

He’s not supposed to kiss you in the morning. Or ever, really, except at night.

No two consecutive nights of sleeping together.

No staying.

It’s surprising, really, how long you’ve lasted. It’s been a few weeks, and not a single rule’s been broken. A few loopholes here and there - leaving then coming back rather than staying, for example…

But it’s worked. It’s worked. Despite what your friends have said, you’re not dependent on each other. You can go more than a day without seeing each other, can kiss other people. It’s not a relationship.

You leave his house crying sometimes, sure, but you’re not in a relationship.

And that’s really all that matters.

***

You use a loophole and go back to Harry’s place after a few hours. More than a few. You’re productive. Kind of. You get a few things done, stare at the ceiling, scroll through social media. It’s pretty late when you go back.

By the time the two of you become bored of the TV, the sun’s set. It’s dark outside, and cold, but you follow Harry into the hallway without a sweatshirt. “Think we should move to Alaska or summat so we can see the stars better,” Harry murmurs as he pushes open the big door out onto the roof.

“I’ll get you a telescope for your birthday,” you reply.

“And tickets for an Alaskan cruise.”

You look up towards the sky, craning your neck. “Yeah,” you agree, smiling. “And tickets for an Alaskan cruise.” Harry sits down, stretching to reach for a ratty tennis ball. It’s against the wall, right where you left it a few days ago. Gently, he rolls it forward, and it hits your foot and rolls back to him.

A while ago, probably a few years back, somebody left a tennis ball on the roof of Harry’s apartment complex. It’s old and fraying and more brownish than green. A few weeks ago, Harry brought you up to the roof, and a few days ago, you found the old tennis ball.

“Would you?” you ask, sitting down.

He bounces the ball towards you. “Would I what?”

You smile, wiggle your ring finger. “Marry me.”

He grins. “Buy me a ring and I’ll say ‘I do.’”

“No,” you say, bouncing the ball back. “Move to Alaska.”

Bounce. “Of course.”

Bounce. “That fast?”

“Yeah.”

You bite your lip. It’s quiet for a minute, both of you concentrating on the ball.

“Italy,” Harry says.

“Spaghetti,” you say back.

Harry shrugs. “I’d move there.”

“For the spaghetti.”

“And the stars.”

“And the romance.”

Harry doesn’t throw the ball hard enough, and it bounces twice. “I’d move to Paris, too.”

“For the baguettes.” You copy his throw. Bounce, bounce, catch.

“But not the romance.”

“Just the baguettes.”

“Bread above all else.”

“Did you love her?”

Harry looks away from the ball, his green eyes flicking up to your face.

The ball bounces past him.

Harry blinks, and then stands up to go and get it. You watch him, watch his back, biting your lip because you’re kind of regretting saying anything. He’s mentioned a girl. He was open about it from the beginning.

No relationships, he said, smiling. Been there, done that. No thanks.

She probably broke his heart.

You’d feel bad for him if he’d tell you anything more than, We were great. Let’s watch a movie. As is, though, he’s said nothing, and your curiosity is beginning to overwhelm your sympathy.

When he comes back, he fiddles with the ball for a second before bouncing it back.

“No,” he says.

You toss the ball lightly, letting it bounce once, twice, three times… Too light. It’s rolling by the time it gets to him. He bounces it in front of him, and then throws it, high. Bounce, bounce - toss. It arcs up into the air, and you look up to catch it before it hits you in the nose.

“Really,” you say, because it’s been a few seconds and he’s still not said anything.

Harry bounces the ball normally, and you catch it. “I liked her,” he says.

“I should hope so.” You bounce it back, normally, and he does the same.

You’re back on cadence.

A few seconds go by.

“Maybe I did,” he says quietly. “Love her.”

Bounce. Bounce. Bounce. Bounce.

“I tried,” he says.

Bounce. Bounce.

“There is no try,” you say. “Only do.”

“Maybe I tried too hard.”

“If it’s not there, it’s not there.”

Harry frowns at you. “How would you know, huh?”

“Because if it’s there…” Bounce. “It’s there.” Bounce. “So the opposite must be true too.”

“And you’ve been in love.” He sounds skeptical.

You smile. “Maybe.”

“Being in love with yourself doesn’t count.”

“Sure it does.”

He’s smiling, now, not even looking at the ball, just grinning at you, blinding you. “Going from mirror to mirror in your room doesn’t count as speed dating.” You scoff, bounce the ball too hard, but he keeps his gaze on you, steady, laughing, as he reaches up and catches it.

“Saying I love you to your reflection in the microwave doesn’t count as heartfelt declarations over dinner,” he adds on. You laugh incredulously and say, “You’re just on fire tonight, aren’t you?”

Harry grins. “Call me a slider, ‘cause I’m on a roll.”

“I’ll leave,” you warn, giving him a look.

“Don’t be so sour, dough.” He giggles in glee, totally pleased with himself.

“First you’re insulting my self-love -”

“You mean self-loaf?”

“And now you’re on about bread!”

“Hey, you started it with the baguette talk,” Harry laughs.

You sigh, trying in vain to hide your smile, and catch the ball. “Come on,” you say, standing up, “it’s getting late.” Harry follows you, still grinning. “What, wanna go to bread early tonight?”

“Shut uppp,” you whine.

Harry leans in, catching the door, and says, “Don’t worry, darling, you’re still the apple of my rye…” You groan, stepping away and starting down the stairs. “God, you’re impossible.” Harry skips down the steps behind you. “What, my jokes are too upper crust for you?”

“That doesn’t even make sense!”

“Sense?” Harry echoes. “If you want sense, I can give you some… pumpernickel!”

“You know where you can shove your pumpernickel -”

“What, between my two buns?”

A laugh slips out of you. You’re at his apartment now, and you turn around and lean back against the door, smiling at him wordlessly for just a second, admiring him, because sometimes that’s just what you have to do when you’re in front of Harry Styles.

“I need to go,” you finally say.

Harry pouts, leaning in, and he presses kisses against your neck. You close your eyes, resting your head against the door, exposing more skin, sighing softly. Then he murmurs, “But I’ve gotta mayonnaise your buns…”

“Jesus!” you exclaim, laughing as you’re snapped out of it, and you gently push his shoulders away. “No, you can’t, Harry, we can’t.” He’s still smiling, and he kisses your nose, and you feel like that should be against one of the rules, and he says, “What, too many crumby puns?”

“I love your crumby puns,” you say impulsively, and then you frown, looking down, because you’ll kiss his nose too if you keep looking at those green eyes of his. “No, Harry, I - I stayed over last night.”

A pause.

You look up.

“Oh,” he says, and then he pulls away. “Oh, right.”

You clear your throat, and say, “I’ll see you later.”

“Later,” he echoes, nodding. “Bye,” he says.

You smile, and you can feel it not reaching your eyes, and you say, “Bye.”

As you walk away, you wonder for a moment what would’ve happened if you told him why you don’t do relationships, rather than asking him about why he doesn’t do them. You wonder how he would’ve reacted if you told him you don’t do relationships because the only person you’d consider having a relationship with is the only person who doesn’t do relationships.

Too late now, you think, and then you realize you’re crying as you leave his house.

Well. At least you’re not in a relationship.

***

He tastes like vanilla. Feels like heaven. Kisses like it’s his sole purpose in life.

His scent, taste, touch, lingers on you for hours, days, decades after On nights. The vivid memory of his fingers, tongue, body, leaves you breathless, crying, blissful, through days, Off nights, lonely mornings.

Tonight’s an Off night. You stayed over last night. It’s beginning to just be every other night, which wasn’t exactly the intention of the rule in the first place, but you really just can’t bring yourself to care.

You can’t even bring yourself to care that what’s happening right now is basically - well, it’s basically sex. You’re at some club, bar, whatever, and he’s all over you, you’re all over him, and he’s so close you can feel his breath, feel his want, in waves on your skin.

He doesn’t kiss you though.

Because that would break a rule.

It’s tantalizing, really, because his lips ghost over your skin and his hands are everywhere and nowhere at once and you just need him to touch you. He’s simultaneously overwhelming your senses and depriving you of him and his hands and his lips and his touch.

You’re pretty hammered by the time the two of you are back at your apartment. The high’s wearing down, though, and you can feel all the energy seeping out of you. Your eyelids start to feel very heavy… like they’re being weighed down by little butterflies, tiny blue wings fluttering, teeny insect legs doing dances on your eyelids…

“Help me out, darling,” Harry murmurs, and you sluggishly maneuver your limbs to help him slide off your outfit. You giggle at the feel of his fingers slipping off your bra to tug a soft t-shirt over your head.

“If you wanted to get me naked, Styles,” you say, stumbling over your words, “all you had to do was ask…” Harry sighs, pulling your covers up towards your chest. “Don’t move unless you have to throw up,” he says. “I’m gonna get water and… medicine, or something, for tomorrow.”

“Don’t go,” you whine, pouting, and Harry rolls his eyes. “I’ll be right back.”

“No…”

He’s back before you know it, and you hear him set something down on your nightstand, and the butterflies are tap dancing and apparently they have some industrial glue or something because all you want to do is shut your eyes and sleep for hours… and hours…

Harry stays for a second, and you want to look at him, examine him, watch his facial expressions and study the way he looks at you and decide whether or not it’s the same way you look at him, but those butterflies are relentless.

Your voice is just a whisper when the floor creaks because Harry’s moving and you say, “Please stay,” because Harry can save you from those butterflies, right? “I can’t, love,” Harry says, and you want to point out that if he can call you love, he can certainly stay for a few hours and save you from the butterflies.

But that’s a lot of words, so you say, “Please,” instead.

“Darling…”

The butterflies do a jig. You open your eyes when they bounce, relieving the pressure on your lids for a moment, and your eyes are fluttering but you can just make out Harry in front of you. He looks conflicted.

“Just for a second,” you say.

“But last night…”

“I won’t try anything if you won’t,” you say, half-smiling tiredly, because you know you’re starting to convince him, and the prospect of Harry touching you softly, comfortingly, sweetly, is making those butterflies fly all the way to your tummy and suddenly you have the energy to smile.

He sighs, heavily, and you smile more because he walks around and the bed dips as he crawls in next to you. You feel his arms around you. You turn to face him, because nearly all the butterflies are in your tummy now and you don’t feel like your eyes are glued shut anymore and you wanna see those green eyes of his.

“Hi,” you say.

Harry closes his eyes. “You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

“I’m not tired anymore.” You want to see his eyes.

“Yeah, but I am.”

“Let’s have coffee so you’re not.”

“Tomorrow.”

There’s a second of silence. He’s falling asleep. You have the sudden urge to kiss his nose. It’s right in front of you, he’s right in front of you, and you study him the way you wanted to earlier except now his eyes are closed.

He’s so pretty. You want to kiss him.

“Harry?” you whisper.

“Hmm.”

“I’m sad.”

He smiles.

“Hey, you’re not supposed to smile when someone tells you they’re sad.”

“My bad.”

“Yeah, your bad, Styles. Make it up to me. Kiss me.” You make a kissy noise.

The smile disappears, and he opens his eyes. He’s frowning now, and a flash of panic shoots through you because he’s mad now and he’ll leave, and you hurry, backtrack, “I mean - I mean…” You sniffle. “I don’t know what I mean.”

“You don’t mean anything,” Harry says, “because you’re drunk.”

“Drunk words are sober thoughts.”

“Oh, don’t do this,” he mutters, sitting up.

You sit up too, reaching for his arm, and you say, “Sorry. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t -”

He looks at you, and then his gaze softens, and then you feel tears on your cheeks and you realize you’re crying and you’re crying because you want to kiss him but apparently he thinks you’re crying because he was sharp with you and -

“Don’t cry,” he says, whispering, and he leans forward and thumbs away the tears on your cheeks. The butterflies waltz across your eyelids, and you close your eyes and lean into his touch and he’s cupping your cheek and he says, “I’m sorry.”

Then he breaks a rule.

He kisses you. Gently, on the cheek, where your tears were.

You melt into him. He kisses your cheeks, your forehead, your nose.

“Don’t go,” you whisper.

He holds you close, kisses you once on the lips. “I won’t.”

***

The bed’s cold.

Surprise, surprise.

Rubbing at your throbbing temples, you gulp down the medicine and water he’d left you.

After a few more moments of lying motionless on the bed, you sit up with a groan. You wonder where Harry is. Perhaps he’s doing yoga. Or cooking breakfast. Maybe he’s baking cookies. Who knows. Not you, certainly.

The floor’s cold. You scowl at it. Fuck Harry Styles and his pristine hardwood floors.

You walk towards the kitchen, getting your annoyed frown ready for when he asks if you slept well. You debate hugging him instead of replying like normal. Maybe you’ll kiss him. Or just tell him you love him.

Smiling lazily at the thought, you step into the kitchen.

It’s empty.

Your smile disappears.

Probably doing yoga, then. There’s a cup of coffee on the counter, though, so you grab it before doing anything else. You sigh, wrapping your fingers around it. It’s still warm. You take a sip and go to wipe some crumbs off the counter.

Then you see the note.

Out. See you later. xxH.

“Oh,” you say, out loud.

It’s not quite unusual, per se, but you’re more than a little surprised. Also, you’re wondering how recently he left if the coffee’s still hot. You’re a bit irked you didn’t wake up just a few minutes earlier. Would’ve been nice to catch him in the act.

You take another sip of the coffee, studying the note. His handwriting’s nice.

Sighing, you turn around and walk back upstairs. Your head still hurts.

After getting dressed, you drag yourself into the blinding sunlight and into an Uber. You stare at your phone the entire way home. It doesn’t ring, or chime, or vibrate, or do anything more than reflect your frowning face back at you.

Actually, it does light up a few times, but nothing’s from the right person. That only makes you more annoyed. Your head hurts really badly. He doesn’t text, or call, or FaceTime, the entire day.

Or the next.

You text him a few times, call him a few more.

Nothing.

Zero. Zilch. Nada.

Until a week later, when he knocks on your door.

***

He smiles at you when you open the door. “Hi,” he says. “Can I come in?”

“Sure,” you say, hesitantly, and you step back to let him in. He walks in and sits on your couch. He fidgets for a second, and then stands up again. He starts to pace. You watch him, waiting for him to talk.

“I went on a date last week,” he finally says.

Your brows jump. For a second, a billion thoughts rush through your head - what about the ex, was it just you, if he wanted to date why didn’t he ask you, was this the first time he’d been with somebody else since being with you, why the hell was he telling you this, were you the only one going about life as if the “relationship” was exclusive even though it wasn’t, what the fuck is going on - and then you reply, “Congratulations.”

“The night after… I left you. It was a little weird.”

Swallowing thickly, you ask, “So… did it go well?”

Harry frowns looking at the floor. “Yeah,” he says.

“Didja take ‘em home?”

Harry’s smile fades, and he looks up at you. “Er - yeah.”

“And you got laid?”

Now Harry’s frowning. “Yeah.”

“That’s great. Why’ve you been radio silent?”

“Because…” He fades off. “I don’t know.”

You pause for a second, not sure what to say.

Harry bites his lip. “You’re upset,” he says.

Stunned, you blink. “What?” you laugh incredulously.

“You’re upset,” Harry says again.

“Am I?” you ask, sarcasm dripping from your words. “Am I, really? Tell me more. Explain my emotions. ‘cause shit, Styles, apparently you’ve got all your emotions figured out - I mean, damn, you’re so fucking figured out that you can kiss away my tears one night and fuck someone else the next. Your versatility is to be fucking admired, Harry.”

There’s a beat of silence.

He closes his eyes, puts his head in his hands. “I wasn’t even gonna tell you,” he mutters. “I was just gonna be a prat and move on and never talk to you again because technically we’re not dating - I mean - not technically - we’re not dating, we’re not -” He coughs. “We’re not dating,” he repeats weakly.

He looks up again. “But then I couldn’t,” he says. “I couldn’t…” He laughs lowly, wryly. “I couldn’t stay away from you, as cliche as that sounds. I wasn’t even gonna come here, I was gonna - I don’t know, I was gonna… plan it out, make it special, show you I fucked up, but I… I was driving home and then I turned onto your street and suddenly…”

He takes a deep breath and then tells you, “I’m sorry.”

You soften. “Yeah,” you say.

He starts to say something and stops. He reaches out, then pulls away. He turns around, running a hand through his hair, and then clears his throat and sits down on the floor. He leans on the couch, slides the coffee table aside, and pulls a small bouncy ball out of his pocket. You watch, confused, and then he tosses the ball at you. You catch it just before it hits your TV.

“I used to get these at the dentist,” he says, holding up his hands for you to throw it back.

“Harry,” you say, frowning at him.

He sighs again and puts his hands down. You watch him, fiddling with the ball.

“She cheated on me,” he says after a second.

You bite your lip, and then sit down and gently bounce the ball towards him.

“I loved her,” he says.

He bounces the ball back at you.

You catch it.

“I love you more,” Harry says.

You swallow thickly, and then you bounce the ball back.

“I figure… I figure you can’t cheat on me if we’re not in a relationship.”

The bouncy ball is smaller than the tennis ball. It’s harder to catch.

You finally say something. “I wouldn’t cheat on you.”

“I know that,” Harry says.

Bounce, bounce, bounce. The ball is pink and blue. It’s mesmerizing.

“I wanna kiss you,” Harry says quietly, and when you look up, his eyes are on the ball still, and his ears are tinged pink. “I wanna kiss you all the time. ‘specially when you smile. I wanna kiss you when you laugh. When you cry. Right now.”

You don’t know what to say. So you settle on, “Thanks.”

He glances up at you, smiling, finally, and it’s nice to see. “You’re welcome.”

You bounce the ball towards him, and he catches it. Then he stands up. He walks over to you and offers you his hand. You take it, and stand up. “I wanna break a rule,” you whisper. He smiles, giving a small shrug. “Don’t have to.”

You raise a brow.

“Can’t break a rule if it’s not there in the first place,” he says.

“Right,” you say, a smile growing on your lips. “So no more rules.”

Harry bites his lip. He looks nervous. “The rules are no more.”

You smile. “It’s official.”

“You’re smiling,” Harry whispers, leaning in.

“Wanna kiss me?”

“Mhmm.”

You lean in, too, smiling more. “Well, what’s stopping you?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Harry says quietly, and he kisses you.

***

The bed… is warm.

You’re warm.

And smiling.

Your head’s on Harry’s chest, and the first thing you see when you open your eyes is his moth tattoo. He’s awake, or at least you assume he is by the way his hand gently traces shapes on your bare shoulder.

“How long’ve you been up?” you mumble, looking up at him.

“Hours,” Harry whispers, kissing your forehead.

“How kind of you to stay with me.”

Harry kisses you again, and you giggle and let him shift you so you’re on top of him. “Better make it up to me,” Harry says with a smirk. You lean down, moving your hips slightly, and nibble on his ear. “Excited to see me, are you?”

“Excited to finally be able to move,” Harry replies, pressing kisses along your shoulder. “My arm’s fallen asleep.” You laugh, kissing him more, unable to keep the smile off your face, and he’s smiling too, and you laugh and kiss him and you decide to stay.

***

okay this has been in my drafts forever lmao but here it is!!! hope you like it!!! if you did, a reblog and some feedback would be amazing! thanks for reading 💜

masterlist | ask

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles

[soleilsuhh]

— the four times you almost said ‘i love you’ [and the one time he did].

pairing. jaehyun x gender neutral! reader.

genre. angst. fluff. best-friends-to-lovers. mutual pining. high-school/college au.

word count. 1.5k words.

i. the first time you almost said it — you were both fifteen, and you were at your friend’s birthday party.

the music was so loud that it made your skin tingle and you could feel your heart beat in accordance to the thump of the bass. you liked this song. you liked it because it wasn’t just any song — “our song,” he had called it the past few months when you first discovered it together at a small, local record store. and right now, he looked back at you with that knowing grin and before long, he was leading you towards the dance floor despite your unsure protests.

when you reached there, a distant, faded chatter could be heard as he pulled you closer. he dropped his head slightly, his voice raised to a slight yell over the music, “i asked the dj to play it!” 

you feigned an offended look, “i thought it was our song!” 

your best-friend flashed you that half-grin you hated and loved so much, “it still is,” 

the music got louder, drawing you in. and soon, you were dancing with him. at one point, you asked him to spin you around and he did: he spun you round and round in circles until you almost stumbled against him and you would have fell over if it weren’t for his quick reflexes and hands that held you up. 

the joyous sound of laughter rang in your ears — yours and his. what a beautiful sound, you thought, you liked it even more than the music. then as he helped you straighten up, both of you still lost in the moment, the words almost came out of your mouth: “i love —” you stopped yourself but he caught on. 

“yeah?” he yelled over the music. 

you gave him a smile, “i was gonna say i love this!” 

a lie. the truth was you were going to say you loved him. you loved him; how could you not when he was smiling at you like that?

ii. the second time you almost said it — it was during the summer holidays; you were both sixteen. together with his mom and dad, he was over at your parent’s house for dinner. you were sitting across from each other at the dining table. your mom and his mom had been very close friends since high-school and it was an unspoken tradition they made up to have dinner at one another’s house every other weekend.

you were honestly losing interest as the adults continued their conversation. and so of course, your eyes found their way to him, with his plain black t-shirt and his hair neat except for that particular strand that fell across his eyebrows. 

from across the table, he caught your eyes and as he smiled, your eyes drifted to the pair of dimples that appeared on his cheeks; seeing them, it made you smile, which in turn, made him smile even more. and soon you both sat there, forgetting about your surroundings and the food that was getting cold as you grinned at each other, trying to stifle the giggles that were threatening to tumble out of your mouths. 

“okay, you two, stop making goo-goo eyes at each other and eat your food,” you heard your mom say beside you. 

you were abruptly pulled back to reality and you averted your gaze, feeling the warmth spread on your cheeks. “mom, seriously,” you managed to mutter. 

“the food is delicious as always, mrs. [y/l/n],” jaehyun said. 

that made your mom smile affectionately at him like he was her own son, which again, made you smile as your heart filled with warmth. and just like that, you almost said it to him, but you swallowed the words by quickly gulping down a glass of water. it scared you how natural it felt to almost say it even in front of your family and his. 

iii. the third time you almost said it — it happened a few weeks after your seventeenth birthday. 

you were pressed against the couch, his hands on either side of your head. it started as a harmless play-fighting after bickering about which movie to watch but one thing led to another and now you were here. 

heat rose from your stomach to your chest and then to your face. his lips were getting closer and your heart raced, the scent of him suddenly hyptonic. “erm — your lips are getting very close to mine,” you said, voice breathless and barely above whisper. 

“i know,” he said quietly, pausing. “should i stop?” 

you almost shook your head ‘no.’ don’t stop, you wanted to say. but you pushed him away slightly which was enough indication for him; he looked at you for a moment, his eyes held a look that resembled too much like hurt for a second but almost immediately, he gave you that half-smile again. he pulled away and instinctively rubbed the back of his neck. you also slowly sat up and both of you looked at anywhere else but each other. 

you thought that maybe this was the time to tell him; if not now then when? 

just as you were about to say those three words, he spoke cooly, “it’s alright, we don’t need to talk about it,” he had decided to revert his attention back to the movie catalogue on netflix, like nothing happened. “i guess we can watch the one that you wanted to...” he mumbled, casually. 

your heart ached but you simply said, “yeah, sounds good,” 

iv. the fourth time you almost said it — it was the year you were both moving away for college — yours was not that far from home but him...he was going abroad. 

in the gloom of the moonless night, your fingers almost touch as you walked side-by-side. you knew this was a good-bye; he was leaving in the morning and although you had barely succeeded trying not to think about it while spending the whole day with him, everything felt too real right now and you couldn’t ignore the dull ache in your heart. heavy, the air seemed as the sight of your house got bigger with each step you took. you wanted to prolong this moment with him and yet you wanted it to be over soon. 

as you reached in front of your house, you finally looked at him with a mask of contentment. you wished him well with a voice that sounded like you and yet it didn’t.

“you’re acting like we won’t ever see each other again,” he almost scoffed but you could see the sadness welling in his eyes behind that smile. 

just say it, a voice inside your head told you. but instead, you just gave him a soft smile, “see you tomorrow at the airport,” 

you couldn’t help but think about how this would be the last ‘see you tomorrow’ for a long time. 

“okay,” he said. 

you turned around to go but before you could take two steps, he grabbed your hand. you stared at each other for a long second.

“i, erm —” he paused then said, “don’t be late tomorrow,” 

“i won’t be,” 

another long second of just wordlessly looking at each other until he finally let go of your hand and you walked away. 

v. the one time he did — it had been a little over a year since you last saw each other. 

you were both back at your hometown for the summer holidays and for two months, you had been inseparable. your days blended together seamlessly and something between you felt more than just simple friendship. you were going on dates without calling them dates, you were sleeping over at each other’s places, making breakfast together, even something as little as grocery shopping, you did it together. you spent time with his family and he spent time with yours.

and right now, you were in his old bedroom, flipping through the photo albums with him, pointing out each embarrassing pose, expression, and making fun of each other. you loved how you were also there in the photographs and amidst the laughter, your eyes almost stung with a realization as you looked at him, sitting in front of you on the bed; this was the boy you had known for more than half your lives, the boy you you fell in love with since you were fifteen, the boy who was the cause of your many happy moments, the boy who was the reason for the sleepless nights —

you were in such a daze and so lost in your own thoughts that you weren’t sure if you dreamed this moment to life, but there was raw emotions in the way he looked at you and in the ways his fingers curled around yours as his face inched closer. 

“erm, jae, your lips are getting a little too close...” 

a rush of deja-vu hits you. 

“Mm,” he said, “do you want me to stop?” 

you looked at him for a long second, and this time around, you met his lips half-way. with a single kiss, you could feel the aches and the pains of all those years gradually lifting. you parted for a moment and you felt that all-too familiar feeling again, bubbling up inside you. 

“i love you,” 

the words hadn’t come out of your mouth but his. you tensed and stared at him before you felt your whole being soften from the look in his eyes. you could feel yourself letting go and for once, you didn’t stop yourself. 

“i love you too,” you whispered, and you said it again louder, “i love you,” 

he smiled. there it was again; the smile of his that made you smile. 

he squeezed your hand, “i know, y/n,” he said, his voice was low and tender, “i know,” 

#kpop imagines #kpop drabbles #kpop fluff #nct #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct fluff #nct angst #nct fic #nct fics #jaehyun #jung jaehyun #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun fics #jaehyun fic #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun x y/n #jaehyun x you #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun angst #nct high school au #nct college au #nct au #nct aus #nct x you

[queenshelby]

A New Life

Part Six: Gone Too Far

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 4,977

Warning: Fluff, Smut (a lot of it!!!)

Shortly after you emerged from the bathroom, Laura apologised to you but, for you, it was too late. You wanted to go home and, whilst you told Cillian to stay and enjoy the theatre play, he was determined to at least drive you back to your house.

‘I will take Y/N home’ Cillian said before handing Laura the theatre tickets and money for taxi so that she wouldn’t use public transport after the play was finished.

‘Sure, alright’ Laura huffed out somewhat disappointed before whispering to you while Cillian asked the waiter for your coats and paid for dinner.

‘I suppose this is the perfect time for you to make your little move, isn’t it?’ Laura said somewhat annoyed and you simply shook your head.

‘Think what you want to think Laura. I don’t really care’ you said somewhat frustrated.

‘Neither do I, because I will have my chance soon. Cillian and I will be working together on the UNESCO project next week’ Laura explained just before Cillian returned with your jackets and asked whether you were ready to leave.

***

‘You know you could have stayed’ you said after you arrived at your apartment and you unlocked the door, letting you both inside.

‘I really didn’t want to stay Y/N. Dinner was bloody awkward’ Cillian chuckled before taking off his shoes and hanging up his jacket in the hallway.

‘Do you mind if I have a quick shower before we watch a movie? I tend to get uncomfortable in these pants’ you said as you handed Cillian a bottle of red wine and two freshly washed wine glasses.

‘Not at all. Want me to pick a movie?’ he asked and you nodded, knowing that he would pick something good as his taste in movies was much better than yours.

***

When you emerged from the bathroom, you sat down next to Cillian on the sofa, wearing a black loose cotton dress.

Your hair was freshly washed and braided and Cillian couldn’t help but notice the scent of your shampoo.

‘Very coconutty’ he chuckled before handing you a glass of wine.

‘Too much?’ you asked, unsure whether he liked it or not.

‘No, I like it. Reminds me of my last holiday in Spain’ Cillian observed.

‘I didn’t realise that they had coconuts in Spain’ you said somewhat surprised.

‘I don’t think they do but everyone at the beach used this fancy coconut scented sunscreen. I even ended up buying a bottle because it smelled pretty good’ Cillian said somewhat randomly and you couldn’t help but laugh.

‘You are weird’ you giggled and, just as you did, Cillian laughed.

‘I’ve been told that before, especially by your brother’ Cillian said just before he turned on the movie.

‘Well, I like weird’ you said before looking at the TV.

The first scene of the movie was rather steamy, featuring two actors almost completely naked in the shower, making love to each other.

You couldn’t help but gasp before purposely drinking a large sip of wine from your glass.

‘A friend of mine recommended this movie’ Cillian said, feeling the need to explain his choice which is when you suddenly turned to face him.

‘How do you act out those kinds of scenes?’ you asked, causing Cillian to chuckle.

‘After you familiarise yourself with the script and your character and get undressed, you just switch off. You put yourself into the mindset of the character and just do it’ Cillian explained.

‘Does it feel different kissing someone on screen as opposed to kissing someone in real life?’ you wondered and Cillian nodded.

‘Very different because, most of the time, you don’t actually want to kiss the person you are working with. I like kissing a lot but it can be a little awkward if you are kissing your co-star’ Cillian explained, making you blush.

‘So, you like kissing, hmm?’ you asked cheekily.

‘Of course. Don’t you?’ Cillian responded somewhat amused by your question.

‘No actually, I’ve never been a big kisser’ you said, biting your lip nervously. You had always thought that kissing was overrated and the two men you’ve been with before weren’t really good kissers.

‘You are still young. Perhaps you just haven’t kissed the right person yet’ Cillian then said reassuringly and, just as he did, you leaned closer towards him carefully.

‘Perhaps’ you said quietly, swallowing harshly, before tentatively caressing Cillian’s face and brushing your red wine-stained lips against his.

Cillian parted his lips slightly, allowing you to kiss him for a second or two before, suddenly, he pulled away.

‘I can’t Y/N’ Cillian then huffed out, leaving you somewhat stunned.

‘So, when you told me the other day that I am attractive, you just said that to cheer me up. You don’t…’ you began to say, but Cillian stopped you.

‘I am attracted to you, alright. You are beautiful and very sexy. But you are also twenty years younger than me and you are my best friend’s sister. It just doesn’t sit right with me. Despite, as I told you, I am not interested in dating anyone. I just need a break from dating’ Cillian explained calmly.

‘I am not interested in dating anyone either Cillian, especially not someone who lives on the other side of the globe and who resembles exactly what I was trying to get away from. But, I can’t help but being attracted to you and I want to sleep with you, just once’ you said slightly tipsy, causing Cillian to gasp.

Cillian cocked a brow, his eyes burning. ‘Why me? Wouldn’t you rather do this sort of thing with someone your own age?’ he asked, amazed by your directness.

‘No, I don’t. In fact, I think that you are very handsome and I trust you. I’ve never had a one-night stand before because, quite frankly, I haven’t trusted anyone enough to keep it to themselves. With you, it’s different’ you explained and, just as you did, he leaned in and pressed his lips back onto yours in a more heated and passionate kiss.

The truth was that he had fantasised about you for a while, but would never have acted upon his desire to sleep with you because of his relationship with Cian. When, however, you made such tempting proposal to him, it was difficult for Cillian to deny himself any longer and his primal desires took over. He hadn’t had sex in four months and the attraction he felt towards you was intense, even to the point where he couldn’t remember a time where he felt so attracted towards another woman before. He needed to get it out of his system and so did you.

‘This is a one off thing and it needs to stay between us’ Cillian huffed out after your lips drifted apart and you nodded in agreeance, pulling him closer again.

The kiss quickly became fiercer and you realised that he was right. You hadn’t kissed the right person before because, what he was doing to you with his lips and tongue, was unbelievable.

His tongue circled around yours, exploring your mouth while, every so often, he pulled against your lower lip with his teeth slightly.

It was intense and much unlike any other kiss you had experienced before.

‘I think I might be changing my mind about kissing’ you whispered out against Cillian’s lips in between several passionate kisses and your comment made him grin.

‘Wait until I show you what else this mouth can do’ Cillian smirked as his mouth left yours and he lifted up your thin cotton dress and pulled it over your head.

You resisted a little but eventually allowed him to remove your dress, leaving you wearing nothing but your panties. However, being very self-conscious, you immediately covered the scars on your stomach with one of your hands while forcing Cillian to look up into your eyes.

Without saying a word, his lips met yours again for a passionate kiss just as you were inhaling sharply, worried about what he might think when he saw all of you in the dim light of the living room.

‘Do you want me to stop?’ he then asked, sensing your nervousness and reluctance but you shook your head.

‘Good, because that would be really damn difficult for me now’ Cillian chuckled, causing you to laugh and, just as you did, Cillian ceased the opportunity to move your arm out of the way and away from your stomach.

‘You are beautiful Y/N, there is no need to cover up your body’ he then said before taking off his t-shirt, causing you to gasp again.

His upper body was covered in small freckles and he had a little bit of chest hair, which you couldn’t wait to get your hands in. His body was toned, much more than you had expected and, just as he threw his t-shirt onto the floor, he kneeled there in front of you and starred at your body just as you starred at his.

‘Second thoughts?’ you asked but he shook his head with a grin.

‘Absolutely not. Just admiring the view’ he smirked before looking up at you and his gaze was almost as hot as your skin felt. It was too much and you couldn’t get enough.

He was right though. You shouldn’t be doing this, a voice screamed in the back of your head, but as Cillian dipped his head down to your breast, teeth grazing over sensitive flesh, you slammed the mental door on that voice.

‘Oh god’ you murmured as Cillian kissed and grazed over your bare breasts and you turned your brain off and focused once more on him as he pulled back. The usually-vivid blue of his eyes was blazing now, dark and stormy as he watched you through sooty lashes.

‘Are you sure you want this?’ he then asked again and you nodded.

‘Good, but you need to relax’ Cillian then said again, still noticing your tension and some apprehension and realising that you were uncomfortable in your own body.

‘I will try’ you said just before a sensual warmth flooded your chest as he lowered his head again, lips brushing softly against your nipple. A soft breathless sound fell from your lips, followed by a quiet moan. What he was doing felt simply incredible and he needed no further encouragement as he moved his hands to the curve of your waist, trailing tiny touches across your stomach like he was mapping out your body for his memory.

His mouth continued its assault on your nipple and you reached for him, one hand at his shoulder and the other in his hair, tugging at the roots with every new nip and flick of pleasure he offered.

Until you pulled too hard and his head came up, eyes so dark they’re nearly black, but a small smile ghosted across his wet mouth.

‘Easy’ he said in a gruff voice that tightened everything hot inside you and shot to your core. It pooled there, hot and heavy and adding to the anticipation that you were not sure could amp up much higher because, if you were not touching more of him in the next five seconds, you would lose your fucking mind.

‘Let me touch you Cillian’ you told him and his full lips tugged into a cocky grin.

‘Not yet, we’ve got all night’ he smirked just before his mouth shifted and grazed across your ribcage and down towards your stomach.

You tensed again and tried to get his attention somehow as he was too close to your scars, but he wouldn’t let off. Instead, he kissed you and touched you, devouring your body and breathing in the scent of your skin.

You closed your eyes against the sudden swell of panic that gripped your throat as this wasn’t something you were used to. You took a shaky breath, acutely aware of the cool air across your breasts and his lips on your stomach which is when he asked “do you want me to keep going?”

You nodded almost imperceptibly, causing Cillian to smirk.

‘Then you need to relax’ he reminded you.

‘Trying’ you huffed out nervously, which is when Cillian told you again how beautiful and sexy he thought you were and that he loved everything that he was seeing right there in front of him.

He then lowered himself over the swell of your hip and he caught the fabric of your panties in his teeth, tugging them down as he moved down your body and away from your hand.

You inhaled sharply and, finally, spread your legs and let him look.

‘You are so fucking wet already’ Cillian observed before he swore under his breath, voice rough and hot with desire. His eyes were glued to you and you felt both, drunk with power and at his mercy.

A world of contradictions balanced in the space between your bodies, and it shattered when he lowered his mouth to you, tongue snaking out to catch the slickness of your folds, evidence of how much you wanted this.

‘Oh my god, fuck’ you moaned as you felt the warmth of his mouth on your aching pussy. His teasing licks lingered over your slit until you began rolling your hips, mewls of pleased torture pouring from your mouth when he skillfully avoided your clit.

You didn’t dare to grab his hair and risk him stopping, so you fisted your hands in the blanket beneath you, twisting against his mouth to get him where you wanted him.

‘Impatient, are we?’ Cillian teased you, knowing exactly what you wanted. But he was determined to take his time with you especially since he knew that this was going to be a one-night stand.

‘Please Cillian, fuck just…please’ you gasped, hips pressing desperately against him for more as he had spent ten minutes licking you, teasing you with his tongue, giving you just a little bit each time.

He lifted his head, looking up at you from between your thighs and it was so fucking sexy that you thought you might come right then. His mouth was wet with your desire, and he smiled devilishly at you before moving his hands from where they rested on your thighs, up to bracket your hips and held them still against the couch you were on.

‘Do you want to cum?’ he asked with a smug smile and you nodded eagerly in response. You weren’t sure what made you think that you would since no one had ever made you orgasm before without the help from a vibrator, but you were determined to let him try not that he had been edging you for ten minutes already. If worse came to worse, you knew what to do if you didn’t get there in the end.

But, for Cillian, this was all part of the game. He loved to tease and little did you know that he could play this game for hours until you would literally squirm and scream for your release. But not tonight, tonight he was simply going to give you what you wanted provided that you beg.

‘Please Cillian’ you asked again, causing him to smirk.

‘Please what?’ he teased.

‘Please just make me cum…please’ you said, desperate for his tongue to make contact with your mound again.

Luckily for you, he finally relented and his lips closed around your clit pretty much as soon as they made contact with your mound.

‘Oh fuck, yes right there’ you screamed as you couldn’t even remember your own name much less the movie you were supposed to be watching.

Then his tongue was everywhere and he began adding one finger followed by another inside of you.

He curved his fingers upwards slightly while he continued to suck on your clit and, just as he did, an unfamiliar feeling raged through your body.

‘Holy fuck’ you moaned, not sure what was going on as the rough intrusion and onslaught of sensations had you seeing stars.

‘Yes oh god, yes fuck’ you screamed as your legs suddenly began to shake violently and you were coming against his hand and mouth, shouting his name desperately.

‘What the fuck was that?’ you huffed out, breathing heavily as the stars began to fade and he slowly withdrew his fingers from inside you.

‘What do you mean?’ Cillian asked somewhat confused and with a slight chuckle as you were still panting.

‘Like an orgasm, but more intense. I couldn’t control it’ you gasped and Cillian smiled in response.

‘I guess I found your g-spot’ Cillian said with a smug smile before crawling up on your body and kissing you passionately, making you taste yourself on his lips and tongue.

‘Since this is a one night thing, can you show me where it is for future reference?’ you giggled, causing Cillian to laugh.

‘I don’t think you’ll be able to reach it yourself I am afraid’ Cillian then said before taking another sip from his glass of wine, allowing you some time to recover before suggesting that you take this to the bedroom.

‘Common then’ you grinned eagerly, taking his hand and pulling him off the lounge and towards your bedroom.

‘Do you have condoms?’ he asked and, of course, since you didn’t plan this, you didn’t.

‘No, but I am on birth control and up to date with all of my check ups’ you said, looking at him as if you were seeking reassurance from him that it was the same for him.

‘Same. So, I guess we don’t worry about it?’ he asked and you shook your head, dragging him towards the bed.

From the bed, you watched him unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans. Then he pushed them down and it was your turn to stare. Which you definitely did, wide eyed as he stood naked before you.

‘I can’t wait to be inside of you Y/N’ Cillian said as your gaze grew hotter as it trailed down Cillian’s body and settled on his hard cock. He watched you watch him. An arrogant smile was tilting his gorgeous lips as he crawled onto the bed with you and kneeled over you.

Every inch of him was beautiful. Almost as you imagined, but better. Clearly, he knew it as well.

Whilst Cillian would usually take his time with this as well, he had an unexplainable urge to become one with you. He couldn’t explain it, but he needed to be inside of you, now.

‘Spread your legs’ he instructed in a low voice, one hand tugging at your knee until you complied.

With your legs spread wide, he positioned himself in between them, kissing you passionately again while you ran your hands through his hair.

For at least a minute, he teased your entrance with the head of his cock and you lifted your hips, wanting him to enter you.

‘I want you inside me, please’ you huffed out as you felt him against you, hot and hard.

‘Patience isn’t your strong point, is it?’ Cillian smirked as he leaned into you slightly, causing you to moan.

But you wanted all of him, and you told him as much.

‘Please’ you begged and just as you did, he pushed his length inside of you gently.

‘Fuck you are so tight Y/N’ he groaned, almost surprised as he bottomed out against your cervix. As soon as he entered you, he realised that he would have more trouble controlling himself than usual and perhaps it was because he had been fantasising about you like this, naked beneath him, for some time.

‘You feel so good Cillian’ you moaned at the same time, holding him close as he gave you some time to adjust to his size before he started to move with slow but deep thrusts.

You loved feeling the warmth of his flesh inside you and he loved the feel of your moist walls rubbing against his cock as he thrusted in and out of you.

In between moans, you shared several passionate kisses and it didn’t take you long to find a rhythm.

Your fingernails were digging into the flesh of his perfectly round ass, keeping him deeper and deeper inside you as he continued to fuck you until, suddenly, his movements came to a standstill and he repositioned himself so that he could lift your legs against his shoulders.

‘Uhm, what are you…’ you were going to ask but, just as the words left your mouth, he drove back into you and you let out a loud moan.

‘Holy shit’ you shouted out as you could feel the tip of his cock against your g-spot in this position and every time he thrusted into you, electricity shot through your body.

‘Are you going to cum for me?’ Cillian asked and you could barely nod when your legs began to quiver.

‘That’s a good girl’ Cillian groaned and, just as he did, you started to scream so loud that he had to over your mouth with one of his hands.

‘Fuck you look so sexy like this’ he groaned, watching you come so hard, even harder than before as his cock thrusted against your g-spot and his pubic bone was rubbing against your clit.

He loved seeing you loose control beneath him and, only when you stopped screaming in pleasure, he slowed down stroking before, carefully, slipping out of you and allowing you to drop your legs back onto the bed.

‘Jesus Cillian’ you huffed out, slowly catching your breath and he couldn’t help but grin.

‘Did you, uhm…?’ you wondered as you were in a trance but Cillian shook his head.

‘No, I am not ready to cum yet. I am enjoying this way too much’ he smirked and you were amazed by the amount of self-control he had. You wondered, whether, perhaps, this came with age and you’ve been missing out on being with an older man for years.  

‘Well then Mr Murphy, how do you want to fuck me now?’ you grinned before pulling him in for a kiss and, when your lips drifted apart, he instructed you.

‘Turn around and put your arms onto the bed head’ he said and you complied with his request, thinking that you had unleashed the animal within him.

To your surprise, within seconds, Cillian scooted up behind you and lined himself up with your entrance again while nibbling on your ear and neck from behind. His kisses and bites were gentle and passionate and you realised soon that he got pleasure simply from pleasuring you.

‘Hmm that’s so nice’ you moaned as he kissed the back of your neck and his arms were tightening around you as he got impossibly harder.

You let your head fall back against his shoulder, exposing your throat and he wasted no time in lavishing it with attention, kissing and sucking the sensitive skin where your pulse was pounding.

‘I need to feel you Cillian’ you murmured through the waves of pleasure and sensations.

He didn’t answer you with words. Instead, you felt his hand slide between you as he lined himself up against you so that, if you moved at all, he’ll be inside you.

‘Do you just?’ he then teased as he gave you the little control he could afford to, and he waited like that for you to push backwards.

‘Go for it then’ Cillian smirked, thumbs brushing across your breasts, then your ribs and hips.

When you shifted them slightly, gasping at the intrusion despite how slick you were with wanting him, he groaned and tightened his grip.

‘You feel so fucking good’ he groaned as he bottomed out inside you eventually and the sound drove you into motion, moving together easily in an age old rhythm that just worked without effort with the way your bodies fitted together.

How he controlled himself like this was beyond you, but you enjoyed every moment of pleasure he was giving you.

Cillian’s hand found your hair, gripping it close to the scalp and tugging once. You let out a breathless cry and you could feel his chuckle vibrate against your back before he pulled you back onto all fours, breaking the contact in favour of a better view.

You heard Cillian suck in a breath, and when you peaked over your shoulder, he was watching himself slide into you, watching the way your ass moved with every thrust.

‘Jesus Y/N that’s so god damn sexy, you moving your ass like that’ he said in a guttural groan as he continued to thrust into you.

‘Take what you need Cillian’ you moaned, giving yourself to him and, when your careful pacing became frenzied and sloppy, Cillian reached down for your clit.

‘Oh god, oh god yes’ you groaned as you wanted to cum again so badly.

But you also wanted to feel him cum as, simply, the thought of him filling you with his cum drove you crazy. There was something about it, something naughty and forbidden.

‘Cum inside me Cillian. I want to feel you cum inside me’ you moaned and your words alone caused Cillian to gasp and groan all at the same time.

‘Fuck, say this again’ Cillian groaned as you were falling into infinity once more, this time with him close behind you.

‘I want your cum inside my pussy’ you blurted out, almost surprised by your own profanity and it was obvious to you that Cillian enjoyed some good dirty talk.

‘Y/N, fuck’ Cillian groaned again as he slammed his cock into you. Your legs were quivering once again as you came for a third time and your tight walls began to clench hard around his cock, milking him.

With one final thrust and a loud groan, Cillian finally stilled, pushing himself into you as far as he could get and, just as you felt the warmth of his cum flooding your insides, you moaned again.

‘Oh god yes’ you moaned as you felt him throb and pulsate inside you, spilling his cum into you before taking in a sharp breath.

‘Jesus’ he then huffed out, still panting as, slowly and carefully, he pulled out of you, causing a large amount of his cum to spill from you and onto the sheets.

You could certainly feel it too and, when you collapsed onto the bed and turned around to face him, an almost elvish grin escaped you.

‘This was something else’ you panted from exhaustion as you could still feel his cum leaking from you, turning you on all over again. But there was no way you would be able to have sex again any time soon after this three-hour session with Cillian.

‘This was amazing. I don’t think I had sex as good in like a decade’ Cillian huffed out before collapsing next to you.

‘Oh common. I am sure you had plenty of women with way more experience than me’ you said teasingly since Cillian was really only the third man you had ever slept with.

‘Well, this was actually my first one-night stand in about 25 years as, just like you, I never usually trust anyone enough to go down this route’ Cillian chuckled before realising that this may just have made him sound old. ‘Want to go again?’ he then asked jokingly to brush over his admission and you shook your head.

‘Cillian, you fucked me for three hours straight. I never thought that this was even possible and I honestly don’t think I could take any more. In fact, I can tell that I will have sore muscles tomorrow’ you giggled before drawing Cillian close for a kiss.

‘You should have a warm bath then. It will make your muscles relax’ Cillian suggested and the sound of a warm bath did, indeed, sound very good.

‘Are you going to have one with me?’ you asked, causing Cillian to nod.

‘I don’t see why not’ he then said before jumping up and filling the bathtub with some hot water.

***

Minutes later Cillian and you sank into the hot bath water and you rested your head against his chest while his arms wrapped around you and began to soap up your breasts and stomach.

‘There…now you are relaxed’ Cillian whispered, realising that you were no longer covering up your scars.

‘Because you made me feel beautiful, sexy and desired’ you said shyly, causing Cillian to kiss you neck and nibble on your earlobe briefly.

‘That is because you are beautiful and sexy and I desired to be with you, probably for a bit longer than you realise’ Cillian admitted in a quiet whisper into your ear.

‘Oh, is that right? You wanted to do this for a while, did you?’ you teased and Cillian couldn’t help but chuckle.

‘Since the night I met you at Cian’s birthday party. But I felt fucking guilty about it and would never have acted upon my desire to have you, even just that once’ Cillian told you.

‘Because I am Cian’s sister? Frankly, I don’t think he would care much’ you said.

‘That and the fact that you are so much younger than me Y/N. I shouldn’t have wanted you’ Cillian explained.

‘Age is just a number Cillian. I don’t think it matters much when you are attracted to each other’ you said before tilting your head slightly and kissing him.

‘Do you regret it?’ you then asked after your lips drifted apart.

‘Sleeping with you?’ Cillian asked, causing you to nod. ‘No, do you?’ he then asked.

‘No. I truly believe that we needed to get this out of our system’ you confirmed, causing Cillian to laugh.

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[alienheartattack]

Sweet Revenge (Inexorable AU)

Word Count: 2260 words

Rating: E. They fuck. It’s dope. Don’t read if you’re underage or have objections to explicit adult content.

Summary: Levi and Mikasa have a feud at the school bake sale and decide to get revenge on their PTA nemesis.

Notes: For non-US readers, PTA stands for parent-teacher association, where parents volunteer at their children’s schools to get involved in the school’s activities and influence the quality of their child’s education, usually through fundraisers and other events.

This story takes place 8-9 years after the events of Inexorable and about 2 years after the events of the other Inexorable AU fics, A Scream in the Night and A Minor Dispute About Rain. The only thing you really need to know if you haven’t read those is that Levi and Mikasa have a daughter named Anya, who is basically a grumpy mini Levi, in addition to Hana.

The only thing keeping Levi from running after the PTA president and giving her a hefty piece of his mind is Mikasa’s grip, firm and insistent, on the hem of his sweater.

“You’re going to stretch it out,” Levi snaps at his wife, redirecting his ire at the closest target. Mikasa idly caresses the swell of her belly with one hand and looks at him with one eyebrow raised, silently asking if he wants to argue with his pregnant wife in public.

“I’ll let you go when I’m confident you’re not going to track Joanne down and scream in her face,” she says calmly. “As much as I’d like to see that.”

“She fucking begged us to help out at this bake sale and now she’s just gonna call our lemon bars basic?! We’re not goddamn pastry chefs!”

“Levi, listen to yourself. You sound legitimately insane.”

He sighs, letting his shoulders drop as the tension and rage starts to leave his body. Mikasa releases his sweater and he collapses into his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. She joins him, gingerly lowering herself onto the uncomfortable metal folding chair provided by the school.

“I hate this so much. I hate Joanne, I hate being on the PTA, and I absolutely fucking hate bake sales,” he huffs.

"Well, we’re stuck here for the evening. I don’t want to be here either but I’m trying to make the most of it. Mikasa picks up a lemon bar and takes a huge bite. "Besides, fuck Joanne. These are good.”

Levi motions for Mikasa to give him a bite. “Fuck Joanne,” he agrees through a mouthful of pastry and curd.

Thankfully business picks up after that, and Levi and Mikasa spend the next half hour handing out lemon bars to parents and kids, ignoring Joanne hovering around them and observing their dealings with a disdainful eye. When the rush clears, she slowly approaches their table, pretending to be browsing. They both clock her gaze drifting over their mostly empty dish of lemon bars and the small twitch at the corner of her mouth that telegraphs her dissatisfaction with the Ackermans’ success. Triumphant, they share a brief glance, another silent Fuck Joanne.

To their dismay, she approaches Mikasa, staring at her oversized t-shirt dress. “Bun in the oven,” Joanne reads, her cold eyes sweeping over the looped script printed across Mikasa’s abdomen, decorated with a drawing of a smiling roll baking away. “Oh, you’re pregnant, sweetie! Congratulations!” There’s sweetness in her voice, but it’s tinged with venom. Mikasa knows it all too well.

“Thanks,” she mutters, bracing herself for the backhanded part of Joanne’s compliment.

“I thought you’d just let yourself go, but it’s a blessing instead! What a relief!” She laughs uproariously at her own joke. Levi jams his hands into the pockets of his jeans, balling them into tight fists so Joanne can’t see how enraged he is. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

Mikasa does not answer, instead focusing her energy on keeping a straight face while she contemplates murder. Levi can sense her tensing up, her shoulders stiffening, fury radiating from her body in waves.

“It’s a boy,” he cuts in curtly. “We’ve already got our two girls.”

“Your oldest isn’t—” Joanne’s voice drops to a near-whisper— “yours, though, is she?”

Levi narrows his eyes, no longer interested in hiding his annoyance. “She’s mine. I’ve helped raise her since she was a baby.”

“Oh, how sweet. What a modern family,” she gushes, cooing with an edge of condescension in her voice. “Well, congratulations.” She then turns and walks off, conveniently waving to someone across the room.

“Are you okay?” Levi asks Mikasa in a low voice once Joanne is out of earshot. Mikasa stares after her, eyes black with rage, her breath hissing through clenched teeth. She doesn’t need to say anything; he already knows the answer is no.

He places a reassuring hand on the back of her neck, massaging her nape the way she does to him when he’s stressed and ranting. “Tell you what, I’ll go out to the car and grab something sharp, we slice Joanne’s Achilles tendons and then get the hell out of here.”

“What? No!” She looks over at him, her expression disgusted and exasperated. “You have to stop watching gore movies with Hana. She’s barely ten.”

“She loves them! We were watching some zombie bullshit the other day and that little monster laughed while watching a guy get his guts ripped out and eaten. I’m pretty sure she’s gonna grow up to be a serial killer.”

Mikasa rolls her eyes. “Well, if she is, she gets it from Eren’s side of the family.” Even though he’s still angry on his wife’s behalf, Levi can’t help but chuckle at that.

“Fucking Joanne,” he grumbles. “If zombies ate her guts they’d spit them back out. Her kid’s an asshole, too.” Mikasa is well aware of that fact: Joanne’s son tried bullying Anya at the beginning of the school year, calling her a midget and pulling her hair until she had enough and whacked him in the face with her math textbook. That was Levi and Mikasa’s first run-in with Joanne before they joined the PTA, and things have only gone downhill since.

A few more kids approach the table, hesitant due to Levi’s scowl; Mikasa shutters her anger behind a calm facade and handles the sales, though she doesn’t say much.

When the latest wave of customers leaves, she turns to her husband. “I think I have an idea to make both of us feel better.”

A look of skepticism crosses his face. “Really? I was kinda hoping for that severed Achilles tendon.”

Mikasa facepalms; she’s had years to grow accustomed to her husband’s awkwardness and his awful jokes, but sometimes he still manages to surprise her. Ironically it only makes her love him more, this odd, cranky man who might literally kill for her.

“Joanne parked next to us, right?” she asks.

“Yeah, remember? I said her car looks like the physical embodiment of vaginal dryness and you laughed so hard you peed a little.”

“You really didn’t have to mention that last part.”

“I dunno, it gives the story flavor. Pee flavor.”

“Look, I have an idea. Get someone to take the rest of the lemon bars, then meet me in the parking lot. If anyone asks, I’m not feeling well and you need to take me home.”

Levi sighs. “What are you planning?”

Mikasa leans in close to him, her lips millimeters from his ear. “Meet me outside and you’ll see,” she purrs.

Five minutes later he bursts through the metal doors at the back of the school to see her sitting on the hood of Joanne’s car, an aggressively beige sedan.

“Come here,” she beckons him. He approaches her and, when he is within reach, she grabs his shirt and pulls him to her. Their lips collide awkwardly before settling into the familiar rhythm of their kissing, slow and deep.

After a few moments, he pulls away. “What is going on here?”

“Revenge,” she says. “I want you to fuck me on the hood of Joanne’s car.”

He ponders the suggestion for a moment, then smiles — and then a giggle escapes his mouth, a sound somewhere between bewilderment and glee, then another, then another.

“Aw, come on, don’t laugh. I thought it’d be fun.” She frowns, embarrassment heating and coloring her cheeks.

“No, no,” he says once he’s able to control his laughter. “I fucking love it.” He kisses her fiercely, growling deep in his throat. “I fucking love you.” Mikasa smiles, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him close. There’s some maneuvering involved in getting her underwear off, her round belly making the whole process somewhat unwieldy; Levi stuffs them in his pocket then gets down on the concrete, kneeling before her.

“Are you serious?” she squeals, trying to look at him over the curve of her stomach.

“If anyone asks, tell them you went into labor and I’m checking how far along you are.” With a low laugh he gets to work, nuzzling her pussy before licking a firm stroke along her seam. Mikasa bites her lip and lets out a shaky anticipatory breath in the brief moment before Levi lavishes attention on her clit, massaging it with his lips and tongue. She gasps when he pulls away from her a few minutes later, halfway to orgasm and disappointed not to get there.

“We need to be fast,” he says in lieu of an apology, undoing his pants and pulling out his half-hard cock, pumping it a few times in his fist. “I’ll finish you off at home.”

“You’d better,” she replies, a playful threat.

Levi settles himself between her legs then enters her with no warning or fanfare save the soft moan they both make, a low noise of contentment, of wholeness. They have always been a fearsome team, first as colleagues, then lovers, now spouses and parents, and their lovemaking is no different, each of them able to discern angles and positions from sighs, from grunts, from the furrow of a brow or the touch of a hand. Tonight Mikasa slides her hands down Levi’s back, skating over the soft brushed cashmere of his sweater, telling him that she wants him to be gentle with her — for now, anyway. Joanne’s comment must have stung, he thinks, and he resolves to show her exactly how beautiful he thinks she is, pregnant or not. There’s a certain earthy, ephemeral beauty in her pregnant body, something attractive and incredibly arousing about the thought of her creating and building life even as she sits next to him selling lemon bars at a school bake sale. He loves the way her hard edges have softened, the pleasing new fullness in her cheeks, the luminous glow that seems to emanate from within her.

(He has learned since her last pregnancy not to mention that he also loves the growing size of her breasts, and in return Mikasa only rebukes him for staring when he’s open-mouthed and practically drooling.)

Mikasa’s eyes flutter closed as Levi rocks against her, a gentle motion that makes the car bounce in time with his thrusts. A bubble of laughter escapes her lips.

“What’s that for?” he asks with a smile, then kisses her before she can answer.

“I love you so much,” she says against his mouth. “And fuck Joanne.”

Levi stops moving; Mikasa cocks her head, silently asking him what’s wrong. “Don’t say that bitch’s name when I’m inside you.”

“Look, do you want to revenge-fuck me or not?” She isn’t sure if that’s a word, but during sex, when they’re heated and frantic for each other, even Levi’s crude come-ons sound like poetry, so maybe this will work.

It does. “You want me to revenge-fuck you?” he growls, slapping his hips against hers with a rough thrust. She whimpers at the impact, a wave of pleasure rippling through her body.

“Yeah,” she pants. “Show me how angry you are.”

He makes a low hum of approval; though he’s become more proficient at sweet talk and romance in the years he’s been with Mikasa, he tends to favor sex as intense as his personality, grasping hands and heavy eye contact. Mikasa has never seemed to mind though sometimes, like tonight, she needs him to make love to her first.

Levi fucks her hard and fast, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the cool night, her cunt making obscene liquid noises around his cock. Even through the delicious haze of their passion they’re listening out for footsteps, for cars, for the creak of doors opening.

“We should finish soon,” Mikasa pants.

“I’m close.” He slows his pace, grinding against her, sinking into her as deep as he can go, before pulling back and scything into her slick heat again and again, harder and harder, muttering curses and endearments and wordless sounds of effort and desire.

And then he thrusts into Mikasa so roughly that her ass hits the hood of Joanne’s car hard, triggering the car alarm, horn blaring and lights flashing.

“Shit!” Levi yelps, startled by the sudden noise. He jumps back from her, stuffing his stiff, aching cock back in his pants and undoing the fly with adrenaline-shaky fingers.

“We gotta go!” She hops down from the car, landing unsteadily on her feet, pulling her dress down over her nudity. “Do you have the keys?” She scrambles over to their car, pulling at the handle of the locked passenger door. “Come on!”

Levi reaches in his pocket for the key fob, mashing the buttons so the doors unlock and the ignition turns on. Mikasa clambers into the car as fast as she can, slamming the door behind her, and Levi follows soon after. Through the windshield she can see someone coming to locate the source of the commotion and chants, “Drive! Drive!” at Levi while he clicks his seatbelt into place.

“Seatbelt!” he barks at her and she complies, fear and arousal and adrenaline making her feel jittery and giggly and wonderfully alive. Levi remains stoic, but there’s a devilish glee playing at the corners of his lips: he’s enjoying himself just as much as she is. He backs their car out of the parking spot with the precision of a stunt driver and peels off, speeding off into the night seconds before Joanne comes outside to investigate the shrieking car alarm and the strange ass-shaped dent on her hood.

#rivamika #alienheartattack writes #this fic has been in the works for YEARS and i've only managed to finish it today #if you dig through my blog there's a headcanon about this #it's good to be back! #i am working on other prompts - y'all really want some cottagecore arranged marriage stuff #the only arranged marriage AU I have in my head is dark af but I'll probably write it anyway #and I do have an old cottagecore postcanon fic idea i might be able to use #am I just procrastinating writing my novel? probably #btw if you want to know about that plz drop me an ask #i am 165k words in and it's still not done #and yes it is smutty and romantic

[nutty1005]

“A Dream Like A Dream” Fan Review Report by 十月息

Original Article: https://weibo.com/6574125081/KcrfzBjYL?type=comment#_rnd1619312989712 Original Author: 十月息

(TN: This is the translation of the famous 10,000 character repo on Weibo, so be warned that this is very long article. Permission to translate granted by OP.)

Part 1 – Review of Xiao Zhan’s Acting According to the Script

Finding Patient No. 5 B

At the start of the play, there were many people surrounding the stage, I was very frantically searching for Xiao Zhan. One of the ladies besides me patted me and said, that one with the messenger bag! After that I immediately found him. His legs were really long! So, at the start of the play, watch out for the messenger bag! (That was the look in the waiting photo.) After this, I was following him around using my binoculars, hahaha.

Patient No. 5 and His Wife’s Initial Encounter

This part was very interesting. No. 5 was queuing behind his wife, then still a stranger, and buying movie tickets, and his wife had an argument with her then lover on the phone, and rashly stuffed her other movie ticket and grilled corn cob into No. 5’s hands. When handed the movie ticket, No. 5 was still able to comprehend, but after he was given the corn cob, he was starting to get confused — Xiao Zhan’s No. 5 widened his eyes, stared at the corn cob in his hand, and then turned around and looked around, looked at the people queuing behind him. In the next second, the 7 or 8 people behind him magically took out their own corn cob, as though getting a corn cob at the movies was a perfectly normal thing to do, and if No. 5 did not have one he would be out of place. There was full comedic effect, the whole theater laughed, No. 5 was embarrassed as he turned around and entered the cinema holding the corn cob. Starting from here, we could see that No. 5’s body language had completely corresponded with that of a comedic trope, it was relaxed and lively, and even when he met with unexpected situations, it was clumsily adorable.

Patient No. 5 Eating Sushi with His Wife

This segment was at the stage left, which also happened to be my visual blind spot, so I could only see the projection from the big screen, which was very regrettable. His wife said the the person she just argued with on the phone was a pig, and she did not want to talk about it, so when No. 5 mentioned that person, he used snorting to represent him, “…. that *snort snort*…”, that snorting was in imitation of a pig, it was really too cute! Xiao Zhan had also snorted in “Our Song”, here, No. 5’s snorting was even more lively, to the point that I was stunned, took 2 seconds to react in my brain that, oh my goodness that was actually Xiao Zhan snorting! It was simply too cute!!

His wife had squeezed a large amount of wasabi on the sushi, No. 5 said “no one puts so much wasabi”, (TN: Chinese had their own term for wasabi, jiemo, but Xiao Zhan used the Japanese term instead), I really loved it when he used languages other than Chinese, I just felt that it encompassed so much cuteness, moreover it was with the Taiwanese accent that belonged to No. 5, it was even more adorable. Both of them ate that wasabi laced sushi, and coughed wildly due to the irritation, Xiao Zhan was coughing so vigorously, by the sound of it I thought he was going to cough out his lungs, just exactly as though he really ate a huge amount of wasabi. But amazingly, his voice was exceptionally clear while coughing, perhaps because his voice for lines had became deeper more robust, in comparison, he did not deliberately deepen his voice while coughing, so he sounded literally like a young man.

No. 5 continued to chat with his wife, in this conversation, No. 5’s Taiwanese accent was even more obvious, which once again became part of my adorable collection of “Xiao Zhan’s various accents”, I was quietly punching the air in my mind!

His wife told him that she had never seen her father before, and she was unable to face him, No. 5 then told his wife to close her eyes and give it a try, she was initially unwilling, No. 5 coaxed her gently, and then she closed her eyes. Thereafter, No. 5 started talking in a old man’s voice deliberately, “My girl! Turn around and look at Papa! Papa owed you too much, forgive Papa, I’ve also missed you terribly! My good child! Papa bought a very beautiful doll to meet you!” Everyone could attempt to see how you would sound like when you talk in an older voice deliberately, it would definitely be quite funny, when Xiao Zhan acted it live, it was even more funny, the audiences laughed heartily. What made me even more excited was that this was the only the beginning of No. 5’s story, but I had already heard Xiao Zhan snorting like a pig, Xiao Zhan speaking Japanese, Xiao Zhan coaxing people, Xiao Zhan talking like an old man, I felt as though I was exploring all the different voices of Xiao Zhan! When Xiao Zhan spoke like an old man, it was also very cute!

Almost forgot a very important point, that is from this old man act and the snorting previously, we could actually see that No. 5 was very good at flirting, and it was the sort that was very natural and well practiced! In the instant as he acted as an old man, besides laughing with the audiences, I also thought in envy, good job young man, you are flirting again and again! I just had to say this, Xiao Zhan’s No. 5 was really very charming in and out.

Patient No. 5 Begging The Doctor to Save His Child

This part seemed ordinary based on the script, but you would only feel the amazement when watching it live! When looking at the script, it seemed like only the wife was begging the doctor, but in fact I remembered that it was his wife who stood further away from the doctor as she carried the child, No. 5 was beside the doctor, just like the stage photo shared by XZ Studio. His wife was more emotional from start till end, No. 5 was initially more calm, and even looked back to signal his wife to calm down. But later on as the doctor kept rejecting him, No. 5 started to lose the controlled calmness on the surface: he turned around and kneeled before the doctor, begging pitifully, his voice full of hurt and pain, with an agonizing crying tone. In here, his emotional progression to explosive was not that long, but it was very excellent, that moment he was just a father of a child, with an unbearable pain of loss on his shoulders. The doctor continued to refuse, No. 5 said no more, and the whole theater went silent.

Patient No. 5 Getting His Wife to Pick Up the Phone

After the child passed away, the relationship between No. 5 and his wife drifted apart, and No. 5 contacted that strange disease. At the same time, he started receiving calls in the middle of the night, but no one spoke after he picked up. There was one night, it was rare that No. 5 was at home with his wife, and he picked up that call again. No. 5 yelled into the receiver for a long time but yet no one replied, so he yelled at it, “I’m going to fight it out with you… after all, the telephone fee’s on you!” His tone was incensed, but yet the words he used were exceptionally funny, it was supposed to be a scary suspense story, but it wore the cape of a comedy.

The lines following that were similar. No. 5 finally yelled at the receiver, “Fine, I’m done playing with you today!” Till then it was still quite normal, but unexpectedly before he hung up he suddenly yelled another line: “Good! Night!” This type of contrast continued to add comedic colors to the play, because No. 5 was actually speaking harshly, but in the end he still politely said good night, but yet that good night was still harsh and irate. I believed that no matter how unclear the image of No. 5 was in the audiences’ hearts, in this moment they would definitely feel that No. 5 had a cuteness stemming from the contrast in his personality, he was interesting, cute and lively.

I feel that this was something that was hard to control in performance. On a whole, “A Dream Like A Dream” was a very serious and standard play, and would occasionally use comedic tropes to balance the heavy keynote. Hence when actors were performing, they had to say those random lines in a serious tone, and if done too lightly, the audiences would not feel that it was funny, but if done too heavily, it would destroy the pace of the story. Whereas Xiao Zhan’s performance was simply just right, it allowed audiences to easily understand the funny bits, but yet it did not breakaway from the general tone of the story. I remembered when we studied or appreciated ancient poems in high school, there was this term called “using lively music to contrast sorrow”, in fact “A Dream Like A Dream” was like this. The more amusing the funny parts were, after the audiences were done laughing and continued to immerse themselves in the story, the heavier they would feel.

Following this was the part, which Xiao Zhan angrily yelled at his wife to pick up the call, that many reports had mentioned. There was actually a progression, the script as below, the parts in parenthesis was how I remembered it was acted out:

No. 5: It's your turn to pick it up. (His tone was quite calm）

His Wife: What for do I pick it up? No. 5: It could be for you. (He was starting to raise his voice)

His Wife: How could that be?

No. 5: Secret lover! You should pick it up. (You could hear the anger)

His Wife: Why?

No. 5: Because it is yours. (His tone had already went from questioning to factual) Every time he calls, not long after, you would return, I think he hasn't finished talking to you. (This looked like narration, but in fact when Xiao Zhan said this he was speaking hastily, already at the brink of exploding, his voice was very loud, and was starting to ring in the audiences' ears. In reality when someone hears a tone like this, we would subconsciously avoid it, as we feel that this person would explode the very next second.) You pick it up. (I was starting to shake)

His Wife: For what? It's not mine. (I was starting to fear for his wife, I mean was this not adding oil to the fire? Please don't... I was praying this in my heart, because the very next moment, lightning was going to strike!)

No. 5: PICK IT UP! [TN: The word used was a single syllable, jie.]

Just that word, the tone was so harsh, I could say that I have never encountered this in my life; the sound was so loud, it almost deafened me, the word was echoing within the hall, and gave me a feeling that when Xiao Zhan yelled out this word, he was also resonating with it. My father’s temper was not that good, and he would yell at me when I was a child, his voice was loud enough, but I actually felt that it was not as loud as a third of Xiao Zhan’s. Not only the voice was loud, the tone was very fierce, so fierce that if he was your boss, you would have kneeled before him, if he was one of your peers, you would have felt weakness in my legs and could not even run away if you wanted to. At that time in the theater, I was truly frightened, I felt as though my heart had frozen in my chest, and then there were palpitations, I felt as though all the yelling I had received previously were not worth mentioning. The whole theater definitely had a fright, because after Xiao Zhan yelled it, the whole theater was silent, not just ordinary silence when watching a play, but even the sounds of breathing stopped, the air was scarily quiet.

Patient No. 5 Searching for His Wife among the Passersby

No. 5 and his wife went to watch another movie, just like how they first met. When queuing, his wife went out to pick up a call, and suddenly disappeared, No. 5 started searching for her everywhere. Over here as well, I did not feel that it was very emotional when reading the script, No. 5 was like going through the process of looking for his wife, but when I actually watched the performance, it was another of Xiao Zhan’s highlight.

No. 5 was holding onto the grilled corn cob, and grabbed hold of a passerby, asked, “Sorry, can I ask if you saw my wife?” but this passerby did not hear him. No. 5 continued to run forward, the other passersby were stoic and slow, No. 5 frantically walked through them and seemed especially out of place. He grabbed the next passerby, continued asking, “Excuse me, did you see my wife?” The passerby continued to ignore him. I don’t know how to explain this specifically, as these two lines were similar, but the emotions in No. 5 was obviously changing, the sense helplessness and breakdown that was transmitted through his tone and his body language completely grabbed the hearts of the audiences.

No. 5 continued to grab passersby, asked, “Sorry, did anyone see a lady holding two grilled corn cobs? Her hair is slightly yellow, she’s very pretty, her eyes are very big…” “Excuse me, did you see my wife? She’s of mixed race, she never saw her father, our child died, she’s very upset… I’m really not feeling well… did anyone see?” I believe that even if I did not describe Xiao Zhan’s tone, we could see from the lines that No. 5 had already went from precise questioning to emotional rambling, the lines contained family background information unrelated to the search. In the final questioning, he was already in crying tones.

After countless of his question left ignored, No. 5 finally despaired, he stopped in his tracks, broke down and shouted, “Did anyone see my wife?! She just bought two grilled corn cobs!!!” This howl completely used all his strength and was even hysterical, it was filled with helplessness, despair and utter collapse. This lines actually contained comedy, since who would have brought up grilled corn cob at this point in time? But No. 5 did, and this was similar to what I said previously about “using lively music to contrast sorrow”, the more ridiculous the trope was, the better the contrast could highlight the sorrow in the reality, and in reality most of the tragedies did not happen like a Shakespearean story, but accumulated from the smallest and most ridiculous things.

In comparison to the doctor scene, I felt that this No. 5 broke my heart even more… Because he asked different people again and again, but he was ignored and tossed aside, bit by bit, he despaired and broke down… He used all of his strength but he could not do anything, except cry and howl helplessly…

Patient No. 5 and Jiang Hong at the Laundromat

This was a completely propless performance, with the exception of a laundry basket, there was no props, so Xiao Zhan was performing with the air as he opened the washing machine, took his clothes, folded them and placed them in the laundry basket. But his movements were very natural and ordinary, it was not deliberate, you could understand what he was doing with a look, i.e. that sequence of actions I mentioned previously. The way he folded (air) clothes was very cute, and there was the part that he did not know how to use the washing machine, and was poking poking poking at the air, that was also super cute! Haha.

Patient No. 5 at Jiang Hong’s Apartment

After No. 5 caught his disease, his posture, etc, had started displaying the weakness of his illness, Xiao Zhan very accurately portrayed this point, no matter whether it was his walking speed or his hunched back, as well was occasional coughing and panting, constantly reminded audiences that No. 5 was a terminal patient with not many days left. However in comparison to these, what best displayed No. 5’s illness was when he went up the staircase to Jiang Hong’s apartment, Jiang Hong stayed on the 7th floor, every time No. 5 went upstairs it felt like an ordeal and a massive challenge, he kept holding onto the handrails (which of course did not exist, there were no staircases onstage, he was acting with air), he would rest every 2 steps, panting, and made us feel that No. 5’s health was rapidly leaving his body.

After this was basically the envy inciting scene of the whole play. Jiang Hong’s apartment was very small, No. 5 could only sit on her bed. So we slowly watched how No. 5 and Jiang Hong got closer and closer… Amitabha. I do not want to describe it in detail, ｡･ﾟﾟ･(>д<)･ﾟﾟ･｡. There was this part that was very cute, Jiang Hong said, “No other person ever lived in this space. When I first moved in there wasn’t even space to have a cat, but now there’s a man, when he lies down, he uses up the whole bed.” After the line ended, Xiao Zhan basically laid on the bed in a 大 shape, instantly occupying the whole bed, both of his legs even extended beyond the bed. The audiences laughed at that moment, and I also directly understood even more that Xiao Zhan is really tall! Big sized! Before that when Xiao Zhan curled on his side on the bed, he was still very big.

Patient No. 5 and Jiang Hong’s Couple Details

It was not that moment of intimacy that made me envious, but it was the continued subconscious intimacy that really made me envious. No. 5 and Jiang Hong became a couple, they were like they had been together for a very long time, the intimacy was natural and well practiced. When she and No. 5 walked together, he would hold her hands; when they stood side by side, he would hold her waist; when they spoke face to face he would look down at her, very focused on her eyes, as though only she existed in the world, and would also gently stroke the back of her head, or smooth her hair; sometimes No. 5 would even slightly adjust her collar… etc, every detail was exceptionally natural.

When No. 5 and Jiang Hong went to see a gypsy with spiritual powers, that person told No. 5 to look at the crystal ball like how he would look at his lover, No. 5 turned around, looked up and looked lovingly at Jiang Hong standing behind him, saying coquettishly, “Yup, looking at my lover,” just like a willful boy in his first relationship who is unable to leave his lover. In that moment I became extremely envious.

Patient No. 5 and Jiang Hong at Normandy

This section is completely No. 5’s highlight!

At the start in the town’s hotel, the Grandpa gave No. 5 a flower circlet, No. 5 took it and placed it on his head. This was just right on stage left, which was my blind spot, I could only see it from the blurry screen, I was so angry and regretful! I could only imagine Tang San wearing the flower circlet, when Xiao Zhan wore it live it would definitely look a lot better, I could not see that with my own eyes, that was the biggest regret of my life ｡･ﾟﾟ･(>д<)･ﾟﾟ･｡.

When entering the hotel, the receptionist said it was 1,550 Francs per night, Jiang Hong immediately felt that it was too expensive and tugged No. 5, but No. 5 was instead very relaxed and yet unyielding as he said, “It’s almost the same, it’s all this price! It’s reasonable!” “No matter, I want it, I’m paying.” And then he pulled Jiang Hong into the hotel. That time I could only think, good job dude, that was how an unreasonable boss trope should be like!

No. 5 and Jiang Hong went to have a meal in the hotel, but however the rule of the restaurant was formal wear, but both No. 5 and Jiang Hong were in casual wear, so the host gave No. 5 a tie, No. 5 was to wear the tie and take a seat. In the script, it was No. 5 who tied his own tie, but in Xiao Zhan’s version, he did not continue to tie it himself, instead he raised his chin and leaned his neck over, signaling Jiang Hong to tie for him. My goodness, this part was seriously too sweet, I started complaining in my heart at this dude ｡･ﾟﾟ･(>д<)･ﾟﾟ･｡… I am not sure if everyone watched a behind-the-scenes from “Superstar Academy”, where Xiao Zhan finished a drink (or tidbits, I cannot remember), and he just waved the cup in his hand, requesting the co-actress beside him to take it, and then the actress simply took it. His sort of natural ability to influence the opposite gender really makes me fall head over heels for him.

No. 5 and Jiang Hong were mistaken for Japanese, the two of them went back to their room and started conversing in synthetic Japanese, this was really No. 5 at the peak of his cuteness!!! No. 5 gave Jiang Hong a gentlemanly bow, and said “Hi!” in Japanese accent multiple times, the tone was both serious and flippant at the same time. No. 5 also said “Ah li ga duo” for arigatou. When No. 5 was describing guns to the French waitress, he use the onomatopoeia “Bang bang!”, with finger guns action, super cute. He also said “Duo La A Mong” for Doraemon, “Sa yo na la” for sayonara, and most select phrases mentioned in countless reports were “Ka wa yi” for kawaii and “Da me da me” for dame dame, these phrases did not exist in the script, they were basically his own creation. My description of that scene was basically like this:

When he said “Ka wa yi”, he placed his palms on his cheeks like a flower shape, and dragged the “yi” sound, the tone was slightly coquettish; when he said “Da me da me”, he swished his hands around (similar to a orchestra conductor), his tone was coquettish but also lilting.

After he said these two phrases, the audiences were no longer calm, many of them were sniffing in envy and these sounds filled the hall. I almost fainted at the spot, blanked out and stared at the ceiling, wondering how lucky I was to be able to hear Xiao Zhan said “Da me”, and in a coquettish manner, who was I where was I, I must had been dreaming.

No. 5 also told Jiang Hong “Ah yi xi tie lu”, which was “I love you” in Japanese. This phrase in Japanese is actually very formal, because in normal circumstances, the Japanese would use “suki” to confess their affection, which meant “I like you”, “I love you” was very rare. Then No. 5 placed his arms on Jiang Hong’s shoulders and hugged her, looked lovingly down at her eyes, his expression full of emotion and tease, and said every syllable with a pause “Ah, yi, xi, tie, lu”. That moment I hated myself, I wondered why I had to understand Japanese, why!

Following this is another highlight of No. 5, when he was mistaken as an artist he gave a speech in the restaurant, in the script, there was this big segment of lines, it was slightly different from what Xiao Zhan said in the play, but in general it was the same:

"From that day when a disease that I don't recognize found me, everything changed. I had no choice! Did I know this virus? Why did it come to me? I don't know. But it just came! Just like you said that until now there are still children in Cambodia with a missing limb due to mines! The war had already ended for 25 years! Who placed the mines? Did he know that child? Where did such great hatred came from, that you had to blow up someone you didn't know? How different am I from that child? He is just like you and I, that one day, standing under the sun, standing on the road, and suddenly, bang! It's over! The 'freedom' we yell about everyday is just bullshit! How could we have choices?!..."

I felt that I had to type out this section in full because I felt that Xiao Zhan’s live performance had to be appreciated with this section. Frankly speaking, when I first saw the original script, I felt that here, No. 5 was just someone who was very adaptable to the sudden situations, able to talk his way out, so I did not really look into the contents of this section. At that point in time, there were people who also posted this part online, but I felt that it was making a mountain out of a molehill when we place Xiao Zhan’s personal experiences along side it, No. 5 appeared to be making up a speech without much deeper meaning. When I saw Xiao Zhan himself performing this part, I realized that I was too flippant then: Xiao Zhan really had the ability to help his audience empathize, when he said this section, it felt as though every word struck my heart, as though there were other hidden meanings, especially when he said these two lines “Where did such great hatred came from, that you had to blow up someone you didn’t know?” and “The ‘freedom’ we yell about everyday is just bullshit!”, I really had instant flashbacks to the unpleasant memories of 2020… I always felt that hardship is just hardship, there is never a need for us to be thankful to it, but I had to admit, for Xiao Zhan to walk to this stage, he had went through the trials and tribulations of hardship.

Patient No. 5 and Gu Xianglan’s Kiss

In the script there were no kissing scenes between Young Patient No. 5 B and Young Gu Xianglan (by Xu Qing), i.e. the video clip that was posted by Yanghua Theatre on the 22nd. So that day, the last scene of the upper half, everyone exclaimed (of course, a big part of it was that no one guessed that there would be other kissing scenes besides that with Jiang Hong). In the video clip, No. 5 and Gu Xianglan walked slowed to each other, their shadows overlapped, their faces slowly overlapping into a kiss, it told a story, and that sense was even stronger when watched live. Just that the live performance did not have the later half of the clip, that is after they kissed they slowly separated, during live the two of them kissed using the trick of positioning and then the lights dimmed, and with that, the upper half ended.

No. 5 wore a leather jacket with jeans, Gu Xianglan wore cheongsam; No. 5 was from modern Taiwan, Gu Xianglan was from the 1930s Shanghai. So as they slowly moved towards each other face-to-face, there was really the sense that two eras were slowly merging and overlapping, the feeling was very wondrous, almost as though there was a time and space disorder, yet there was also a sense of revolving fate that merged the past and present, East and West, and created this love story that transcended space and time. I had to say that this additional scene was really fantastic, it had such a sense of story and of fate that it could match the scene of 2 different Gu Xianglans walking in the long corridor of illusion and shadow, which would really stir the audiences’ curiosity and wonder.

Hence, I surmised that the script for this tour had made some changes, No. 5 would likely be Baron’s reincarnation, confirmed when the dying Old Gu Xianglan laid on her bed, holding Xiao Zhan’s No. 5 B’s hands, and directly called him “Henry”.

Patient No. 5 on the Hospital Bed

Over here I really wanted to punch myself, I clearly read the script, but yet I forgot that in the second half, the person on the hospital bed would be No. 5 B! I entered the hall early, and I long saw the doctor at the hospital bed aiding the patient’s breathing, but I really did not pay much attention, I was so regretful!! After the show started, No. 5 started talking, the whole hall started to exclaim as they realized that oh dear, that was Xiao Zhan!

Wearing the patient gown, Xiao Zhan seemed even more ill, looked especially frail, weak, and immediately reminded me of Xianxian in the red undergown, I believe when I said this, everyone would have the image in their mind.

Patient No. 5 with the Dying Gu Xianglan

Old Gu Xianglan laid on the hospital bed, Xiao Zhan’s No. 5 sat by it, his left hand had always been on Gu Xianglan’s back, gently patting and soothing Gu Xianglan, never stopped, I had been staring for a long while. I kept feeling that this was especially “Xiao Zhan”, because Xiao Zhan himself is just that gentle and considerate.

Gu Xianglan narrated her story until she was short of breath and passed away, No. 5’s gaze had never left her, and he held her hand. No. 5 was like just like that, quietly watching Gu Xianglan until she passed away, he did not say anything, but his compassionate expression, slightly furrowed brows, exuded a strong sense of unspeakable sorrow gushing out from his body. As I wrote this part, my mind would sometimes flash back to the scene of No. 5 sitting by the bedside, and suddenly I would feel like weeping.

Patient No. 5 Reading a Letter at Jiang Hong’s Apartment

No. 5 returned to the apartment where he and Jiang Hong lived, and from under the floorboards he found a letter, he was simply kneeling as he read the letter, and kneeled for a very long time. “Hi, the person with the fever…” As he kneeled there, I could only see his back, and I just kept watching his back, listening to him read the first few lines of the letter and after which Jiang Hong continued, I felt that there was nothing else in my heart, I was very upset, but yet my tears were locked in my eyes. I stared at his pointed toes and the long, long legs in jeans, stared at the hands that were grasping the letter. Once again, No. 5 encountered another separation of a lifetime, and I knew that I was going to bid farewell to him as well.

Before the Passing of Patient No. 5

Here, No. 5 A laid on the bed talking, while Xiao Zhan’s No. 5 B stood around 1m away at the left side of the bed, looking at No. 5 A. Here is the most obvious display of compassion from No. 5, because he stood for a long time, so I kept staring at him — his gaze was gentle and sorrowful, looking at the other version of him lying on the bed almost reaching the end of his life, I wondered what he was thinking of? Xiao Zhan’s eyebrows were especially good looking, I kept thinking that if I studied him from a certain distance, the first thing I would see would be his eyebrows, and that was something I did not think would happen when I looked at him via a video on my mobile phone screen. His eyebrows were just too good at conveying emotion, if it was relaxed I would feel relaxed as well, when it frowned I would feel upset as well. No. 5 kept his brows furrowed, it was melancholy and sorrowful, he did not need to have tears in his eyes, he could convey emotions with his brows.

Finally, No. 5 A stopped breathing, and the light on No. 5 B dimmed, he was slowly consumed by darkness, in that instant I felt as though my heart had been drowned by sorrow, I kept on staring at Xiao Zhan, and unwittingly as I wrote to this point, tears started brimming in my eyes.

Patient No. 5’s A Cappella

The lyrics to the song was like this in the script:

Did anyone, see my face before? I think I remembered, I think I forgot, You used to wander in my dreams; I think I remembered, I think I forgot, I used to sing in your story; I think I remembered, I think I forgot.

At this point, all the actors will take out candles, Gu Xianglan A would ring a bell, all the actors will blow out their candles, and the play ends. I wrote on Weibo that this part wrote a cappella: Xiao Zhan sang it at the end, I was literally shaking. It was clearly a cappella, without any instrumental music or sound effects, but it was particularly ethereal and pleasant. It sounded like I went to a tall and quiet church, and listened to the choir’s singing. His voice came with its own bass. There was really this sense of sanctity, which made you feel as though any stray thoughts would be a blasphemy. I was clearly seated at an elevated location, but spiritually I felt that I was looking up at him. It was almost surreal, a dreamlike illusionary existence.

When I was seated in the hall, I was more excited, because I remembered that there was still the curtain call and gratitude ceremony. Now, reviewing this with the script, I am completely immersed in the sorrowful atmosphere of the script, and as I recall Xiao Zhan’s a cappella, I am now especially upset, and I miss him terribly.

Part 2 – Praising Xiao Zhan from All Different Angles

What Was Xiao Zhan’s Role (DUH)

At the start, No. 5 was an architect, a salary man, as he hurried on the streets, the sense of salary man was really obvious. After he met his wife, he started his flirtation mode, which was a humorous and interesting young man. After he had a child and as he carried that child, he was really like a father, I almost yelled “Daddy” in my heart! After that he fell sick, and no matter where and when, he was able to portray the sense of someone who had an illness.

Xiao Zhan’s Lines

Before the start of the show, Xiao Zhan broadcasted the important notice, his voice was like a newscaster, the XFXs around me could not believe it was him. In the hall, the voice was especially vigorous and magnetic, which was quite different from how he was like in previous interviews, overall it was especially pleasant, it felt like he changed his vocalization method, there was probably more technique into it.

Secondly, his pronunciation was very clear and professional, I could hear every word clearly, and when he was at stage left where I could not see him, I pretended I was listening to a radio show. No. 5 was from Taiwan, hence Xiao Zhan specially spoke with a Taiwanese accent, very natural and very cute. His emotions were very very on point! When he was coquettish his voice slightly lingered, when he yelled it was fierce, when he was sad it was sorrowful… When he was joking, it was as though every sound he made had a smile, when he was stern it was very shocking! “Ka wa yi” and “da me” were my top favorite!

Xiao Zhan’s Body and Face

Xiao Zhan’s No. 5, his back was hunched, he occasionally coughed, and we could see that his style of walking was different from Xiao Zhan’s: No. 5 was ill, he frequently had fevers, and he would tire when he went upstairs. From the play, we could say that we could not see the healthy and strong Xiao Zhan at all, we would only feel that he was No. 5 with a terminal illness, that was acting and character portrayal from in to out. But when he bowed with his back facing me, I still could clearly see the lines from his back muscles pushing against his shirt.

His legs were especially long, his proportions were really extreme, I always felt that humans could not grow like this, did he steal Jianguo’s leg length (No). His face was particularly small, especially when viewed from my distance, it was outstandingly exquisite, as though I could pinch it with just a hand. This hairstyle really showcased his ears, which were pointed, completely elf-like!

Besides his outstanding eyebrows, his nose was also super magnificent! Even if you looked at him from the front you would feel that he really looks very chiseled! Even more so from the side! A miracle of beauty!

From my location, I had a lot of chances to look at his 70% side view, as the light shone on that face, it was like a sculpture, I wondered what kind of divinity would be able to sculpt that: that nose line, that lip and that melancholy eyebrows…

Xiao Zhan’s Compassion

The tone that Xiao Zhan’s No. 5 as a whole gave me as a whole was melancholic, or I could say it was his compassion. Previously, I frequently saw that everyone said that Tang San had a sense of compassion, but I feel that the compassion in No. 5’s aura was superior to Tang San’s. Firstly, he himself had a terminal illness, and then he experienced so many changes, the departure of his family and loved ones. Secondly, the inner aura of No. 5 himself came with a bit of compassion.

I saw at the back row, at times when I used the binoculars, his facial features would be slightly blurry, of course most of the time it was clear, so I always first spot the most obvious, the tightly furrowed eyebrows.

Accompanying that frown would be his exquisite facial features, his eyes, especially the line of his nose, it seemed almost supernatural. Hence I would really relate it to the Greek sculptures, as in their expressions were also solemn, as though they were looking down upon the emotions and pain of the world. And they themselves were the representation of human beauty.

I always felt that the reason why Xiao Zhan’s good looks were well accepted by the masses was because his good looks was universally acceptable.

Of course, for Xiao Zhan’s No. 5 to be able to attain this level of compassion, it not only depended on his innate aura, but even more so, his own hard work, which caused his looks to be able to give off this kind of aura. For example, he became even more thin, such that his cheeks were more protruding, and there were possibly shadows on his cheeks, this would make you feel that, truly, his melancholy and compassion was clearly affecting his body.

His aura, his physical shape, was completely in service of the character.

Xiao Zhan’s Acting Skills

I posted on my Weibo that Xiao Zhan’s No. 5 was very compassionate, and then there were comments asking if it was because of his past experiences, such that he was able to portray this kind of compassion, actually it was not that I did not agree completely, but it was something that I did not even think of.

Why? Because when you watched Xiao Zhan’s dramas and movies, it was the same, when you watched his play life, his performance was even more so — just that he was not deliberately acting, you would feel that he did not use any life experience, or very obviously using his experiences to aid his portrayal in the drama. He was not like this, he would give you a very very natural sensation.

Xiao Zhan’s acting was like spring water, naturally flowing down from the cracks on the hill side, and not like cracking a water pipe, which would come gushing out suddenly, it was not like this. Even if it was an explosive scene, it would also smoothly flow downwards like a waterfall tumbling from the top of a cliff.

Although I say that Xiao Zhan’s acting was very, very natural, so much so that you could not see any trace of deliberation, but in fact this did not mean that this skill came inborn, on the contrary, this acting skill required doubly effort to attain.

My Trance

I don’t know how to explain my feeling: that is when watching the play I would sometimes feel hazy, like I would suddenly break away from the play, and then stare at Xiao Zhan, thinking — wow, this is a real Xiao Zhan, a lively Xiao Zhan, and he’s under the same roof as me in this very second, moving and talking…

And then I would go into that trance.

The Ocean of Flowers in the Courtyard

So romantic, star chasing is so romantic, loving Xiao Zhan is so romantic.

The night of Wuhan, I stayed in the midst of the crowds, outside of my windows were the streaking colors of everyday life.

My heart remained sweet, because I knew that in that very moment, I was sharing the same sky with the one I love.

And yet my heart was weak, as soon as I saw that endless brilliance of red, I would feel that my tears would well up.

Walking through the ocean of flowers, I saw countless adoration, gentleness, admiration, well wishes…

In that second, I was in Wuhan, and I had a romance with No. 5 at the ends of the world.

Appendix: 2013 Version of “A Dream Like A Dream” Behind-The-Scenes Documentary Review

(Written on 23 Mar 2021)

Upper Half

Firstly, the documentary emphasized on its star-studded cast on its very first Mainland China premiere in 2000. Besides the well-known famous actor, there was also a renowned female singer crossing domains, as well as some familiar, well-known actors, such as Tan Zhuo, Xu Qing. Xu Qing was going to continue her role as one of the Gu Xianglans in the upcoming 2021 version of “A Dream Like A Dream”. At the same time I also discovered that Shi Ke was in the 2013 version of “A Dream Like A Dream”, she was the lead actress for Xiao Zhan’s “Heroes in Harm’s Way – Blessed Community”.

In the documentary, besides bringing more attention to this play, the star-studded cast also brought another challenge, because the group’s actors had to spend more than a year to break into this 8 hour play (that time when “A Dream Like A Dream” first came into Mainland China, everything had to be started from scratch, there were a lot to adapt, hence the timeline would be longer, 2021 version had the previous foundation, and therefore did not need this long for preparation), and singers would have to take a few months to prepare for their fan meetings and concerts, television and movie actors would have to take a few months to film their dramas. In rehearsing this play, the actors would have to reject many invitations, their “loss” in revenue could be up to millions or even more.

Xiao Zhan’s rehearsal period for “A Dream Like A Dream” appeared to be an empty period to the external world, but plays truly needed wholehearted participation into practice time.

Director and playwright Lai Shengchuan said, plays are even a greater challenge to these stars, because their capabilities, their acting skills, would be obvious to the audiences after 2 or 3 shows, and this will dictate the success of the play in Mainland China.

Hence for the first entry to Mainland China, all the preparation from all angles had to start from zero, the 2013 version encountered many difficulties in terms of location, props, etc. While the cast attracted a lot of attention, the strict control behind the stage, for example, prop preparation was actually done by a Year 4 Journalism student; the rehearsal initially started in a crude empty factory. Then, the in-charge of Yanghua Theatre, Wang Keran, was the main in-charge for bringing in “A Dream Like A Dream” into Mainland China, he and his team’s office was in a simple 3 bedroom apartment, he directly said that bringing in this play was to raise the influence of plays but he could not bankrupt the backstage, hence cost also had to be tightly controlled.

For the 2021 version, the documentary gave me the most anticipation was the process that in the 2013 version, the actors and the directors went through a lot of breakthrough and recreation process during their rehearsals. While rehearsing, Xu Qing gave a totally opposite view on her role to Lai Shengchuan (on Gu Xianglan’s love to Baron), the understanding and identity from the actors themselves were in fact the most important part to character creation. Finally, Xu Qing’s persistence convinced Lai Shengchuan, who specially added some scenes in Act 9, and allowed the character Gu Xianglan to be more logical. Lai Shengchuan was a renowned Asian Theatre master, “A Dream Like A Dream” was his 3rd script after his 10+ years of experience. Even so, when meeting a brand new acting crew, the script might still display its inadequacy or limitations with the times, etc. At this moment, it would require actors to use their acting experience to improve upon it, and perform character and scene recreation. We could say that, Xu Qing was a good actress who had her own opinions and thoughts, and was persistent about them, Lai Shengchuan was a good director who progressed with the times.

It just so happened today that Xu Qing praised Xiao Zhan, I believe that with my narration on this part, everyone would understand how much weight Xu Qing’s praise carried — there is no praise that is more encouraging than that from a fellow actress who is persistent and serious.

I believe that Xiao Zhan is also a hardworking actor who will seriously analyze his scripts, and have his own opinions and thoughts. Hence, I really look forward to fireworks that Xiao Zhan and “A Dream Like A Dream” would create, as well as the new soul this would bring to the role, Patient No. 5.

Lower Half

Firstly, the documentary introduced the costume designer for “A Dream Like A Dream”, renowned designer, Ye Jintian. Ye Jintian was the costume in-charge for many movies and dramas, the most famous ones were “A Better Tomorrow” and “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon”, he also won the Oscar for Best Costume Design for the latter movie. 2021’s Costume Design Executive was still Ye Jintian. When rehearsal conditions were unable to reach the performance conditions, actors would have to use costumes to find their entry into the character, and as such, it showed how important costumes were to the play.

The premiere in 2013, was such a major cultural event, in the press conference before the first show, they exhibited a shorter segment of the play. Lai Shengchuan wanted people to focus on the story itself, but the media placed their attention on the star-studded cast, the 8 hour long performance, the ring shaped stage, and other gimmicks etc. Lai Shengchuan said, that was the misguidance of the media focus. I felt that, that was unavoidable, since it was a challenge, it was even more so an opportunity, because everything would increase the attention on the play itself eventually. Lai Shengchuan hoped that people would not watch this play for entertainment or escapism, but instead, use this story to face their problems directly, to think about the meaning of life and death.

Surprisingly, the documentary then emphasized on the participating well-known singer’s influence. It said that she had millions of passionate fans, many of them entered the theater because of her, whereas in Lai Shengchuan’s vision, the audiences for “A Dream Like A Dream” were those who had watched many other plays before. We could even say that such a young and influential singer’s addition then truly changed the audience composition for such an elite form of art. On this, Producer Wang Keran expressed that it was something the production team was happy to see, because marketization was the nutrient for such highend art. Moreover, “A Dream Like A Dream” was 8 hours long, they had 400 over sets of costumes, as well as many innovative stage art design, the cost was very huge. Hence, the show for this type of play became a gamble, a gamble between art and market. After all, theater workers would have to eat, and audiences only cared about results, and they would not analyze the difficulties behind it.

The 2021 version that Xiao Zhan joined was built upon the mature experience of 7 years of public showing from the 2013 version, and definitely had lesser problems, but due to Xiao Zhan’s commonly known qualities, the 2021 version would carry the same mission as the 2013 version: using the actor’s huge influence and interest, attract more “first time goers” for theaters, and use the market to nourish the play. To Xiao Zhan personally, this was the rarest and best experience for an actor.

I would mostly skip through the following interview of the famous actor, but there was an important phrase within which he generally said, “To return to theater is to remove the burden of a celebrity.” I felt that this point was suitable to Xiao Zhan.

That time, the production company for “A Dream Like A Dream” (should be Yanghua Theatre) was actually not rich, we could see that the theater scene was still in its infancy. The Stage Designer Zhang Zhelong, was also very competent, he created many aesthetic and unique stage effects for “A Dream Like A Dream”, the most famous was the handover between 2 Gu Xianglans, 2 graceful figures, the former slowly absorbed into the light, blurry and vague, just like a dream. The 2021 version’s Stage Designer is still Zhang Zhelong.

Finally, it was the interview with the well-known actor Jin Shijie, who acted as Baron then. He said that now is the era for speed, everyone could use an electronic device to watch many shows in a night, they could even watch new technologies such as 3D. But, plays were like they carried many ancient rituals. You would need to leave the house, take a car ride, queue, and then sit in among a group of strangers, and watch the stage in the dark, and finally return home. These process were complex, but yet it also seemed especially ceremonious — hence Jin Shijie said that the stage was the most primitive. Whereas for me personally, I like this type of primitive art, this is a form of art that up close, without any misplacement in time and space, and the most realistic.

#xiao zhan #sean xiao #xiaozhan #肖战

[icyllic]

Dating Rockstar Jungkook would include:-

*[GIF not mine]

• you and Jungkook first saw each other after his performance and he’s already interested in you since the beginning 🖤

• despite his ‘bad boy image’, he does have a sweet, soft side (though that side can only be seen by you)

• you two are COMPLETE POLAR OPPOSITES 😍 he’s more into rock, skeleton things, darker colors and rough stuff while you’re more drifted into the sweeter side; you love reading books, wearing bright colors and you enjoy arts & crafts

• ^ most people actually thought Jungkook would find it annoying how you being a complete opposite of him, but he doesn’t mind with how different you are with him at all ❤️

• he’s overprotective!! he doesn’t like it when boys stare at you too much. just one glare for the boys and it’d immediately scare them away

• he always needs your help whenever he writes a song (because you’re his biggest inspiration 🥺❤️)

• Jungkook loves it when you try braiding his hair. he’d enjoy it more knowing you struggle with it lmao 😂😍

• he loves horror movies and you don’t, so... he takes this as an opportunity to wrap his arms around you and have you hide your face on his chest the entire time 😢💜

• he loves teasing you outta nowhere when it comes to texting

• Jungkook loves teasing you with his attempts at ASMR as well 😂

• you don’t like it when he works too much, so you’d give him your best to massage him

• ....though the massage quickly turns to makeout session because whenever you touch him, even a slight touch, he gets turned on very quick 🔥

• when it comes to making love, he’s known to be a little aggressive but backhugs you after and apologizes

• ^ “i’m sorry for being so rough tonight...” he kisses your cheek. “i really can’t control myself around you.”

• he’s so madly in love with you and you have no idea 🥺

• that one time, you gave him a test by giving him the silent treatment for a day

• ^ and my oh myyy, he went so crazy and kept asking himself what he did wrong 😥

• when the time finally hit at 12 AM, it was already new day and you finally talked to him

• “relax, kookie. i was just testing you-” your words got cut off when he immediately hid his face on your neck, planting small kisses on that area 🥺❤️

• Jungkook doesn’t show his emotions much, but when it comes to arguing with you (normally over little things), he’d cry for almost the whole day because he’s so afraid of losing you 😔

• “Mannn for a rockstar like you are, you’re such a baby for Y/N” Jin shakes his head, teasing their golden maknae 

• ^ “I DON’T CARE! i’m only Y/N’s baby 😢” ❤️

• he loves slow dancing with you in your shared bedroom

• during his free time, Jungkook would join you crafting (but would pay less attention because he’s too busy looking at you) 😍

• that one time, you started feeling insecure because of how Jungkook is being shipped with members of any K-pop girl group

• ^ so he took the chance to address this matter in VLive and politely rejected some of the comments 

• “i’m really sorry if that sounded rude. i just really respect my relationship with the girl i’m madly in love with right now, and that’s only Y/N. Y/N’s the only one for me and i just really love her so much and no one can ever change that.”

• “you all know how crazy i am about her. it’s always been Y/N and only Y/N.” 🥺❤️

• he would often write about the way you make him feel in his journal 🖤

• he loves singing for you!! especially at night when you two cuddle to make you sleep better 😍

• Jungkook would always steal moments to take a picture of you secretly, and would set those candid pics as his lockscreen wallpaper 💖💖💖

• when he sees you wearing black, dark colors for the first time, oh dearrr. you don’t know how completely FAST you make his heartbeat race 🖤

• loves it when you wear his bucket hats & leather jackets too 🥰

• most important of all, you really are the cause of his euphoria 🥺🖤

#jungkook boyfriend #jungkook imagines #bts boyfriend #bts imagines #bts reactions #*written #jeon jungkook #jungkook

[jay-and-dean]

More like him

Dean x reader

So I had this request :

I loved it, but it was a real challenge because I thing it wouldn’t be really “Dean like” to go on a diet. It took me months to manage to be satisfied by it. I really hope you like it. Oh, and I added a little Smut, couldn’t help it.

For me this fic is kinda part of the Become that Girl “saga”.

Warning : Swearing. Sassy Sam. Suffering and mentions of unhealthy behaviors and drinking. Jealous Dean. Insecurities. Smut. Unprotected sex (you’re smarter than this). Angst. Fluffy Fluff.

This is both in Reader’s Pov and Dean’s Pov

Words : 10.3 k (yes. You asked for it.)

Jay’s MASTERLIST

Dean’s Pov

             A grunt and a yawn. I turn around, a little pain in my neck from sleeping on the same position for hours.

           I drank too much last night, again. My arm blindly searches for a bottle of water in the deep dark of my windowless room to fight the intense dry feeling in my mouth, but I find nothing.

“Shit.”

           One more night in a shady bar, one more hangover, and one more woman I won’t remember.

           Woman…

           I frown with my eyes still closed and think of her, my stomach gets sick. She was among the prettiest girl I have been with, and she was a little too young for me, I’m sure she wasn’t twenty-five yet. I remember her friends, young and fit boys and girls, celebrating a birthday.

           It’s really something how you see things differently when you’re drunk and when you are not. Maybe that’s why I drink so much : the sober truth gives me the creeps. Yesterday, I was feeling lucky, honored that a beautiful woman had laid her eyes on me, amazed by how confident she was. It felt like I had won the lottery of life, sex life at least. I was on top of the world, I could barely walk straight, but I didn’t care.

           This morning is different. I lay here, nausea making me sweat, disgusted by my own smell and the taste in my mouth, wondering how I came home. I drove Baby drunk like Hell, I could have hurt someone, or damaged her.

“Shit” I grunt again.

How pathetic it is to go look for a college girl to feel alive ? How pathetic it is to spend the whole time we spent together too focused on trying not to be too old or too drunk to actually enjoy any of it ? How pathetic it is to think of another woman, the very second my eyes open ?

I need coffee.

           I get up and make my way to the bathroom to pee and take a shower, I can’t stand the smell on me : alcohol sweat, the detergent of the cheap motel room I took not to bring her to our secret home, and, well, shame.

           After brushing my teeth, I drink all I can from the sink and wonder if she is here. I really hope she is.

Y/n.

The woman I call my friend. The person that have actually been my closest friend with Benny and Cas, maybe even closer. If she’s in the kitchen, she will make fun of me, she will make loud pan noises just to make my headache worse because she says hangover is not enough punishment for hurting my body like that. But in the end, she will probably order pizzas and spend the day with me in the Dean cave not really watching movies while talking about any kind of stuff from hunts to music, from social matters to memories, food -she talks about food a lot, with sparkles in her eyes-, movies, sharks during shark week, horror movie clichés, her childhood, mine, and really intimate things like Hell, Purgatory, like my mom, her dad, our dreams...

I didn’t know I had so much dreams.

           I put on underwear and the grey robe, then shuffle my way to the kitchen in the slippers that makes her call me grandpa.

           Sam is there. All energetic, dressed with those black sweatpants and this ridiculously tight shirt, he's pressing oranges or whatever, and it's noisy as hell.

"Can't you be quite in the morning ?" I groan with a pained frown, sitting with my coffee in front of me.

"Morning ? It's noon, Dean. So, how was last night ? I guess it must have been great considering how late you came back."

"You heard me come back ?" I ask, wondering how late it actually was.

"No, but Y/n waited for you, and around five a.m. she thought you weren't coming home at all, so she went to bed. That's why we haven't been running yet, she barely slept."

I look at him but he's now turning his back on me to fill a bottle with water.

           She has to stop doing that, waiting for me. I told her a few times already but it's like she was a worried mom or something. Y/n is always like that, she worries too much, every cut on Sam or me is a mortal wound, every yawn is a sign of exhaustion. And even if I secretly love this way more than I'll ever admit, I can't let her wait for me all night.

"Hey Dean" her voice catches my attention and I turn to meet her tired eyes.

How can she smile like that after the night she had ? How can she give me that kind smile? I really don't deserve it. I'm disgusting, damaged, violent even... Look at her.

           She walks in and I can't help but drift along her naked legs, strong and soft. She's wearing her working out shorts, the ones torturing me some days, those tiny grey shorts holding her waist, that makes it impossible to not linger on her thighs. The t-shirt she wears is one of mine, or was, since she never gave it back. It's a plain back worn out t-shirt that has really nothing special. She says it's the comfiest.

"Hangover ?" she asks, handing me a slice of her apple.

"Yeah" I grunt, taking it.

I don't like rabbit food and she knows it. So instead of telling me to eat some, like Sam constantly tried for a while, she just gives me little bites of hers. A piece of apple there, a bite of banana, a little of spinach on her fork... and I always let her feed me, maybe just because she does with that adorable kind of smile each time.

"You came back late" she states, turning her back on me.

There is not an ounce of reproach in her voice, but something slightly sad. Maybe she pities me. If she had seen my evening, she would for sure.

           A flash of that girl from yesterday saying my tattoo is weird and old fashion comes to my mind and I rub my face.

"Is there a hunt ?" I ask.

I really need a hunt, I really need some action and to get out of here.

"No" my brother lightly shakes his head.

"I thought I had found one" Y/n adds. "But it turns out it really was a bear this time !"

Her chuckle warms my heart.

"Movies in my room ?" I offer, trying to sound like it doesn't really matter, but the truth is, this perspective is what got me out of bed...

 Reader's Pov

             I cut another slice of apple with my hunter knife and give it to him.

"Hum, maybe later" I answer, looking away. "Sam and I planned on running to the lake..."

"The lake !" he almost chokes. "It's like twelve miles away !"

Sam chuckles and puts a hand on my shoulder, to inform me he's ready to go. He has been waiting for me a long time already, but I needed to check on Dean before I left for the day.

"Yeah..." I mumble. "And I want to practice my gun skills after, of fight skills if Sammy is not too tired from the running."

"I could help you practice too" he states and I give him a knowing smile.

           Dean is not interested in training me, he never was. And, unlike me, he barely needs practice himself anyway, so why should he care ? He's just the best, that's natural. He's Dean Winchester, the best hunter in the world, the best man, the best everything actually. Between the ladies waiting in line to get a piece of him and his friends, the parties, but above all, constantly saving the world... He doesn't have time for me. We're not made of the same wood, I'm from those who have to work hard to keep up. And I never want to be a burden for any of them.

"What ? I could !" he grunts and his brother laughs.

"Yeah right, Dean" Sam mocks him, giving me my bag. "You would probably get a stitch from just stretching with Y/n ! She's getting good !"

"Don't listen to you brother" I assure Dean with a little smile on the corner of my lips.

           I walk out of the bunker with Sam's back in front of me and bite my cheek, trying to ignore that sharp pain in my chest.

           That pain that fell on me again while I was waiting for him, trying to not imagine what he was doing, that dread burning my guts ; and the other, even worse, pain that kept me awake once I was finally sure of what he was doing.

Once outside, the tall hunter stretches a little, humming at the soft spring breeze.

"Why did you wait again" he finally speaks, earning only a sigh from me. "Y/n... I know you need to make sure he's safe but you're hurting yourself. Talk to him..."

"We already talked about this" I just shrug before I start running.

 Dean's Pov

             I stay in the kitchen, my heart pounding in my head, my liver struggling.

           Of course she won't spend the day with me. Why would she ? She waited all night and I was busy partying like those pathetic guys who didn't understand college is over.

You didn't even went to college...

Sipping at my coffee, I think of my brother’s hand on her shoulder and shiver, not really understanding why. I mean, he’s her friend too, a good friend actually, but something changed lately. They are close, more and more every day.

She used to spend all her time with me and now that I think of it… She does with him now. It started with morning runs, then there were going to the grocery store together. They cooked, Sam never cooked in his life, she taught him a few “healthy” recipes while I was making fun of them. Several times I found them talking until late in the library, or sending each other texts during hunts, when they were apart the whole day.

Maybe I’m missing something coming slow… Maybe the woman I think of the second I open my eyes in the morning thinks of Sam.

Why wouldn’t she ? My brother is better than me in every ways.

Sam is smart and educated, went to college and all. They can probably talk about things I have no idea of…

Sam is brave and fair. He’s the best man I know, and if I think of one man that would deserve a girl like her...

What are you saying ? There is no other girl like her.

But above all… Look at him. He just grew old way better than I did. All those healthy craps I always made fun of, in the end he’s right. While I was drinking beer for breakfast and eating fat crap, he was running, practicing. And yes, during hunts we're equals, because I was raised in this life, but if I had to catch him running, I would have a heart attack before he breaks a sweat.

I never cared about all of this. About having abs, comparing my body to my brother's, or about being healthy for that matters. Because let's be honest, I never really cared about myself. And girls like me…Right ?

Stupid.

What girls though. It was a long time since Cassie, since Lisa... And lately the one-night stands have had a bitter taste.

Sex with stranger was fun at first, for years it was. New body, new voice, new taste, and skin and preferences... I guess a guy feels pride by having sex with a lot of different women.  But most of the time it's far from great and I’m tired of starting over every time.

I just wonder how it feels to actually get to know someone intimately, to learn what makes them squirm, their secrets, to wake up next to a friend... Love must be so nice.

The only person I can think of is her, Y/n. The woman that is my friend and the only one I want tell my secrets, the things that make me squirm...

My Y/n.

I grunt, my heart beating too fast because of hangover, my skin still smells alcohol despite the shower.

I'm such a wreck and she's so pure. That woman overcame bad things, and I have seen her so depressed that she barely could move at all for days in the beginning of our friendship. And yet, here she is, smiling, running and dancing in the library at night, making me want to be better every day, to think more, be less self-destructive, to feel pride more than shame. Pride for helping people, pride for my little brother that I helped grow up, and pride for being her friend.

She’s always there, smiling when I need a smile, listening even when I can’t talk, rolled up asleep on a little corner of my bed when I had a night of nightmares. Her hand was in my back when mom betrayed us and chose to leave, like it was the only thing keeping me up…

I can’t imagine her gone, impossible. And I’m realizing, I can’t imagine her in the arms of another man. That’s selfish, but I have to admit it now. I love her. And I want her, I need her.

Yet all I do is pushing her in my brother’s arms. In my brother’s strong and fit arms…

 Reader’s Pov

             I’m running, my feet hurt and I have a stitch on my left side, my thighs are already sore and my skin and lungs are burning. But I ignore them. I run.

           I run to ignore my imagination and the images it brings. Dean laying on his back, giving his precious body to a blond girl that doesn’t even know who he is, how lucky she is. Dean grunting when she swallows around him. Dean grabbing her hair, biting her neck, coming inside her. Dean with two girls, why not…

           I run.

“Y/n !” Sam’s voice interrupts me. “Wow, easy tiger.”

Out of breath, he puts his hands on his knees and frowns at me.

“You know the point of all of this is not to faint ? It’s about endurance, not a sprint or a race.”

“I’m sorry, Sam” I sigh, my body screaming at me even more now that I stopped.

“Is this about Dean ?” he asks, making me roll my eyes.

“How running too fast could be about your brother ?” I grunt.

“You know perfectly why I say that” he shrugs, drinking from his water bottle. “Avoiding him won’t prevent the hurt.”

“It avoids the nausea from smelling cheap perfume on him at least…” saying that, I sit on a bench that is close in a huff. “I just…” I sigh, burying my face in my hands. “How do I avoid the hurt then ?”

“Talk to him” my friend says, joining me on the bench to sit next to me, his tall shadow wrapping me like angel wings, hiding me from this world I hate right now.

“Don’t be ridiculous” I scoff. “Hey Dean, could you not have sex with anyone ? It hurts me. Thank you.”

Sam lets out a chuckle and bumps my shoulder with his giant arm.

           A woman in an elegant sports outfit runs pass us, her tall form bouncing on her thin legs with grace, making her shiny hair fly. Dean would like her, he would totally sleep with her… Oh wait, we’re in Lebanon, there aren’t many girls that pretty around here, maybe he already did…

“How about ‘I have feelings for you’ ?”Sam suggests with puppy eyes and a childish adorable shrug.

I sigh, rubbing my face. Why doesn’t Sam understand ?

“Yeah so it can make our friendship awkward forever, with pity and shit” I look down at my hands. “Or so he chooses to erase my memory like he did with Lisa ?”

A silence falls between us.

           Sam knows what I think of this, how angry it makes me. Of course I don’t want to see him with Lisa, in fact my heart arches each time I think of what they had together, but take those memories from her… It wasn’t his choice to make. I happened to put myself in her shoes and hated it. I would rather long for a single smile from him all my life than being amputated of the only part of me I cherish : My love for him.

           The second reason I hate it is because of what it says about him : Dean is really convinced that he is not good enough. For anything, for anyone.

           During one of our nights in the Dean cave together, not really watching movies and drinking whiskey, he talked about it. And I know how much Lisa and him were meant to break up eventually. She wasn’t a hunter, and she didn’t really want to know about this life, even if she respected it. He was holding on to her like she was his only chance at happiness because, in his mind, happiness can’t come with the hunter life.

           Erasing her memory was not only a way to “protect her”, it was a closure for him. Away of closing the normal life door forever and throw away the key.

“You know he doesn’t think he deserves…” Sam starts but I cut him.

“Don’t.”

           I am a hunter. And despite the fact that I am desperately in love with my friend and going crazy with jealousy, I am pretty happy.

I am happy with my life, my heroic, never boring, full of magic life. I mean, they lost a lot, but do they think people with an apple pie life don’t ? Before I became a hunter, I went to so many funerals that the funeral home employees knew me personally before I hit puberty. And when you lose your family to cancer and heart attack, or suicide… You don’t even get to know for sure they’re in Heaven.

           But I am a hunter now, and I know. I am relieved and I feel safer, because magic exists, Heaven exists, and angels, even if they are quite different from what I had imagined.

“I just want Dean to be happy” I sigh and Sam’s giant hand rubs my back.

           That’s the truth. I wish with all my heart that Dean would realize he can be happy now. That the horror he has been through is over, and that the hunter life he can’t quit doesn’t mean he has to be miserable.

           And that is the reason I have to be the best friend I can. That’s the reason I have to swallow that jealousy that is making me bitter, to just love him, as selflessly as I can.

“Can we go home ?” I ask and Sam nods.

 Dean’s Pov

             I close the bathroom closet and swallow the pill, bending to drink water from the sink, then stand in front of the mirror.

           I never really thought of it, but I’m a little pudgy. My hips are not straight and firm, is my butt a little large ? I frown, making my wrinkles appear and sigh. And those freckles… I never really paid attention to them until that college girl said something about it. Something with a kind smile but her mean girl voice betraying her : “I guess it’s cute, but it always kinda look like the skin is dirty, you don’t have too many on the face so it’s okay”. Why do I have so many freckles ? Dad didn’t, mom either I think, not on her face anyway, and Sam… Sam’s skin is darker than mine, and perfectly smooth. Y/n must like that too.

Stop whining like a teen.

           I walk to my room and sit there, trying to ignore the voices in my head saying Y/n likes my brother. Does he like her too ?

           I take my headphones and turn the music on loud, closing my eyes, too bad for the headache, the silence is worse anyway.

           I’m in Hell, tied up like Alastair used to chain me, but I’m not hurt. Sam enters and points his finger at me.

“You will never be as good as me” he says. “Dad was better, I am better, and the woman you love ?” His laugh is terrifying, evil.

He puts his finger on my stomach and pushes it harder and harder on me, until it hurts.

Until it hurts a lot.

“You’re soft” he says, covering my whines of pain, that come out with my child voice now. “Dad was right, you’re too soft. Your heart is soft, your body too. You couldn’t say no to Alastair, like you can’t say no to a burger” his finger is so strong, like metal, and it feels like it is going to go through my skin and muscles any moment. “You have no self-control. You’re pathetic, Dean… Dean ? Dean.”

           I gasp, half sitting when I open my eyes.

“Sorry” Y/n says, and I look up to find her next to my bed, her hands up in a peace gesture.

“You’re back ?” I ask, still slightly panting.

The sight of her worried face makes my heart slow, and I notice she’s wearing that comfy pajama of hers, the very loose t-shirt draping lazily from her body, embracing her sweet curves.

“I got tired of running” she smiles kindly, finally plunging her hands in her sweatpants pockets.

I grunt and look at my watch, I have been sleeping a few hours, and I think the hangover is gone.

“I came to ask you if you were hungry and… You didn’t seem well” she nibbles at her lips. “Sorry if I scared you.”

I rub my eyes and give her a weak smile.

“You didn’t” I state. “I’m super hungry, yeah.”

I am. When I drink like that, I often skip diner.

I get up and grunt, rubbing my eyes. I thank her, walk to the kitchen with her and sit at the table in a sigh.

“So” she says with that radiant smile on her face. “I was thinking of making burgers. I know I don’t cook them as good as you, but !”

She turns around and shows me her phone screen, moving it too much in her enthusiasm for me to see anything. I chuckle and grab her wrist to still it, enjoying the softness of her skin under my fingers. On the phone, a recipe. “The best burger possible”, with descriptions of how to make the onions crispy, and to make the best sauce…

“Maybe I will finally make burgers as good as yours or close” she states, taking her hand back to read the recipe.

“You know you’re cute ?” I state, but I can’t give her the tender expression I intend to, as my dream comes back to me.

Maybe I should learn to say no to a burger.

“Not as much as your sleepy head” she chants.

“You know…” I clear my throat. “Maybe for once, we should eat what you like and not my greasy crap, like Sam says.”

She stops and turns to me with a pan in her hand and a surprised look.

“But” she pouts. “Me like burger.”

I look down, trying to think of something to say, she actually looks a little disappointed. She was so proud of what she had found… That woman is like a ray of sun.

           When I’m about to tell her that I would love to taste her burger, regretting having made her beautiful smile fade, she puts her phone on the table before me and starts looking in the fridge.

“I get it Dean.”

“Really ?”

“Too much alcohol, your grandpa stomach is fragile” she chuckles and I wonder how she seem to never show real hurt, annoyance or disappointment at anything I say. "Okay, you asked for it, I prepare the same for you as I do for Sam and me."

“Yeah…” I mumble.

           My eyes fall on her phone and my heart flutters. She forgot to lock it, and it’s the first time I see her wallpaper picture. It’s us. Just me and her. I remember that day.

           It was last summer, we were hunting a Wendigo that attacked campers, and had to camp ourselves in the wood for a night to find it. It was a beautiful night. When the photo was taken, I was telling a story, standing with a large smile on my face and a beer in my hand. Y/n came close, I don't remember why, and she wrapped her arms around me, holding my waist with her head on my shoulder.

           The picture really looks like we were a couple. She's staring up at me while I tell the story, her face inches away from mine. Behind us, that beautiful lake and a part of her blue tent. I don't remember who took this photo, and I think this moment must have been very short, or I would remember it. Maybe she just came that close to tell me something in the ear, maybe it was one of those quick hugs she gives me when I say something sad or mention being hurt.

           Why would she have that on her screen ? Before I can think of it further, her phone locks by itself and becomes black.

           I look up, her back is still on me, she's cutting something. With a discreet finger, I touch her phone, trying to make the photo appear again but her lock screen makes me sigh.

           Sam, of course Sam. It's a selfie they took together, simple and cute, both looking at the phone my brother is holding.

"I'm afraid you'll still be hungry after th-" she turns around and her eyes fall on my finger on her phone. "But if you are, there is pie" she states, taking her phone to put it in the back pocket of her jeans.

Like she needed to hide something, like she was embarrassed that I saw that Sam is on her screen.

           She arranges her salad or whatever she's making, puts a plate in front of me, and two others for Sam and her.

"Sam !" she calls and I look down at the plate.

I must say my it is pretty, all colorful. I recognize avocado, tomatoes... But as pretty as it is, it doesn't make me hungry, rabbit food never does.

"Oh wow, Dean is grounded or something ?" my brother chuckles, entering the kitchen.

"Leave him alone" she answers before I can make a comment. "His stomach is still upset."

Sam gives me suspicious look, I never ate this kind of veggie plate in my life, if my stomach is really upset, I wait an hour, and the second it's better, I fill it with beef jerky.

           I can see my brother is waiting for me to make a comment, complain. But when I don't, he just shrugs and starts eating, talking to her about something I don't listen to. I take a piece of avocado with my fork and when I look up to her, she's staring at me, her beautiful eyes searching my face.

"You can change your mind Deanie. I can still make bacon" she smiles.

"N-no really I'm okay" I state, eating a green thing without enthusiasm.

"Oh wow" Sam sneers. "Dean says no to bacon !"

           I swallow the lump in my throat and feel my cheek redden despite my effort to be as stern as possible. I don't need his smart words, and I don't need to see them being so perfect with each other. Getting up, I put the fork down.

"You know Sam, I actually can say no from time to time."

Leaving the room, I rub my face.

 Reader's Pov

             I stay still, my eyes on the kitchen exit where Dean just disappeared. Something is wrong, really wrong.

           I have seen Dean sad, grumpy and pushing people away, but this is new.

"I should go check on him after diner" Sam says. "He obviously have something on his mind."

"Yeah..."

My phone buzzes, it's him.

Hey Sweetheart, I'm sorry for leaving without eating what you prepared. Please tell Sam to not check on me. I'm going to bed, I'm just tired.

Dean is never "just tired".

Okay Deanie. Don't worry for the food. Please if you need something, remember I'm right here.

           Dean didn't come out of his room at all.

           I waited a little in the kitchen, finishing that stupid show I had started the day before, when he was out with yet another woman. I was hoping maybe he would show up to eat something, and then I could talk to him, but he didn't.

"Y/n" Sam's voice makes me jump slightly, frowning at the too bright light. "Did you fell asleep out of bed again ?"

I look around, my laptop battery died, I don't know how long ago and I have no idea of what time it is.

           My friend lets out a deep sigh, offers me his hand and closes my laptop. I get up and follow him, a new ache in my back.

"What was it this time ?" he asks opening the door to my room. "And don't say it has nothing to do with him."

I frown, close the door and sigh letting myself fall sitting on my bed.

"He didn't eat" I mutter and Sam rolls his eyes. "What ? You admitted yourself that something is off."

"Can I sit ?" he asks, taking place beside me on the bed when I nod. "Your crush for my brother, it was cute at first..."

I can see him hesitate, and I know I won't like what he has to say.

"But ?"

"But this is getting unhealthy" he looks down. "You know I love my brother, b-but I think he's not a good thing for you in the end."

My eyes get wet but I keep listening silently.

"Dean is... We all are damaged. You can't stand seeing him angry or hurt but, you know, he is most of the time. Y/n you can't keep spending your nights on wooden chairs just in case he need a freaking sandwich. You're a hunter, a warrior !"

I want to protest, it's not that simple. But nothing come out of my mouth. When tears roll on my face, he opens his arms, welcoming me against him.

           I can't love Dean less, he knows that. But for the first time, he's telling me that he disagrees ; and that changes everything. Sam was always the one kindly making fun of me or taking pictures discreetly for me to stare at on my phone at night. What if he decides he has to talk to Dean ? What if he gets tired of me, his best friend ? And what if he's right ?

"You have to talk to him" he states, making my fears cut my air supply for a moment.

"I-I can't" I sob, half panicking.

"You know he really loves you..."

I let go of his arms, not really wanting to hear more but he keeps holding me.

"What are you so afraid of ?" he sighs.

Dean's Pov

             I'm hungry. My stomach is gurgling and I feel a little dizzy, I need to eat, it's not like I was going to be more like Sam by starving or skipping meals anyway. I will never be like him. More like Sam is not only a muscle thing, he's also taller, smarter, better...

           Coming out of my room, I rub my face, thinking of her pretty face a little shocked when I left. I should apologize.

           After a very quick shower, I put on my grey robe and slippers again, walking to her room slowly.

           I rarely felt that weak, after my heart failure years ago, or after a big blood loss... But hunger like that, I didn't feel it since that week dad left and I lost the food money. I was ten or eleven... I remember feeding Sammy with stolen food, and eating only the leftovers, a piece of fruit, a crust of bread... Sam was starting to realize something was odd. I was so tired...

           I am so tired.

           I ate eggs at lunch the day I went out, then nothing on the evening. And yesterday... Nothing either. I haven't eaten for like forty hours, not even the crusts of Sam's sandwich or three gummy bears he forgot on the nightstand this time. And I'm starting to shake.

           It's enough. I will apologize, make coffee and breakfast for both of us, and ask her to come to my room to continue our "What you haven't seen that ? It's a classic !" marathon movie.

           Just when I'm about to knock at her door, it opens.

           Sam.

           My brother comes out of her room... in the morning ; his perfect pecks showing through his t-shirt and his arms covered of superman veins.

"Dean" he says, surprised.

Then he closes the door behind him, not letting me in, and I feel my blood go down on my feet, making me dizzy.

"Give her a minute" he states, and leaves.

           I stay in front of the door, looking at it like I could see through it. A minute ? What, is she still naked ? Panting ? Dirty ?... I shake my head.

I can't.

I...

She's my Y/n, how can he touch her ? How can he ? I need her, I need her for me... I can't...

           My breath is short and I try to fight the crushing wave of emotions almost making me fall on my knees. Sam is better, I'm a grunt, I'm damaged, dumb, unworthy... And I'm freaking fat !

           The door opens and Y/n bumps on my chest jumps, very surprised to find me here.

"Dean ?" she give me a well faked smile but it fades the second her eyes meet mine. "Dean... Are you okay ?"

I nod but I know the devastating hurricane raging inside of me is showing. And I'm not sure to feel my heart anymore.

"Deanie, did something happen ?"

"N-no" I state.

"Let's get breakfast" she frowns suspiciously. "I told Sammy that I wouldn't run this morning."

Why ? Are you tired ? Sore ? Did he hurt you ?

"I'm not hungry" I state.

The truth is I can't swallow anything right now.

"Not angry ?" she bites her lip. "What is it Dean ? Are you going on a hunger strike ?"

"No" I say and realize my tone is defensive.

She sighs and looks down, licking her lips, probably to taste my brother here...

"I'm worried" she whispers. "You didn't eat at all yesterday, and I know for a fact that you didn't get up for food."

"How can you be sure ?"

Her eyes are suddenly wet, and now I know what that fake smile was hiding : tears. It's enough to make me forget in a second about my own pain, about the crushing feeling on my heart.

"Because I slept in the kitchen again" she says a little coldly before walking pass me.

 Reader's Pov

             I have to hide my face. I can't deal with Dean telling me my love unhealthy too, or with his questions. And I can't cry before him, I wouldn't know how to explain it.

           I enter the kitchen and take eggs and bacon from the fridge. Hungry or not, he will eat a little, he needs it.

Not hungry... Is he sick ?

"Y/n..." he sighs behind me, but I don't answer, breaking the delicate eggshells against the pan edge. "Why did you sleep there ?"

"I don't know" I just say. "Why aren't you eating ?"

"I eat, Y/n."

"Not lately, no. S-so now I make you a real breakfast, like you like it, with meat and fat."

"Maybe I should stop eating that..." he mumbles for himself, but I hear him and turn around.

"What ?"

His whole body language changed. He doesn't stand with that confidence and dominance he usually has. He's hurt, hurt bad. He looks tired and pale, but not only...

"What is going on between Sam and you ?" he asks, low.

"Sam ?"

I slightly shake my head in confusion.

           I don't understand his question, I don't understand the pain on his face. Something happened when he went out, did someone hurt him ?

           Suddenly, a smell of burn come to my nose : the eggs ! I turn and try to save them but Dean's strong wrist grabs mine, making me turn to him.

"Answer please."

His voice is more somber than angry, but his gesture is firm and he's shaking. I can see the fire raging inside of him.

"What do you mean going on ? Dean... The food" I try to turn.

"I DON'T CARE ABOUT FOOD !" he suddenly yells, my heart racing and eyes wetting instantly. "I HAD ENOUGH FOOD FOR AN ENTIRE LIFE !"

           His vise fingers suddenly lets go of my wrist and he takes a step back, fear on his features, like he was afraid of his own emotions. Dean is an impressive and dangerous man, but I will never be scared of him.

           I wipe the tears that escaped my eyes and, on the surface calmly, turn off the fire under the burned eggs. Then I get closer to him and take his hand, way softer than he took mine a second before, under the slightly too long sleeves of his adorable robe. I decided I would be a better friend, it's my chance to be.

"If you precise your question, Deanie, I will answer. I just don't really get it" my eyes are on him, kind but firm, like I was taming a wolf.

"I..."

He doesn't manage to finish his sentence, the gearwheels of his mind visible behind his sparkling eyes. If I don't help him, he will run away, and burry it forever.

"What do you think is going on between Sam and me ?" I ask, noticing his lips are really white, even more than before. But I know he won't agree to eat right now, not until we fix what is bothering him. "Do you think, we're hiding something ?"

That would explain why he was staring at my phone yesterday. Sam and him have been deceived so often, lied to...

"Are you together ?" he cuts my thoughts. "Or is it just casual ?"

"What ? No !" I frown, letting go of his hand just a second. "Dean... Sam is my friend."

"He's perfect" he whispers.

You're perfect.

"He's amazing" I nod. "Sam is one of the best person I know..."

"He's handsome" he cuts me.

I search his face, and he nervously licks his lips. I take his hand again shyly, just the tip of his fingers. He will close again because he regrets those words. I have to answer quickly even if I'm really wondering what this is about.

"H-he is" I state. "Not really my type but he really is a beautiful man."

"You're always together... He... He slept in your bedroom" he says, taking back his hand. "You guys do what you want, but don't take me for a fool."

           I take a deep breath, I won't get out of this without saying a little too much. I little of what I don't want to say. But Dean seems to need answers, and what Dean needs...

"He didn't sleep in my room, I told you I fell asleep in the kitchen. He found me, and bought me back there, tried to convince me to sleep but I was worried... and sad. Why those questions ?"

"Sad ?"

I don't want to answer now, so I continue.

"And... I spend a lot of time with him because he's my friend and..."

Being with you sometimes hurt.

           He doesn't answer, and looks down at himself. Is he jealous that spend time with Sam ? We indeed used to be even closer, before my love for him started being out of control. Does he feel like that third friend the others forget a little for the fun things ?

"Dean, are you upset because I went running with Sam instead of watching movies with you yesterday ?" he looks away. "Does this have anything to do with the fact that you're not eating ?"

"I... I don't know" he sighs. "I'm a little dizzy."

"Sit Dean" I say, guiding him to the table. "Tell me what's going on with food. Please. You know I hate to see you bad."

           He rubs his face with both hands, his scruff audible under his palm. How I wish I could kiss this jaw, how I wish I could show him how much I love him, how I know who he is, not like those girls.  

"It's ridiculous..." he tries, but I sit facing him, and wait for him to talk. "I'm not... like Sam."

"Like Sam ?"

"You know... Abs and..." he motions his body. "All."

"Wait" I blink a few times. "Dean you're perfect."

He scoffs so bend a little to make him look at me.

           How can he compare himself to his brother ? Where do that come from ? I know Dean struggles with serious self-hate, but would never have guessed it would reach that subject, of physical appearance... Maybe this is about a woman.

"Dean. You're the most beautiful man I have ever seen." My mouth starts freeing itself from truth I kept locked, and I can't stop it. "I'm serious. Your face looks like some masterpiece with perfect proportion, y-your eyes are ridiculously green, your jaw could cut glass, your lips..." my eyes fall on them and my words get lost. "You're tall and broad..."

"You're making me blush Sweetheart" he says, he voices back to its usual low hoarse tone. "Still I... You know I'm... a kid when it comes to food, I never exercise..."

"Never exercise ?" I smile. "Three days ago you climbed inside a house then dug a six feet deep hole on the ground, and the day after you chased a monster, fought him, and carried his body to a place where you can burn it... I say you deserve a burger."

His face seems to light up a little, but his pretty pillow lips are still too white.

"But it's not working out, like Sammy."

"Dean... Your brother likes it, he need it to focus, to think" my smile grows and I speak lower, I know my admiration is showing, and it honestly feels liberating. "And he needs that to keep up with you."

"He doesn't" he almost chuckles, finally warming my heart.

"Well, you're the best. It's natural for you, but we have to work, especially me."

"You two are better than me" he states.

"We're not. And... Dean not eating isn't going to make you feel better about yourself. It's going to wear you out, make you weak..."

"I know" he sighs.

"Can I make you a breakfast ? The color of your lips makes me want to draw a salt circle."

He chuckles fully this times, wrinkles appearing on the corner of his eyes.

           I gently pat his shoulder as I get up, still not believing Dean could have insecurities like those. I throw away the burnt cold eggs and make some new, with bacon.

"I hear comments sometimes you know..." he says like it was easier now I'm not looking at him. "The things you said, that my face is nice..."

"More than nice" I admit, turning a little to him, but not fully to keep watching the pan.

"It happened that girls expect more under my shirt" he looks down. "I know it's ridiculous... I just, I don't know, maybe I feel disappointing."

"It's not ridiculous" I state under my breath, grabbing a plate to finally give him food. " Here, eat this, all of it."

"Like with the whole FBI look or with my seductive smile" he stops and grunts. "I feel like a teen."

"Hey, nothing like that between us, you know that. I told you about very embarrassing stuff" I reassure him. "And, what you're saying is interesting, men endure the social standards too."

"I... I don't know I didn't age like a model, I'm... soft."

Model.

"You know..." I start.

I pour two coffees and take a chocolate bar for myself, watching him before I keep talking, to make sure he starts eating.

"Delicious" he states, putting big pieces in his mouth.

"One of the reason I work out with Sammy is... Precisely because I don't want to look ridiculous next to two total models."

"Now that's" he starts, opening his mouth too big at how hot it still is. "That's kinda ridiculous. You're the prettiest girl ever !"

"I'm not" I whisper, softly blowing on my coffee.

"What ? You are Y/n" I lift my eyes on him, his lips are still a little light but shining with grease.

"I'm not like the girl you go out with."

           I don't dare looking up, but see he stopped moving. His robe is now totally opened, the belt got loose, and my eyes are lost in the black of his shirt.

"The girls I go out with" he repeats. "You're way better than those girls."

"Oh listen to you, that doesn't sound cliché at all" I say a little too coldly, a shocked expression appears on his face. "I... I'm sorry."

"You know... the girls I go out with, that doesn't really mean anything."

"I know" I cut him to make him understand I'm not asking him to justify himself.

But he keeps talking anyway.

"I have been with divorced single moms, witnesses... college girls" he says the last one with something bitter and I take this occasion to make it about him again, and not me.

"Two day ago" I ask, although it's the last thing I want to talk about. "It was a college girl, Deanie ? Did something happen ?"

"Yeah... no" he states, answering my two questions. "I just... I just realize it wasn't really what I wanted, not anymore. And that it didn't... didn't really make me feel good about myself."

"Too young for you ?" I try to joke, giving him a piece of my chocolate bar, feeding him like I always do, with everything I have in my hand.

"Kinda yeah" he answers seriously. "I don't know... She... I wasn't frat boy enough for her I guess."

"Yes, that's exactly the idea, that you're not that !"

"I didn't really, you know... enjoy it" he says and I fight the images coming in waves in my head. "I was too focused on trying to prove something" a dark chuckle escapes his lips. "I don't even know who I was trying to convince. And she... She didn't like the tattoo, the scars, the freckles..."

"Whoa whoa ! Who's that bitch ?" I lift my hands in the air, sincerely shocked, I never knew some women would be able to not appreciate Dean.

He smiles kindly but looks at the bottom of his coffee.

           Silence. I wish I could make him see who he is, I wish I could speak more, ask questions, but just talking about that stupid college girl that had him, but on top of that made him feel bad about himself...

"You look sad again" he cuts my thoughts.

"Sad ?"

"Yeah, it happens often. You start thinking deeply and you get sad" he says. "Listen... You're the most amazing friend, and woman, there is..."

"But" I whisper, echoing the conversation with Sam in my head.

"There's no 'but'" he shakes his head. "I was just going to say that I want to be a better friend, and man, for you."

"You already are the best" I smile but he doesn't smile back at all, his green eyes searching mine.

"I'm not. I let you down several times. I get why you would rely on Sammy more. I left you at this bar after that hunt when that witness was hitting on me. And I cancelled movie night twice to go out, just to feel... I don't know desired, loved maybe ? I know how absurd it is" When I'm about to talk, he doesn't let me. "And I worry you... coming home drunk as fuck in the morning." He rolls his eyes a little. "And with Baby..."

"I'm not your mom, I have to stop being so protective, Sam is right..."

"Sam ?"

           That's it, the moment I say so much I regret it my whole life. But I promised my best friend I wouldn't go on like this, that I would either talk to Dean, like he wants me to, or at list try to work on my feelings to move on. It's time to stop hiding everything from the man I love and make our friendship pure again.

"Sam says..." I clear my throat. "That... I have to care a little less about you, to care a little more about me" I don't dare looking up and let out a dark chuckle. "Won't be easy... I care a lot about you."

           When he doesn't answer, I finally look up, fearing what I will see on his face. He's just staring at me with an expression I never really saw on his face. His gorgeous lips are pink again, and the scruff on his cheeks, a little darker than usual, highlights the radiant light of his big beautiful eyes.

           He half gets up, bending on the table. And before I can realize what's happening, he puts his lips on mine in a soft, warm kiss.

           My whole body responds to it. The thin hair on my arms stick up, my heart starts beating my chest and my thighs get moist with a thin layer of sweat.

           I stay frozen for a second, looking at him in disbelief, playing the quick kiss again and again in my head as he sits back.

"I just..." he clears his throat and sigh, getting up. "I'm not Sammy."

Before he can leave, before this moment becomes a memory I will struggle to think as real, before I find myself in that hole of secrets again, I get up. But he's already walking to his room.

"Dean !" I run after him, meeting him at his bedroom door. "Dean. You're not Sammy. You're you, you're perfect in every ways."

           My heart is pounding. Let's do this, he needs this. Dean needs to be loved and I didn't know he needed reassurance. No one can to this better than me, because I worship him. I always said I wanted to show Dean he can be happy, and loved without changing his life for good. This is my shot at it, I may not be enough, I may not be what he wants or needs, but at least I can share with him. My devotion, my love, my body, all he wants.

           And If my heart breaks, let it be a happy sacrifice.

"Your freckles are like stars in a summer sky" he frowns when my fingers come up to graze his cheek. "I already liked freckles but yours... You make any other skin look plain and boring."

His face is so close, the delicious smell of his skin reaching me. His pupils are large, just circled with that green that could make me cry.

"Your lips..." I say a little lower, looking at them intensely.

From here, I can see the few freckles that made their way on them. Then I see his tongue, slowly wetting them before he bends again, catching my lips softly, his nose bumping mine when he opens his mouth to capture my upper lip, once, twice...

           I open my mouth and wrap my arms around him, deepening the kiss with a shameless hunger, and all my love in it. Something blows up inside of me, something strong : need.

 Dean's Pov

             No drunk groans, and no shame anywhere. I kiss her like it was words, and take her inside my room.

"Your smell" she says and I feel emotions rush in every one of my veins, but it's not disturbing like it usually is. "I could bath in it, live it."

I bend to burry my face in her neck, inhaling deeply.

           And I take my time, I have no reason to hurry, nowhere to go, no woman to come back to. She slips her fingers between the strands of my hair, letting me hold her close, drowning in her smell.

           I want to cry, and I don't really know why. Probably because of how right this feels. Because of that relief : She not with my brother. She is not with Sam...

"Dean..." she whispers, her nails gently grazing my scalp. "Can I see you ?"

I put a kiss on her neck and murmur a tender 'yes' against it.

           Her hands leave my hair to go down along my neck, sending shivers down my spine, and push my robe, making it fall like a cape at my feet. That’s how she makes me feel, like her hero.

           Her chin goes up without me leaving her neck, and she gently rubs her cheek on my jaw. In a soft moan, I open my mouth to leave wet kisses on her skin.

Maybe she can be mine...

"Sometimes your voice makes me shiver" she whispers in my ear. "Just your voice... It's so deep."

Somehow her words send electricity to my crotch and I can feel my boxers getting tighter.

           My hands grab her ass, pressing her against me and when she moans, I feel my cock twitch.

"Y/n..."

"You're beautiful in everything" she continues, her hands slipping under my shirt to stroke my back, her voice slightly weaken by arousal. "But when you wear henleys or just a t-shirt..." she kisses just below my ear. "I can get wet by just looking at you."

My cock twitches and I groan.

"Are you wet now, Baby ?"

She nods and I let go of her ass to cup her face, kissing her like I always dreamed of, deeply and hungrily, not caring of being in control of myself, not caring if I seem desperate.

           She starts to walk, making me take a few steps back until my calf hit the edge of the bed and I sit on it. I tug at her shirt to make her straddle me, but she takes a second to take off her shorts, revealing her beautiful thighs, and her white panties.

           When she finally straddles me, spreading her legs, I spot a wet stain on her panties and a low growl leaves my chest.

"Fuck... You are..." I say, my hand coming down to cup her sex through it, feeling the tip of my finger get wet.

Her body immediately contracts, and, with my middle finger pressed against her entrance, I can even feel her walls clench around nothing.

"How can you be so reactive" I groan.

"It's you..." she moans, rolling her hips just a little to feel my hands more. "Dean... No men can do this to me."

           My other hand comes up to take that worn out black shirt she stole with impatience, because I notices she wasn't wearing a bra underneath.

"Oh baby..." I let out, bending to kiss her breasts, my other hand teasing her more.

           I'm burning up, my back sweating, my cock painfully hard. I don't remember being that turned on in my life by so little. She hasn't even touched me yet.

           Her head falls back and her nipples point at me, begging me to suck at them, so that's what I do. Mouth open, I take one in my mouth, along with the most of her soft breast I can.

"Ah..." she moans and squirms above me. "Dean !"

My cock twitches at just hearing my name like that, my real name on top of that.

           I slip my hand in her panties, desperate to hear more, feel more. She's soaked, her thighs contracted and her hips rolling against my hand. She doesn't form words, but her body is begging for more.

           So I slip a finger inside her and feel her squeeze him, hear her gasps. I can't wait to be inside of her but that's not my only purpose... Oh God when she will clench around me ! I’m panting now.

"Please Dean" she whines, one of her hand going behind her to find balance on my knee, her beautiful body arching back.

I give her what she needs, another finger, pumping slowly at first, then going a little stronger, and my thumb on her clit, gently circling. I look at her with my mouth open in awe, a devouring pleasure making me high.

"Fuck" I pant.

           I should try to focus, make that coil inside me calm, make my heart slow. I don't want to be aroused like a teen, or I won't last at all... But I can't, and my free hand comes on my crotch to touch myself through my boxers a little, desperate for some friction.

"Dean ! Dean..." she cried out, now joining the movement of my fingers with her whole body. "I need..."

"Come for me" I order. "Show me how much you want me Baby, clench those fingers."

And just like that, she does.

           Her whole body shakes and her thighs crush me, her walls trying to milk my finger for what they can't give her.

"DEAN DEAN DEAN !"

My cock twitches so hard it's painful, I bend on her chest to not see her face longer, and try to hold back as hard as I can.

"Baby... fuck..." I whine, my whole stomach contracting and my cock pulsating.

But when she grabs my head to hold it against her and start rolling her hips hard to prolong her powerful orgasm, I can't hold back...

           In a very loud frustrated grunt I come in my pants, feeling my cum drip along my twitching cock.

 Reader's Pov

             My bliss makes me high, but my senses are at their full power, so I can feel what’s happening. I can feel Dean squirm beneath me and shake, I can feel his hand unable to move and hear his gasps.

           He’s coming.

           My walls clench even more at the thought and he whimpers against my breasts. So I hold him, I just hold him.

           When I finally can have the control of my body again, I look down at him and he withdraws his fingers slowly.

“Y/n…” he whispers. “Fuck I…”

“Did you came ?” I ask with the largest smile I ever had on my face.

“I… yeah… I’m…”

He seems embarrassed.

“Dean, that’s the sexiest thing I have ever experienced” I assure him, bending to kiss his lips. “No one ever wanted me that bad.”

“I still want you” he states, his hands stroking my back and going down on my ass. “I… I think you’re all I want actually.”

           My eyes get wet. In my head : every single moment in my life that made me fall in love with Dean, every day, every moment I craved for a touch, for his smell, every time he laughed and cried… Everything.

“Then you have me Dean, you can have me forever if that’s what you want.”

“Yes, I do” he says, taking off his shirt.

           With a large smile I push him back on the bed, letting him drag both of us higher on it. I look down at him, and a tear falls on his chest. His hand comes up to wipe my cheek, we don’t need to talk for a moment.

           My hands go down his sides, enjoying his firm chest and the soft line of his stomach, my thumbs massaging it a little on their way up, feeling the strong muscles underneath and the silky-smooth skin.

           I bend to kiss his collarbones, and his tattoo, palms still roaming everywhere like I always dreamed of, like I will always dream of.

“This tattoo” I say, drawing its contour with my finger. “It’s so you, it has a story, and it protects you. I love it.”

“And I love you” he states without a hesitation, his chin almost on his neck to see me.

A tiny emotional sob escapes my lips, making him frown a little and wrap his strong arms around me.

“Hey baby…” he whispers. “Y/n…”

           My hand goes down to push his underwear down, and my panties to the side. He searches my eyes while I do, and licks his lips in a moan when I grab his cock to guide it at my entrance.

“I love you” I say, slowly sinking down on him. “I love you, I love you…”

FEEDBACK IS WHAT MAKES ME WRITE 

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Text divider by the amazing @talesmaniac89​

#supernatural #Supernatural Dean Winchester #supernatural fanfiction #SPN #spn fanfic #SPNFamily #dean winchester #dean winchester fic #jealous dean winchester #hurt dean #angst #fluff #Smut #OneShots #dean x reader #spn dean x reader #dean x y/n #Sam Winchester #jay and dean #jay-and-dean

[hutchhitched]

Don’t Talk To Me

Written by: @hutchhitched

Prompt 76: Modern a/u Katniss is getting over the loss of her sister (you decide how) when she meets Peeta. She’s closed off but he finds a way in. Maybe she works for him? Him for her? Maybe she cries herself to sleep on his bread scented shoulder? (Please yes I need that) [submitted by @endlessnightlock]

Ratings/Warnings: T

A/N: Y’all... It’s finally here. This is story number nine from the nine prompts I claimed for the 2020 @everlarkficexchange and then lost the will to write during the early months of the pandemic. I wasn’t sure I’d get here, but it’s happened. This is not the story I intended to write when I took the prompt, but sometimes the muse takes control, and I simply follow. Thanks for your patience, and I hope you enjoy. Huge thanks to @javistg for understanding the delays and @endlessnightlock for being supportive of my plot change.

Katniss Everdeen hates people. Well, that’s not exactly true, but she doesn’t exactly like them either. They’re too…human or whatever. Too many acquaintances. The last thing she wants to do is get close to any of them, especially after the events of the past few months. She’s barely holding it together as it is, and introducing people or, even worse, friends could tip her right over the edge. She values her sanity.

 That’s probably why the new, sweet, disgustingly optimistic, overly friendly hire at the coffee shop where Katniss works irritates her so much. He’s just so nauseatingly earnest. It makes her want to punch him in the face.

 “How’s my favorite barista today?” he asks when she joins him behind the counter while still tying her apron. She mumbles noncommittally, but he doesn’t seem at all deterred. “I like that sweater.”

 “Peeta,” she says as she attempts to maintain control of her temper. He looks at her with such eagerness, she wilts under his obvious enthusiasm. “I’m just… It’s not a good day. Can we not?”

 His face falls, and she almost relents. She doesn’t know what it is that’s convinced him she’s someone he needs to befriend, but she simply has no interest. She doesn’t want more entanglements. They hurt too much.

 “Sorry,” he whispers and turns away. She swallows a twinge of guilt for hurting his feelings, but she doesn’t yield. Instead, she pivots to the espresso machine and starts making coffee. They work together silently, their only conversation about drink orders. They move around each other easily with no uncomfortable bumping or banging elbows or shoulders. He’s a good worker, at least, and he knows how to take a hint.

 “See you tomorrow,” Peeta says softly as his shift ends, and she flashes a brief smile. She doesn’t want to be rude, but come on. He doesn’t have to be friends with everybody.

 It continues like that for months, him fruitlessly friendly and her taciturn and distant. He continues to pursue a friendship, never pushing or prodding, simply being there and consistently showing kind. It’s exhausting.

 “How do you manage to stay so sickeningly upbeat?” she asks finally after several days of wanting to scream. He wears her down. She’d tell him to stop, but she’s starting to think she might like his optimism a little bit.

 He pauses for a second to glance at her before returning his attention to slipping sleeves onto the cup he’s holding. He calls out the order and smiles at the customer before answering. “What’s the other option? Being miserable?”

 “Well, I’m pretty good at it.”

 “I don’t think that’s true,” he argues softly. “I think you’ve had a rough time, and you’re grieving and healing. No one begrudges you that.”

 She gapes at him for a few seconds before snapping back to attention. The last thing she needs is to break down in front of everyone. Somehow, she thought he didn’t know anything. It’s disconcerting to realize her grief is on public display when she’s worked so hard to tuck it away. She reels, and he presses his lips together in frustration.

 “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep.”

 “It’s… You’re fine.” She swallows hard and shakes her head. “I’m taking my break.”

 His wounded expression slices through her as she flees.

 ****

 Another couple of weeks pass before Katniss finds herself alone with Peeta again. They’re scheduled to close on a slow night, and everyone else has gone home when he locks the door behind the last customer and she turns off the light and secures the window for the drive through window.

 “Alone at last,” she jokes and is struck by his wry grin.

 “You don’t have to do that.”

 “Lock up? I think I do.”

 He catches her gaze and refuses to let it drop. “Pretend to be happy you’re here with me.”

 “I—”

 “I’m sorry,” he insists. “I thought maybe if I could talk to you and stop being so, you know, wounded that maybe we could take a shot at being friends. I didn’t mean to upset you, Katniss. That’s the last thing I’d ever want to do.”

 She doesn’t answer for several beats. He squirms a little and drops his eyes to study twisting hands and twitching feet. She’s going to regret this. She knows she will. Still, there’s something sweet and shy and kind that she yearns for when the rest of the world is so hard and cold. Maybe it’s weakness or something else equally awful she should expunge from her personality, but she can’t let him spiral this way. Maybe it’ll stop hers, too.

 “We could, uh, try that.”

 It comes out garbled and stunted, but the change in his countenance makes her glad she took the step. A thousand emotions flit over his handsome face, but a grin splits his lips so wide that his teeth flash white. She holds up her hands to head him off, but he steadies himself. With eyes twinkling, he chuckles.

 “I saw the fear there for a second. I’ll control myself before I start asking the deep stuff.”

 “The deep stuff?” she asks, still gun-shy.

 “Yeah, like it’s crazy that I’d voluntarily cover a shift for you if you called in sick, but I don’t know your favorite color.”

 “It’s green.”

 “Mine’s orange.”

 “Like those chairs?” she laughs and nods at the overly bright upholstery on the furniture. Apparently someone in corporate thought pumpkin spice wasn’t just their most popular fall drink; it was also where customers could put their butts as they sipped caffeine-laden drinks.

 “Softer,” he answers, his voice a breathy whisper. “Like the sunset.”

 Her eyes drift shut. He’s put a spell on the space with his words, and she wants to stay there for a moment. When he’s not being overeager, Peeta Mellark is charming as hell. Lord, help her.

 “Can I tell you a secret? It’s really important.”

 She tenses, but when she opens her eyes, she finds that he’s moved closer to her and propped his hip against the counter. He looks so young and hopeful there’s no way she can be scared of him.

 “If you must,” she sniffs and smiles to soften her response.

 “Lean in close. It’s a big one.” She does so slowly, and he waits patiently until she’s close enough that he can whisper, “Don’t tell our boss, but I’m a tea guy. Two lumps of sugar. I don’t even like coffee.”

 Her eyes widen for a split second, and then she bursts into laughter. Tears gather in her eyes as she shakes. “That’s not a big one!”

 “Coffee is life, Katniss. A known tea drinker would be cast out among the wolves. I’ll just stay incognito. I’m trusting you with my life here.”

 “And what if I spill it?”

 “Spill the tea?” He winks as she gasps for air. Just as quickly, he wipes his expression from his face and assumes mock sobriety. Somberly, he picks up the broom and starts to sweep. “Well, then, I guess you’ll have one fewer opponent to beat out for employee of the month.”

 The whole idea that Katniss, surly and grumpy as she is, could ever win a customer service award is so preposterous she can’t keep from giggling. By the time the café is clean, she’s a million times lighter. When they head separate ways after locking up, she watches him as he strides down the street. Before he turns the corner, he tosses a look over his shoulder and waves. She doesn’t even have to think about it. She waves back.

 ****

 They become friends, and it upends her life. Katniss isn’t used to having people around. Not since her sister passed away and left her all alone in the world. Katniss had gotten used to being an orphan, but when her sister was killed in a car crash, the loneliness and despair overwhelmed her. With Peeta around, she doesn’t feel quite so isolated anymore.

 They take short walks on shared breaks, and he leans down to pick dandelions from between the sidewalk cracks before handing them to her with a bashful grin. He shields her from overly aggressive customers during busy periods at the café, and, after several weeks, he manages to convince her that spending time together outside of work isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

 “Friends do tend to see each other in social settings,” he teases, and Katniss finally relents.

 They go to movies and basketball games and art exhibits and archery competitions and all sorts of other things she had no idea she’d enjoy until Peeta suggested the activity. Sometimes, they do mundane things like grocery shopping together. She finds she likes trying new things as long as there’s someone with her and they can debrief about what was good and bad afterward. He convinces her to try one of those art classes with BYOB wine and a pre-chosen image to paint, and she gasps when his own creation takes on a life of its own while hers seems like a bad paint with water replica. He teaches her to cook bread and cookies and cinnamon rolls, and she shares her heirloom lamb stew recipe with him. They’re comfortable together. He never pushes, never makes her feel like he needs anything more than simple friendship.

 Until, that is, the anniversary of her sister’s death.

 She should have taken off work. She knows that, but the café is short-handed. Besides, she needs the money. It’s rainy and muggy and awful when she leaves the house, and the subway is packed much more than usual. She’s jostled and pushed and touched inappropriately (although, that was likely unintentional with how closely pressed together the passengers are in the train car), so that by the time she gets to work, she’s irritable, grumpy, and a ten seconds from losing it.

 It’s possible it’s the weather or the alignment of the stars or an almost full-moon or the changing of the seasons. It could be that other people are suffering from trauma and loss and depression, as well. Or it could be that Katniss just has really bad luck.

 “This drink is wrong.”

 The harsh complaint is snapped at her by an unpleasant looking man with white hair and a beard. He looks at her like she’s something rotten on the underside of his shoe when he shoves the cup toward her and sloshes some of the hot liquid on her outstretched hand. She hisses at the burn and immediately turns to the sink to run cold water over her skin before it blisters.

 “Don’t turn your back on me! Fix my coffee.”

 Katniss tenses, her guard up, but she refuses to move. His actions burned her, and she’s following not only methods of self-preservation but also the company’s safe work policies. Injuries are to be treated immediately on the job. She’s doing that.

 He continues yelling, attracting the attention of patrons and staff. Peeta finishes with the order he’s taking and quickly intervenes, coming to her rescue whether she wants him to or not. She’s not sure which is accurate.

 “Can I help you, sir? My name is Peeta, and I’m—”

 The man squints at Peeta and raises a shaking hand toward me. He’s livid, and Peeta takes a half-step back at the fury that’s suddenly directed his way. The situation escalates. It’s not pretty. The police are called, and customers are shaken. That’s nothing compared to the way Katniss quakes inside her own skin. She’s barely holding it together when their manager intercedes.

 “Get her out of here,” Haymitch barks at Peeta before turning to the customer. The coffee cup he’s thrown at her rolls on the floor in a puddle of liquid. The name scrawled on the outside is Snow. It’s ironic. Katniss has always hated winter.

 They make it to the back before she crumbles, and Peeta lets go of her hand to help her sit down on a stack of crates. He settles next to her and pulls her into a loose embrace—tight enough so that she knows he’s there but loose so she doesn’t feel trapped. It’s the perfect way to comfort her. He’s perfect, and she’s a mess.

 The tears flow, and she’s too broken to bother to wipe them away. Shoulders shake and sobs tear from her throat in gulping heaves. At one point, she moans her dead sister’s name. It’s a mournful wail that washes over her and makes her hurt even worse. He pats her back and toys with the tip of her braid. It’s an unlikely source of solace, and it causes her to turn into him and press her face to his shoulder.

 He smells like bread, she realizes in a random flash of clarity. She’s lamenting her sister, but that scent claws at her senses and registers in the olfactory section of her brain. How odd, she thinks before a fresh wave of grief shakes her torso.

 “It’s okay, sweetheart,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry. I’m here. Take as long as you need. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

 She’s not, though. She’s not all right, and she knows he understands that. He’s working with a limited vocabulary as he tries to help her. That’s what people say when they’re faced with a weeping friend. She’s done it herself. His tone of voice and gentle touch more than prove his compassion for her pain.

 She doesn’t know how long they sit there, but it’s long enough that her tears have soaked his shoulder. A sharp cough invades their little bubble, and they both glance up to see Haymitch in the doorway.

 “Clock out,” he orders in that gruff way of his. “We’ve got you both covered. Take her home, boy.” Peeta nods at the nickname without protest. It would be offensive if it meant anything other than their boss can’t remember anyone’s names, although that’s bad enough.

 Peeta hails a cab and gives her address. He escorts her to her door and unlocks it for her before guiding her inside and seating her on the couch. When he moves away, she grabs at his hand and pulls him down next to her. His arms envelop her again, and she presses her face into his neck and allows the tears to streak down her cheeks while she hiccups. She hates being vulnerable, but she trusts him. They’ve grown close over the past few months.

 Finally, she runs dry. Her sobs subside, and her body stills. He doesn’t shift, doesn’t attempt to pull away. Instead, he simply waits and gives her the space for what she needs. It’s a beautiful thing to grieve with someone who allows it to occur instead of hindering the process. She’s not okay. She won’t be for a long time, but she’s survived today. For now, that’s enough.

 “Thank you,” she mumbles against his shoulder. When he doesn’t answer, she glances up at him through wet lashes and finds him looking at her with compassion in his piercing blue eyes. She could fall into them if she’d let herself. When he lifts his hand to brush flyaway wisps of hair from her forehead, she thinks maybe she should.

 Time freezes. There’s a pulse between them that shakes the world. They’re drawn together, and she doesn’t second guess it or pull away from him. Instead, she closes her eyes and meets his mouth with hers. It’s gentle, just a sweet brush of lips, but it tastes like a reawakening, like the snow melting away and the earth coming back to life in spring.

 It’s scary. It’s terrifying. It’s also right. After the events of the past year, she deserves a new beginning.

#everlarkficexchange #springtime edition 2020 #prompt 76 #everlark #everlark fanfiction #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #don't talk to me #bring on the new beginnings #ready for the next round

[allisonbaelfire]

Thorns & Roses

Pairings: Tyler Lockwood x Reader / Damon Salvatore!Brother x Reader / Stefan Salvatore!Twin Brother x Reader

Summary: After 50 years, your brothers asked you to come back to Mystic Falls. Katherine seemed to be back again, which is why they both worried about you and want to keep an eye on you. While your brothers tried to find Katherine, you came closer to a greater danger then a psychopathic vampire. A Werewolf.

Chapter Summary: Back in Mystic Falls, you encounter some problems, like a doppelganger, the crazy ex of your brothers who tries to kill you and building a normal life for you in the meantime. In addition, you and your brothers have neither seen nor heard of each other for the past 50 years and if you don't become a team again, Katherine has already won.

Word Count: 2,888

Authors Note: This is Part One of Thorns & Roses, I had to re-write it. I hope you liked it.

____________________________

A few months ago:

Step by step it became clearer to you, now there was no turning back. The sun felt warmer than usual as you walked through your hometown, for the first time in 50 years. 

It seemed that mystic falls hadn’t changed except for the people. Sure, it became more modern, but the people here seemed more careless. Kids were running around, others friendly greeting each other like nothing bad would ever happen in this small town.

Seeing all those happy people made you forget for a second why you actually came back. The woman who played your brothers like fools, turned them into vampires and forced them to turn you too, seemed to be back in their lives. which, unfortunately, would mean that she would be back into yours as well.

At your brothers' request, you came back to mystic falls, even if there were no concrete threats from Katherine's side against you, they wanted to keep an eye on you in order to be able to protect you, if necessary.

________________

Even after years of not having set one foot in the city, you remembered every corner, so it wasn't difficult to find your way back home. Salvatore Mansion.

Many memories came back when you stood in front of the huge house, good ones but also not so nice moments went through your head. Again, not much had changed except for the voices that you heard in the living room of the house.

“Katherine.” You threw your bag and suitcase and stormed into the house. 

Katherine and you had a much more strained past than she had with your brothers. You were always the only thing that stood between her and her desire for love and power. Because if your brothers loved one thing more than their sick love for Katherine, it was you.

“Long time no see, Bitch.” In a second you had her by the neck and pressed against the wall. “I should’ve known, they’re still to weak to get rid of you.” You clenched your teeth while stared at her. “But I promise you, I am not.”

Katherine gasped and tried to remove your hand from her throat, but to no avail. Stefan ran to you and tried to get you off of her, but you could easily push him away with your other hand as if it was nothing. 

Damon came to you and took your face in his hands, "it's nice to see you Y/N, now let her down." he commended calm. "It's not Katherine.“

You didn't believe a word. He loved Katherine too, probably more than Stefan ever did, of course Damon would try to protect her. You just squeezed her throat even more and smirked while doing so, which made him nervous but he didn't give you a choice. Even if you were stronger than Stefan, Damon could pull you away from her.

He throw you against the wall while Katherine fell to the ground. Seeing how you older brother helped her to get on her feet made your blood boil inside you.

You balled your fists, “I swear, if you don’t rip her stone cold heart out of her chest, right now-” 

Stefan got back up and ran to Katherine, she snuggled up against him, still trying to breathe while he held her tight. You couldn't stand this sight and were already looking for a way to kill her in the next few seconds.

“My- my Name is Elena.” 

“And mine is Death.” You growled.

Damon couldn’t help but chuckle, he missed having somone as sarcastic as him around. He took your hand and kissed the top of it. “Glad to have you back sissy, now sit down.”

________________ 

Your brothers told you about Elena being Katherine's doppelganger. She was Stefan's girlfriend and Katherine was after her, presumably out of jealousy, but they didn't know for sure. 

Normally you would have had a harder time believing all of this, but an old friend of yours told you a similar story a long time ago. But this similarity that Katherine and Elena shared, their looks, voice ... you could only hope for Elena's sake, that they were different in character, otherwise she would be back on your death list.

Elena seemed just as shocked as you, regardless of the fact that you tried to kill her, she looked like you were a ghost.

“Never seen a Vampire before, Darling?” You couldn’t stop starring at her too. Elena held her throat and her eyes wandered to Stefan’s obviously confused. “Oh, Stefan didn’t mention his Twin? Shocker.”

You went to Damon's personal bourbon shelf and took out his favorite drink, even though he didn't like sharing it, you were the only one whom he wouldn’t cut of their hand just by trying to get to his precious drop.

“Told you, she’d be pissed.” Damon took a sip of your drink, winking at Stefan.

You angrily took your glass from his hand,  “You’re not better.” you hissed. “No Calls, no texts, no nothing - for 50 years.” Your tone became more serious until you put the pieces together. “And now you want me back here to protect me? Nah.” You faked a laugh, and finished the glass all at once without grimacing, Damon was a little impressed by that. “Unbelievable. You wanted me here to protect her.”

Elena visibly uncomfortable, gave Stefan a disappointing glimpse, by that you could conclude that she actually had no idea what was going on and would’ve disagreed with them to just call you for her protection. 

From the looks of your brothers you could clearly see that it was Stefan's idea. He was the one who tried really hard not to lock with your eyes while Damon just waited for you to explode again.

Stefan scratched his neck. “Y/N, look-”

While Stefan tried to find his words, you turned around to have Damon re-fill you glass with his bourbon.

Because of Stefan’s blood diet, he wasn't even close to be strong enough to take on Katherine, but since you and Damon drank human blood, together - you were strong enough to take it up against her.

You raised your drink and with one sip the glas was empty. Your face didn't twist, which is why Stefan knew it was better not to say another word now.

“It was nice meeting you, Elena.” You gave her a friendly smirk. “I’m sorry but I can’t help you.”

When you were about to head to the exit, Damon was already rushing in front of you. He gave you a look, that said more than his words could have. 

You stared at him, "Do you know what it feels like when your family doesn't even ask about you for years? Oh no, because at least one sibling did.“ You lifted your arms.

Damon’s mind drifted away for a second as he remembered a darker time in his life, a time when he had turned off his emotions again. You found him back then, after months of searching for Damon, you helped him to become himself again, only so that he could then leave you and keep looking for Katherine.

You pushed him aside, “My Bags, in my room.” then you left the house.

________________

You didn't like staying to protect a stranger who also looked like the person you hated most. Still, Elena seemed different even if the story repeated itself, but she was important to both of your brothers and your brothers were important to you.  You knew if they tried to take down Katherine on their own they would both die trying, at least together you had a chance.  

But that didn't mean that you wouldn't try everything to be able to lead a normal life, at least as much as possible for a vampire.

________________

Now:

It wasn’t easy for you living with your brothers, you were still very disappointed with the real reason why they wanted you back. You tried to avoid them the best you could. 

You had decided that it would be a good idea to go back having a normal life, which meant to go to high school for at least the semblance of normality. 

“Hey Salvatore.”

You recognized the voice that was calling you. Smiling, you turned around while Tyler Lockwood already threw an arm around you.

“Hey, Stranger.” You grinned.

He scoffed, “Oh, come on. I had practice yesterday.”

“With a Cheerleader or the Team?” You raised an eyebrow. „You missed movie night.“

Tyler has become a good friend over the past few months, hard for some to believe, as Tyler was more interested in other things about women than just friendship, at least that's what they told each other at school.

Tyler pulled you into both of his arms, “Y/N,” he focused on your eyes, smiling softly. “You’re the only one for me.” 

You chuckled and pushed him soft away from you.

You probably wouldn't have become friends either, if you hadn't been assigned to a school project together. At first, Tyler flirted with you, but when he knew you were the twin sister of Stefan Salvatore, it stopped. During that time you got to know him better. Tyler was very popular at school, but he secretly seemed to have be a loner. Except for Matt, he didn't really let anyone get under his skin until you came.

“Do you’ve planes for tonight?” He asked but didn’t bother letting you answer. “Great. I’ll see you at 8 at my house, you’ll need a dress and a mask.” Tyler smirked.

“Tyler- I-”

He shook his hand and grabbed gently your face. “No, you’re not gonna get out of this. If I’ve to attend there, you too.” Tyler took your hand and spun you around. „I promise to show you my famous dance moves.“

You had to laugh but suddenly your face felt really warm. You quickly tried to hide it from him and put your hands on your cheeks, which made Tyler smile. 

You liked Tyler very much, against your brothers' will. Tyler's bloodline came from a long number of werewolves, the only thing that could harm a vampire, also they didn’t like him much. 

“You’re my best friend.” He added soft.

Your heart stung a bit, best friend, huh? You didn't change your face, on the contrary, you smiled and agreed. Even if you wouldn't admit it in front of him, Tyler was more to you, even if he didn't feel that way.

“Okay, I’ll come.” 

Tyler kissed your forehead. “Great, see you later!”

Anyways, you planned to got to the Masquerade Ball either way. Damon and Stefan argued too loudly this morning, probably they didn't know that you were still home, otherwise they would have been more careful and wouldn’t have mentioned that Katherine really was back and planned to go to the ball today. Otherwise you’d have hunted her down by yourself.

________________

While Damon and Stefan were trying not to seem to suspicious as they prepared for tonight, you put on your dress (X) and put your mask in your pocket. 

“Hey, Y/N” Stefan shouted. “We’ll be back late tonight, so don’t wait for us.” 

“No, no, no. Did I mention, no?” Damon complained when he noticed you in your dress coming down the stairs.

You smirked. “I got myself a dress that doesn't steal the show too much, don’t you like it?”

“You heard us this morning, didn’t you?” Stefan helped you with the stairs.

“She hates you too, remember?” Damon asked in a serious tone to cover up being worried. “Y/N, she wants you dead.”

“So what do you want me to do? You wanted me here, extra protection for Elena, do you remember?” You shrugged your shoulders. “Besides, I've already told Tyler that I'll be there. If I don't come, it will be obvious-” You paused and looked at your brothers. “-since you still have the moonstone.”

Your brothers looked at you questioningly. They hadn't told you anything for months, also hushed up that Katherine was already back in Town, but they probably forgot that you were looking for Katherine too. Your eyes and ears were everywhere. The sooner you found her, the sooner you and your brothers could be family again. She seemed also to be the girlfriend of Tyler's uncle and protecting Tyler was just as important. 

“First, I don’t care about that dog-” Doman started.

But your brothers didn’t want you to have anything to do with the plan. The plan was already done and that included you and Elena to stay it out.

He took a deep breath. "-Second, fine." Damon came to you, now he couldn't hide how worried he was about you. “But you’re only there for distraction. As soon as we trapped her, you go home and wait for us. If anything gets wrong, you grab Elena and run.”

Damon knew you wouldn’t give up and since you apparently knew as much as they did, you could really be of help. Katherine has been jealous of you since she saw you for the first time, you were in her way - as well as Elena was. You both would be her target.

Stefan was clearly against including you into the plan. You haven't really gotten close in the last few months, which was hard because of Katherine and all that was going on also you didn’t make it easy for him, but Stefan didn't want to put you in any danger either.

“Come on, Stefan.” Damon spoke. “You’re still not strong enough to go against Katherine. Y/N can at least distract her long enough so I can stab her.”

“Sorry Boys, but we need Y/N.” Bonnie entered the front door. “She’s the best bait we’ve besides Elena. No offense.” She smiled friendly in your direction.

“None taken, Witchy.” 

Stefan shook his head and went out the door. You looked at the floor and wondered what Stefan's problem was. He wanted you to come back and help get rid of Katherine. Damon gave you an approving look and touched your shoulder.

“As soon as this is over, we’ll be a family again.” 

His words surprised you. Stefan and you were more like family people. Which was why Damon’s words meant very much. You turned to him and put your arms around his back. He took you in his arms and kissed your head.

You let him go and went outside where you found Stefan leaning against the wall, hands in his pocket while gazing at the stars.

________________

“Hey big brother.” He ignored you. “You look handsome in a suit.” Stefan looked in the direction of the forest, you went to him and leaned against his arm. “At least, Elena will be safe.”

He turned to you irritated. "You think that's the only thing I care about?!"

You raised an eyebrow, "Well, at least for the last few months. You didn't even pay much attention to me at school - although we have the same classes together."

Stefan didn't say a word, but in his head he agreed with you. "I didn't want you to come home because of this, not to be a bait.." he couldn’t look at you. “The last time we saw each other, I was nothing more than a callous ripper. Y/N, I hurt you.”

You had almost suppressed it, but with Stefan's words the memories came back. You tried together with Lexi to bring back Stefan’s emotions after he flipped the switch, which worked - but what you brought back was anger. At that time he was angry that you had left him alone with Damon to build a normal life with trying to suppress vampirism.  In this time he was much stronger than you. He forced you to drink blood - lots of blood, or he’d kill random people while Lexi and you had to clean up after him. 

“You were right to be mad at me.” You replied softly.

“True but I shouldn’t have said all those things or made you-” Your eyes met. “Do you remember, how as children, we always knew exactly when one of us was feeling bad?”

“Twin Telepathy.”

“Call it how you want but it got stronger as we became vampires. I made myself believe, if you’d stop drinking blood, our connection would be gone.”

Stefan and you never said it out loud. But it was the truth. When you became vampires, you felt each other's emotions even stronger than ever before, even over the years and at a distance. If you concentrated you could feel each other.

“I know this was the reason why you left us in the first place. You couldn’t bare handling my feelings and your own, Damon and you never wanted to be Vampires.”

“Oh, cut the crap. We’re over this.” You replied harsh. “The only thing you should have done would be to contact me for the past 50 years.” You turned around to see Damon standing in the door frame. “That goes for both of you.”

You took Stefan's hand and went with him over to Damon to take his hand too. "Lets get rid of that bitch and get our lives back.”

“You’re such a pain in the ass” Damon spoke.

“Shut it, you missed me.”

_____________________________

This actually took me some hours, I’d really love to know what you think about the first part :)

Here is Part Two -> Here!

#tyler lockwood #tyler lockwood fanfic #tyler lockwood fanfiction #tyler lockwood imagine #tyler lockwood x reader #Stefan Salvatore #stefan salvatore imagine #stefan salvatore fanfiction #stefan salvatore imagines #stefan salvatore x reader #damon salvatore #damon salvatore fanfic #damon salvatore imagines #damon salvatore imagine #tvd #tvd imagine #tvd fanfiction #katherine pierce #katherine pierce x reader #elena gilbert #elena gilbert imagine

[fanficimagery]

‘Cause We’re Gonna Be Legends; pt. 2

Summary: Imagine wandering the Boardwalk with your friends. A group of boys catch their attention and while your friends are doing everything to catch their attention in return, they are apparently more interested in the oblivious girl of the bunch who doesn't care to bat her eyelashes at them. You. [Part Two]

Words: 9.5K Warnings: This is why I don’t do sequels. I think they’re a good idea and then halfway through I lose interest/have no idea what the hell I’m doing. But I powered through and this was the end product. Enjoy. Also I forgot to mention in the first part that Max doesn’t really exist in here which is why he’s never mentioned.  Homophobic slur? It happens once, but it’s in there. There’s also a dash of spice, if you catch my drift. Lol. Implied (but it does NOT happen) sexual assault. And violence.

For a few days, your fever is up and down. Thankfully it wasn't as bad as it once was, so you're able to actually wear the appropriate clothes for having guests over. Your girls are very apologetic for not being much help, but are excited when you start looking better and even planned a night to stay in with you. Unfortunately, but fortunately for them, the night they stayed in with you happened to also be a night the boys decided to drop in as well.

They squealed when Paul sauntered in and immediately pecked your lips. Their eyes widened when Marko pecked your left cheek and Dwayne your right. And then their jaws dropped when David brought up the rear, smirking, and pecked your forehead. The room was quiet- too quiet- and the girls were surprised whereas the boys were smug. Assholes.

So instead of movie night, you answered the questions your girls threw at you while the boys went out to pick up some food after everyone but you chipped in for because Marko wouldn't take your cash. Ruby was the only one extremely impressed with your situation while the other three remained skeptical. You and Ruby tried to make light of the situation, especially for afterward when you would be able to explore your relationship with the four boys, but you knew it would take a while for Emily, Becca, and Jessica to come around. If they came around.

Ruby had stuck around for as long as she could when the boys returned with the food, but the moment the other three girls ate they quickly made excuses to leave. Sadly, Ruby followed. You weren't able to hide the fact you were hurt by their actions, but Ruby assured you it would all be okay.

It wasn't. Not really. Because when you were fully recovered and called to hang out, half the girls were quick to make excuses. Only Ruby and Becca were fine with your decisions, and made attempts to hang out without Emily and Jessica around.

And Ruby and Becca? Those two were apparently a force to be reckoned with now that they knew you had four boyfriends. From one day to the next your entire wardrobe had been altered, and though it was nothing too bad you weren't exactly stoked to be comfortable in new clothes at the drop of a hat.

So walking down the boardwalk one night, you keep alternating between pulling on your tank top in hopes it'll become looser and tugging on the hem of your shorts in hope that they'll be longer. Your jackets had all mysteriously gone missing and you were going to punch your friends the next time you saw them.

Before you know it you're coming upon four familiar motorcycles. The boys are all missing, but you know it's only a matter of time before they come back. So instead of searching for them, you lean against the railing behind their bikes and wait for them to come to you. Fortunately, you don't have to wait long.

David and Dwayne spot you first, but in the few days you've gotten to explore your compatibility with each of them you noticed that these two were not into public displays of affection. So when they greet you, they smile and nod, and make sure to brush up against some part of you as they make their way to their respective bikes. Marko blows you a kiss from where he's got Paul in a headlock and then when Paul is set free he practically beams at you.

"Hey pretty lady, come here often?" He teases as he sidles up to you.

Your nose wrinkles as you laugh, accepting his loud smacking kiss to the lips. "That was so cheesy."

"But at least it made you laugh." Paul slings his arm around your shoulders, tucking you into his side, and you can't help but try to melt into his side to hide.

"Where'd your friends get off to?" Marko wonders, eyeing you up and down. "Your outfit doesn't seem like something you'd pick out yourself."

You sigh. "If they're smart they won't dare to cross my path for the foreseeable future. Those assholes switched out my entire closet and stole all my jackets so I couldn't cover up."

"Well if you ask me, those friends of yours are pretty smart." David lights up a cigarette, smirking around it before blowing out a steady stream of smoke. You flip him off.

"I could deal with it if I had a large flannel or something, but nope. They took everything that would offer a few inches of cover-up."

"Well why didn't you just say so, babe." Paul moves his arm from your shoulders, shaking out of his own jacket. The chains hanging from it jingle at all the movement and you smile as he drops his jacket over your shoulders.

You slide your arms through the sleeves, flexing your fingers from where they barely peek out. You grab both sides of the jacket and close it over your chest, crossing your arms over it to keep yourself hidden and are content when you realize the hem of the jacket falls a few inches further than what your shorts covered.

"Oh no," Paul mumbles. "I made a mistake."

"What?"

"You look so cute in my jacket." You huff a laugh but notice his gaze sweeping you up and down, and his tongue peeking out to lick the corner of his bottom lip. When he meets your gaze then, you gulp and shiver when you see the heat simmering there. "Come on. You're mine for the night." He grabs your wrist and tugs, and you stare at your other three boys in surprise.

David and Dwayne grin, and Marko cheerfully waves you off. "Don't get caught!"

You don't have time to process Marko's words before Paul's dragging you down the boardwalk stairs. You do your best to keep up, laughing, and then yank back against Paul's grip once you hit sand. "Hey, slow down! You have longer legs than I do and speed walking through sand is not easy."

"Sorry. M'sorry."

Paul whirls around, cupping your face in his hands and leaning down to hungrily press his lips against yours as he walks you backward. Your hands wrap around his wrists as you lean up on your tiptoes in an attempt to match his enthusiasm and you can't help but smile when you stumble along the way. His tongue sweeps across the seam of your lips and when they part he's quick to lick into your mouth before tugging your bottom lip between his teeth.

You moan quietly and then gasp when your back hits something solid. The moment you pull back to look around your surroundings, Paul attaches his lips to your neck. He tilts your head this way and that way so he can lick and nip to his heart's content, and down to your collarbone. Only then do you realize you're underneath the boardwalk now.

"Paul." Your hands delve into his hair, gripping and tugging when you feel him going lower and lower. "Paul!" You then laugh. He's already on his knees, face level with your stomach as he stares up at you with a hooded gaze. "All this because I'm wearing your jacket? Seriously?"

He numbly nods. "Yes. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to get back to it."

His hands go to the button and zipper on your jean shorts, and you catch his hands with your own. "We're not having sex here. I'm not about to get sand in places it's never supposed to be."

He chuckles huskily, opening his jacket further and pushing up the hem of your tank top. He kisses you just below your navel. "No sex. Promise," he says just as he gives your stomach a kitten lick. You squirm and quietly whimper. "But I really need to get my mouth on you."

"Fine." You gulp, but then clear your throat and slowly release his hands when you realize no one's around. "But if we're called out by anyone, I'm kicking your ass after you kick theirs."

He laughs. "Deal."

Paul makes quick work of unbuttoning your shorts and yanking them down your legs along with your panties. They get caught on your shoes as you try stepping out of them, so Paul pulls those off as well. Your feet are only in the warm, damp sand for a couple of seconds before Paul's lifting your right leg and setting it over his shoulder.

You gasp as you're suddenly opened up and a little self conscious as Paul stares at what he's only heard about from Marko and Dwayne so far. One hand finds its way to the wooden column at your back and the other splays across your lower abdomen before sliding down to shield your pussy from his view. Though the moment your fingers brush over your tingling folds, your breath catches and Paul smirks up at you.

"Don't worry, baby girl. You've got absolutely nothing to be nervous about." With one hand trailing up and down the leg you're still standing on, Paul uses his other hand to pull yours away from his prize. He licks the wetness from your fingers and a whimper catches at the back of your throat as he groans in appreciation. "Fuck. Marko's right. You do taste good."

"Babe," you whine. "You need to- I need you to-"

"I got you."

Warmth covers your mound and you moan aloud, cursing when Paul's tongue then licks you from entrance to clit. Your right hand tries to find purchase on the column at your back while the other delves into Paul's hair, smoothing it back before gripping it so you can see his face properly between your legs. Teeth nip, his tongue swirls, and you can't help your thighs tensing before you're grinding against his mouth.

"Please, please, please."

Paul pulls back, obscenely licking the wetness from around his mouth as he chuckles. "You're really wet, Y/N. Do the others know just how much you enjoy screwing around in public?"

"Paul," you mewl. You try to pull his face closer once more, but he doesn't budge. Anger slowly rising, you manage to narrow your eyes at him. "If you don't get your mouth back on me, I'm gonna-" But while you were busy getting angry, you hadn't seen his hand moving towards your center. So when you feel two of his fingers tease your entrance, you pause and then moan when he slips them inside.

Slowly pumping his fingers in and out, Paul chuckles. "What was that?"

"N-Nothing. Just please. Make me cum."

"Well since you asked so nicely."

With his fingers slowly building you up and his mouth now working you over once more, you give yourself up to the pleasure and no longer care about being seen or heard.

Half an hour later, you and Paul rejoin the others, hand in hand. All three boys smirk knowingly at you and you roll your eyes when Paul refuses to let you go with any of them.

"Enjoy yourselves?" Marko wiggles his eyebrows.

Paul immediately assures them you did and you shrug, refusing to feed his ego or give the boys any details as to what exactly happened. You had a feeling they either already knew somehow or would know soon given how open they all are with each other.

The next few weeks are a bit of blur, but a good blur at that. You're a little sad that you hadn't seen your girls in a while since the boys took up so much of your time, but you eventually let it go when you realized they didn't make an effort to reach out anyway. So learning to let go, you busied yourself with working during the day and then spending the nighttime hours with your boys. You'd never been with someone who you actually wanted to spend every waking hour with, so you lived in the moment and just enjoyed the crazy shenanigans your boyfriends got up to.

You had figured intimacy with them would be weird, and in the beginning it was since there were four of them, but things just kind of fell into place after the first time you slept with each of them. Each boy was different when they got you alone, and you were pleasantly surprised each of them met needs even you yourself had no idea you had. None of them were jealous or possessive when it came to each other, but they made sure to let anyone else know you were off limits.

They'd even taken you to see where they lived and you were shocked. Given their styles and personalities, you didn't know what to expect of their living situation, but a sunken hotel was not it. But the more they showed you around and you realized they had water and generators for some electricity, the more you liked the seclusion of it all. And when you finally got comfortable being there with them, the boys made what was basically a nest for you- a mattress with numerous blankets and pillows, and sheer curtains hanging around it all. So now that you had your own bedroom of sorts, more often than not that's where you ended up with Dwayne since he was the only one who actually liked to roll around in your sheets and cuddle for as long as you'd let him afterwards.

Still naked and with sweat cooling on your bodies, you're laying in the crook of Dwayne's arm with your chest pressed to his side and a sheet covering you from the waist down. He trails fingers up and down the spine of your back, and he chuckles every time he runs across a ticklish spot that sends you arching into him with a sleepy giggle.

Just as you're drifting off, however, the curtain around your bed is pulled open and David appears with a cigarette dangling from between his lips. "You gonna stay in bed all night?"

"Hmm. You put out that cigarette and you can join us." Dwayne's hand freezes on your back and David raises his eyebrows at you. "What?" You huff. "Don't pretend like none of you haven't thought about it."

A moment passes and then David smirks. "Tempting, but the other boys are itching for a night on the boardwalk."

"A night on the boardwalk? More like Marko's itching for a fight," you muse. "He hasn't been chased off the boardwalk in about three days. He must be bored." David chuckles and flicks away his cigarette after one last drag, entering your little nest and crawling into bed so he's situated behind you. You groan as he starts to trail his fingers along your back, inching lower and lower until he's teasing just under the sheet at your lower back. "If we go out tonight, someone's gotta drive me home earlier than usual. I got work in the morning."

"What time?" Dwayne asks.

"I gotta be in the office by ten." You giggle when David's fingers walk over your waist, kicking back at him when he digs his fingers in a little. As you settle down, you sigh. "Why do I have to be an adult? You guys have it so easy here. It seems like you don't worry about a thing." Fingers cease their movement on your back, and David and Dwayne share a calculating look over your head. "Sleep all day, party all night. If only."

David smirks and hope sparks up in each of them. It couldn't be this easy, could it? It would surely take more convincing. But before David or Dwayne can ask you more about your sudden annoyance at having responsibilities, Marko and Paul are entering the main room from one of their dark tunnels they always disappear into.

Soon. We'll talk to her soon.

It's one of the rare nights that all the boys are busy and you have too much energy to remain in your apartment all by yourself. You haven't heard from the girls in weeks, even though you've seen them on the boardwalk when you were with one of the boys, but they never made an attempt to approach you even after you had smiled and waved at them. Apparently those friendships were officially over, so when the boys disappeared you had no one but your own self to do things with.

They had warned you not to wander the boardwalk or the beach by yourself at night, but you've been doing it long before you had met them so you didn't think anything of it as you headed out.

The boardwalk is busy so you find yourself heading down onto the beach where it's a bit quieter. It's lit up thanks to the many flashing lights from the boardwalk, but you find yourself wandering further and further down the beach. There's a party going on around a small bonfire and when you see the numerous surf-Nazi's, you head towards the water in hopes of skirting their group without being seen. Unfortunately, Fate has other plans.

The first catcall has your shoulders hunching. You know better than to rush away because it'll only encourage them to chase, so instead you hesitantly look over at them and offer a wave. After that, you face forward and continue walking.

More catcalls ring out and the flirtatious invitations to join them get louder and louder, which means some of them are getting closer and closer. Your anxiety spikes and dread fills you. You should have stayed on the boardwalk.

"Hey, sweet face, where are you going?" Someone asks, slinging an arm around your shoulders and turning you back around to face the party. "The fun is this way."

"Oh I'm sure," you nervously chuckle. "But I just came out here to clear my head. I'm not in the mood to party. Sorry."

"Aw. Don't be like that. The night is young!" The way he moves his free arm as he talks and the way he slurs his words a little lets you know you're in trouble. "Come meet my friends. A couple of them could use a pretty little thing like you to lift their spirits."

You make the mistake of not putting up enough of a fight and regret it the moment one of the guys around the fire somewhat recognizes you. "Hey, aren't you that girl those queers on bikes pass around?" You tense as his friends laugh and cheer. "You hoping to be passed around by some real men for a change, little girl?"

You grimace and hug yourself as if that would help protect you. "I'm not hoping for anything other than to get home. Your friend is the one who dragged me over."

"And yet here you still stand," he muses. "Sit. Have a beer before the fun begins."

"No thanks. I really should get going. My friends are waiting for me."

Just as you turn, a hand grips your wrist. "Oh, but we insist." The pressure of the guy's grip tightens and you gasp in shock.

You knew you were in trouble before, but now it's a lot more real and scary. The more you struggle to get free, the more the guys around the fire laugh and jeer. The fear in your eyes only eggs them on more and the two of the guys shove you back and forth, never letting you get more than a few steps away from them. There's a boombox playing music and the moment it's turned up to its max, you scream.

You scream for someone to help you when a couple of the guys toy with their belt buckles and promise you loads of fun, you plead for them to let you go when they pull at your shirt, and you sob when you're shoved into the sand. You attempt to crawl away, but you're quickly flipped onto your back and someone grabs at your ankles.

You scream again.. and then the impossible happens.

Something flies down from the sky, plucking the individual holding onto you before flying away with him. There's screaming, this time coming from up above, and then a shower of liquid. Your heart pounds furiously as you smear the droplets on your cheek with your fingers and then whimper when you make out its color. It's red.

All the guys who'd been so sure about themselves and what they were about to do moments ago are now screaming, being tossed around and ripped apart one right after the other. You scramble backwards, keeping low to the ground and hoping to not be seen by whatever is taking delight in their destruction.

Only one of the creatures fully steps into the firelight, laughing, and you freeze up when you recognize some of its- his features. It's David.

A whimper escapes from the back of your throat as you whisper his name in question and David's gaze snaps in your direction. His cruel smile falls and the others around the fire slowly turn towards you. Paul and Marko are bloodied around their mouths, their expressions falling when they realize what you've just witnessed.

As you slowly stand, you keep your eyes on them and inch backwards as if they'd attack you at any second. You cease breathing all together and then turn to run for your life. Only you get a few steps in before you run smack dab into a person, falling back into the sand on your ass.

"Please don't kill me!" You cry. "I w-won't say anything. I promise!"

The person squats in front of you and you realize then it's Dwayne. He's not as bloody as everyone else, but the evidence of what he's done is plain as day on his chin and down his bare chest. You whimper. "W-What are you?"

His throat bobs as he gulps, but instead of answering he asks, "What are you doing down here on the beach?"

"I- you guys just.." You stutter on a sob, shaking your head as if you can't believe what you just saw.

"You're in shock." David walks up on your left and you flinch at his close proximity. "Let me take you home."

"Why?" You sniffle. "You rather kill me in the comfort of my own home rather than on the beach with the rest of the scum?"

"We're not going to kill you, Y/N."

"No? You sure as hell had no problem killing these guys just now!" You say. When you realize just who- or rather what- you're talking back to, you snap your mouth shut and avert your gaze.

"I'll be taking Y/N home." The tone of David's voice brings a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. You're so sure that there's no walking away unscathed from this. "You boys are on clean-up."

When David reaches for your hands, you don't bother fighting him. You feel absolutely drained and it doesn't matter if you scream or attempt to run. Whatever the boys are, you know they could overpower you in a heartbeat. But the second you're standing shakily on your own two feet, you yank your hands out of David's grasp and cross your arms over your chest.

For a second you think you see hurt flash across David's expression, but it's gone within the next blink. His expression hardens and you flinch when he grabs you by your elbow to guide you away. His grip isn't hurtful, but it's obvious that if you try to yank away from him again you won't be going anywhere.

The closer you get to the populated boardwalk, the easier it is to breathe. Your heart even calms some, but when David leads you towards his bike you start to drag your feet. "My car. I d-drove here."

"One of the others will drive it back." You frown at him, but he doesn't see because he busies himself with climbing onto his bike. You take his moment of distraction to glance around at the people walking around you, part of you hoping to catch someone's eye, but David's voice squashes that hope right away. "Do you really want me to kill whoever it is you plan to tell about what you saw? Be smart, Y/N. We have to protect our secret."

"And what exactly is the secret, David?"

Though the situation is anything but funny, he smiles at you. His smile makes your stomach churn. "Get on the bike, Y/N. It's time to go home."

Your bottom lip wobbles under his intense stare, but you quickly put a stop to it and suck it up. Hesitantly reaching for his shoulder, you then cautiously climb up onto the back of his bike. You grab onto the sides of his jacket rather than wrap your arms around his waist, and shakily exhale when David doesn't mention it and starts his bike instead.

The ride back to your apartment is a tense one and you hop off the back of David's bike before he's even cut the engine. Your arms are once again crossed over your chest and your heart starts to beat faster when you realize he intends to follow you inside.

He stays one step behind you the entire way up to your apartment door, but he remains standing in the hallway when you enter your apartment and turn to face him. "What happens n-now?"

"What do you think happens now?"

"Goddammit, David!" Your frustration mixes with your fear and you end up crying again. "I just saw you-" you pause, angrily wiping away tears and lowering your voice, "-all four of you rip apart those surf-Nazi's like it was nothing. And you- it looked like you were eating them and I- I don't- I can't-"

"Hey. Hey, shh." David takes a step closer and moves to cradle to face in the palm of his hands, but you jerk out of his reach.

"I should be running for the hills and screaming at the top of my lungs about what I've just seen."

"Yeah? Then why aren't you?"

"I don't know." You blink the tears from your eyes and sniffle. "I wanna scream and I wanna rage and I wanna cry more than I already have, but for some reason- for some goddamn reason my heart hurts just even thinking about uttering a word of what I saw."

"What do you want from me? From us? Name it and it's yours."

"Time. And space." You gulp. "I need to process everything. I'll- I'll come to you when I'm ready."

David's barely given you a nod before you're shutting the door in his face. You deadbolt it and turn to walk further into your apartment, your resolve completely vanishing the further away from the door you get. You make it to the bathroom, hands trembling as you grab onto the sink, and when you glance at your reflection in the mirror you blanch and make a beeline for the toilet.

The splatter and smears of red on your face and neck is enough to make the contents of your stomach make a reappearance, and you spew it all into the toilet. Flashes of David, Dwayne, Marko, and Paul and their demonic looking features pop into your mind one right after the other, and you heave one heart wrenching sob after the other.

You don't know how long you spend in the bathroom, but by the time you leave it after having climbed into the hottest shower you could manage, your throat feels raw and eyes puffy. You take your time getting dressed in a set of pajamas and then fall into bed with a tired sigh. No matter how much you wanted to drift off into sleep and forget everything that's happened, you knew it'd all make an appearance in your dreams for weeks to come.

For the next few days all you do is sleep, work, research, eat, and shower. Staying away from the boardwalk was probably the easiest and hardest thing you ever had to do, but being alone gave you time to think about all that you've seen and all that you've read up on. You had managed to watch the evening local news for any reports of missing individuals, but were unsurprised when none were reported. After all, surf-nazi's were riff raff and the authority didn't seem to care about them.

Sleep was hard to come by because the more research you did, the more it made you paranoid. You became jumpy, were constantly nodding off when you were supposed to be working, lied to your co-workers when they asked if anything was going on, and by the end of week one your boss had had enough. So after such a long week, you're more than content to stay in and wait on the Chinese food being delivered to your house.

Several boxes are scattered around your living room, filled with articles of clothing and various other items you don't mind parting with so you can sell for some cash.

A knock sounds from the front door and you get up from the floor to go answer it. You grab some cash along the way and readily pull open the door with a polite smile. It completely vanishes, however, when you're met with Dwayne who's holding up your takeout almost as if it were a peace offering. "Um. Hi?"

He flashes a faint smile. "Hey, Y/N."

The sound of his voice makes your heart beat double, but surprisingly not out of fear. You're actually surprised and really happy to see him, even if he looks so unsure of his presence. So you fight off a smile and keep your tone neutral. "Dwayne, what are you doing here?"

"We're all worried. And we miss you. The boys don't know I'm here, so don't be mad at them."

"I.. I'm not." You gulp and finally grin at him. Sighing, you step aside and gesture him inside. "Come in. You don't have to stand in the hallway." Dwayne hesitantly steps in and you shut the door behind him. You pocket your cash, knowing he won't take it from you, and lead the way into the kitchen. "I hope you're hungry. I'm not gonna eat while you sit there and stare at me."

There's a huff of laughter behind you, but the following question asked is not one you're expecting. "You're moving?"

When you turn towards Dwayne, you see his expression is now completely closed off. Following his gaze to the various packed boxes, you shake your head. "Oh. Uhh, no. I was let go from my job, so I plan to sell some things. I have enough saved up to pay the bills for a couple of months, but if I don't find anything by the time that cash runs out then I could use whatever I make by selling my stuff."

The relief pouring off of him is obvious the moment he realizes you're telling the truth. He sets the bags of food down on the kitchen table and immediately sets out to distributing the food equally while you grab some drinks. Then seated next to you, Dwayne says, "Sooo, what now?"

Using a plastic fork two twirl some noodles on it, you shrug. "I'm not sure. I'm obviously not running for the hills, but I'm not sure of my welcome back into the group after being silent for so long."

"Well David is angry," he says. Your eyes dart to meet his gaze, hurt settling in your expression, but he's quick to soothe you. "He's not mad at you. Not really. He's more angry at the fact that you found out about us the way you did. He wanted to ease you into it. We all did."

You snort. "Yeah. Because finding out you're all murderous creatures of the night is something you can ease someone into." You shake your head. "Unbelievable."

"Marko is more hurt than anything. He thought you really liked us enough to be able to handle the monsters we are and Paul- Paul is doing his best to be indifferent about it all. But if I'm being honest, he's in the same boat with Marko. They're both lovesick idiots."

"And you?"

"What about me?"

You gulp. "How are you feeling about.. everything?"

"I'm here, aren't I?" Dwayne flashes you a smile and something in your chest eases. You grin and finally take your first bite of food. "After everything was made official between us, I saw something in you. I knew our secret would freak you out, but deep down I also knew you'd come around."

"You were that confident, huh?"

"Yes."

"Fair enough."

The next few minutes passed in relative quiet, you eating and glaring every time you caught Dwayne staring. He'd smile at your glare and then take a bite of an eggroll so you wouldn't tell him anything or banish him from the kitchen while you were still in there. But eventually you finish and pack away anything left over for a midnight snack.

Then heading towards the sofa in the living room, you curl up on one end while Dwayne takes his spot on the other end. "If I ask you some questions, will you answer them honestly?"

"I can do my best."

"That's fine." Slowly stretching your legs out, you hesitantly tuck your toes under Dwayne's thigh and smile when his cold fingers dance along your ankle before wrapping around your calf. "So I think my main question is, is what exactly are you? I tried to do some research based on your features I saw that night, but I narrowed it down to two species."

"Which are?"

"Demon or vampire. The teeth, the eyes, the.." you pause and gulp, nose wrinkling, "choice of food. I guess it can pass for both, so.."

"Vampire." You immediately tense, but the moment passes and you exhale as you relax back in your seat. "Anything else?"

"Yeah. Can I see-" Before you can even finish your question, Dwayne was already shaking his head. "What? Come on! I've already seen you at your worst. Well not you, but the others. Just.. show me."

"Why?"

"Because my apartment is nice and lit, and I can actually look at you in the face now rather than looking elsewhere."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

Dwayne hesitates but eventually angles his body towards you. You sit up a little straighter, pulling your legs back towards you and curling them beneath you. He closes his eyes after taking a large lungful of air and you watch in fascination as his features seem to ripple right before your very eyes.

Quietly gasping, you find yourself leaning towards him. There are a few telltale differences, but the most prominent are his now slightly protruding cheekbones and brow line, and the yellow and red eyes when his eyelids fly open at the faintest touch of your thumb against his bottom lip. He seems to cease breathing all together when your thumb pulls down his lip and you huff a laugh of disbelief at the sight of his fangs.

"You still you?"

Dwayne takes a moment to answer. "For the most part."

"Can I try something?"

He hesitates in answering again, but his resolve crumbles when he notices your gaze stays locked on his mouth. Eventually he nods and you scoot in even closer until you're placing one knee on either side of his hips and your hands settle on either side of his neck with your thumbs just under his jaw.

Dwayne sharply inhales as you settle in his lap, his hands now lightly holding onto your waist. "What are you doing?"

"Seeing if I'm really capable of having non-human boyfriends." Slowly leaning in, you're very mindful of his fangs when you press your lips against his. Feeling the coolness of them makes you smile and you can't help the urge to run the tip of your tongue against one. But in doing so, it seems to snap any restraint Dwayne had.

You squeak when you suddenly find yourself on your back on the couch. Your legs have subconsciously wrapped around his waist, your hands on his chest beneath his jacket as he hovers over you, panting heavily. His eyes are back to their normal brown, but his other features are still on display even as he does his best to make them go away.

"Should I take this as a compliment?" You ask, nails lightly scratching at Dwayne's chest as he groans. "Do you have a fang-on for me?"

"You're making this incredibly hard for me, sweetheart."

"Ooh. I would hope so." You thrust your hips upward and smile as Dwayne finally laughs.

With one hand by your head to hold his weight just inches above you, his other hand is on your waist beneath your shirt as he runs his fingers up and down your skin. He turns his face so it's half hidden by his shoulder and hair, and when he faces you again all his vampiric features are gone. He lazily smiles at you, but his expression softens. "Are you sure about this? About us?"

You sheepishly nod. "I mean I can't guarantee I'll be super chill when you guys.. grab a bite to eat," you say, nose wrinkling, "but I can try. We'll probably have to come up with a system so I'm not with you guys when you do so."

"Being with us won't be easy. We're never-changing, Y/N. You'll eventually need to be too."

It takes a second for his words to sink in and when they do you momentarily stop breathing. You open your mouth to retort, but snap it shut a moment later and frown. You sigh when Dwayne starts to retreat and the both of you sit side by side. "I- I know. Okay? It's just a lot to take in right now."

"David won't want you to take too long."

"Of course he won't." Falling silent, you reach for Dwayne's hand and lock your fingers together. Then laying your cheek against his shoulder, you say, "I guess it's a good thing I lost my job then, huh? Cutting ties won't be so hard now."

"I'm sorry we dragged you into this."

You huff. "Are you?"

A moment passes and then, "No." You laugh and tilt your head so you can see Dwayne's face. "You had David hooked the second you smiled at him. The rest of us were obviously intrigued, but it was David who made it known that your friends were off limits because he wanted you."

You immediately sit up, eyes wide. "Wait. Were you guys going to eat my friends?!" Dwayne has the audacity to look nervous and you can't help but snort. "Seriously?"

He shrugs. "How else do you think we get our meals? But you were a loose end. You knew they were with us and it'd have been suspicious. They were lucky that we saw you though. Your presence saved them."

You shake your head in amused disbelief, chuckling softly. Slowly, but surely you end up leaning against his side once more. "I have a lot of apologizing to do, don't I?"

"Maybe not. The boys might appear angry at you, but believe me when I say they're not. I think they'll be happy if you show up."

"Tomorrow then? I'll meet you guys at the boardwalk."

"Okay."

Getting ready for the boardwalk the following night is a lot more nerve wracking than you thought it'd be. According to Dwayne, no apologies were needed because he understood that a secret such as theirs was mind blowing. But he only spoke for himself and you had no idea how welcomed you'd be with the other three. So dressing to impress, you cut up a black shirt that David left behind weeks ago. You cut it into an off the shoulder crop top and pull on a jean skirt you had hidden in one of your drawers. Next are some ankle boots that had been a recent purchase and you tease your hair a little to give it a messy look.

When you figure you've wasted enough time, you decide to just bite the bullet and go. The drive to the boardwalk is short but tense, and you feel like you're going to be sick the second you're standing outside your car and locking up. So after taking a few deep breaths, you pocket your keys and head for the boardwalk stairs.

You try not to wrap your arms over your stomach or chest, so you hook your thumbs into the back pockets of your skirt. You keep your head held high, ignoring the suggestive comments, and then almost chicken out the moment you spot your four boys. Dwayne is the only one who's actively scanning the crowd, so he's the only one to spot you. He grins and you narrow your eyes, and then one by one the others take notice.

Paul and Marko immediately cease their antics upon sighting you, and David's expression closes off as he smokes his cigarette. You stop just a few feet in front of them, nervously shifting from foot to foot under their stares. "So, um, I came here with every intention of apologizing, but on the drive here I realized I have nothing to apologize for."

David's icy gaze subtly narrows. "Is that so?"

"Yes!" You snap your mouth shut, gulping, and then take a step closer so you don't have to talk as loud. "I know I asked for time and space, but two or three days would have sufficed."

"If that was the case, then why didn't you come seek us out?"

David poses a pretty good question, but you shrug it off. "I had such a shit week that I didn't even think about it. It wasn't until Dwayne showed up last night that we talked about everything and I realized some things."

Marko leans forward. "What things?"

When your gaze darts to the curly haired blonde, you smile softly at him. "That if you guys are still interested, then I'm all in." The words have barely left your mouth before there's a vampire wrapped around you. You laugh, your hands grasping onto the sides of Paul's jacket to steady yourself. With his face shoved into the side of your neck, you maneuver the both of you so you can turn to stare at David while still holding onto the clingy blonde. "So what do you say? Are we okay?"

David stares you up and down, taking a moment to gather his wits and make sure you're not lying to him. "Just like that?"

"Um, yeah? I'd like a week or so to get some stuff in order, but I- I like you guys too much to just walk away."

Paul pulls away then, his hands grasping the sides of your face as he presses his lips to yours. You let him control the kiss, parting your lips just so, so his tongue can seek out yours. However, he gets a little too enthusiastic and bites down on your bottom lip with blunt teeth, and you groan just loud enough for him to pull back and let you collect yourself.

When your eyelids finally flutter open, you find that all four boys are looking a little smug at your reaction. So in order to knock one of them down a peg or two, you smile sweetly up at Paul. "Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure, babe."

"Do all vampires get hard when their fangs are licked or is that just Dwayne?"

Paul blinks at you in astonishment before letting you go to turn around and it's your turn to smirk. Dwayne is no longer amused, and Marko and David are not doing anything to hide the fact that their amusement is now directed at their brother.

The brunette frowns at you. "I hate you."

"You almost nailing me on my couch last night says otherwise."

Paul and Marko finally lose their composure, and you smile as the two boys have to lean on each other as they laugh. And though they're making fun of him, Dwayne finds himself fighting off a smile at how happy you seem to be. As the two of them pick on their brother, you look back towards David and step into his personal space.

The two of you stare at one another and the way he's looking at you, you feel the urge to apologize even though you said you wouldn't. But before you can utter a word, he's asking, "What happened that your week was so shit?"

You huff a quiet laugh. "I lost my job. I have some money saved for a few more month's rent, but I seem to recall an offer to move into the cave not too long ago."

David's lips twitch. "And if you really are all in, then having the apartment isn't necessary."

"It's really not."

In a move that normally goes against David's nature, he pushes off the railing and closes the distance between the two of you to capture your lips in a chaste kiss. You smile against him before he pulls back, his gaze darting between both your eyes. "Let's go for a ride. This is cause for a celebration."

Paul and Marko whoop in excitement, the both of them kissing either of your cheeks before they clamber onto their bikes. Dwayne has to walk behind you to get to his and when he does he leans down to nip your ear. You squeak and he wolfishly smiles at you, and you find your knees trembling in excitement for what later may hold.

It's no question as to whose bike you're climbing on the back of, but you do hesitate at David's side. When you take too long to climb on, he stares at you questioningly. "What's wrong?"

"I, uh, I didn't think this all the way through." You gesture to your skirt and groan when he starts to smile. "No one's going to offer their jacket, are they?"

"Nope."

"I figured." Sighing, you glance around before grabbing the sides of your skirt and inching it up your thighs so you can comfortably sit behind David. Paul whistles and you glare at him over your shoulder before climbing onto David's bike. Once you're settled and you realize no one is moving, you frown until you see Paul and Marko hungrily staring at one spot and one spot only. You follow their gaze and glance down, and realize your panties are on display with the way you're sitting. "Stop," you whine, practically plastering yourself to David's back in hopes of blocking their view.

Marko laughs. "It's nothing we haven't seen before."

"Yeah, but.. the staring. It's weird."

"Sweetheart, your whole life is about to become ten times more weird. Best get used to it." With that, David's bike roars to life, followed by the other three.

The ride to the cave makes something in your chest ease, and you find yourself letting your head fall back and letting the wind carry away your gleeful screams. David drives a little more recklessly than usual, but you know he won't do anything that will truly harm you. But all too soon you're arriving at Hudson's Bluff and are hurriedly climbing off of David's bike so you don't accidentally flash anyone.

"So what exactly did Dwayne tell you about us?" Marko wonders.

"I didn't really ask questions other than the main one," you say. "I know you guys are vampires and I'm assuming some of the folklore is true considering I've never seen any of you during the day, but I figured you'd tell me what I needed to know when I needed to know it."

"So you don't know all that we can do?"

You gulp under their suddenly amused expressions and take a step back. "No..?"

"Oh babe, you're in for a treat." Suddenly Paul is in front of you, arms wrapped low around your waist and clutching you tightly to his front. "Hang tight."

You're grinning at him until you feel the ground beneath your feet vanish and then your eyes widen. You glance down and your arms immediately wrap around Paul's neck. "You assholes can fly!?" All the boys laugh and then Paul starts to hover higher and higher. "W-Wait. Paul, don't!"

But your words fall on deaf ears and the next thing you know the wind is rushing by you. You shove your face into the side of Paul's neck and your legs wrap around his waist. Paul's laughing and you're laughing, but it's mostly to cover up your fear. And though you can't see anything, you can feel when Paul turns or dips in a dangerous maneuver to get you to scream.

But when he doesn't get the reaction he was hoping for, Paul eventually comes to a stop mid-air. "Look, Y/N." You shake your head. "Come on, babe. Open your eyes."

"I- I can't. I'm not normally afraid of heights, but there's just something about being so high and not being buckled in properly to anything that's really kind of terrifying."

"Is that why you're close to pissing your skirt?"

"Not funny, Paul!"

His hands smooth down your bottom, sliding lower until he's cupping the back of your thighs. "Come on. I promise I will never let you fall. At least not until you're one of us."

You huff a laugh and pinch the back of his neck. "You're an idiot."

"But I'm your idiot."

"Yeah. I guess you are." Slowly, but surely, you lift your head. Your arms tighten once more around his neck when you realize just how high up you are and you allow yourself to look around. "Oh." Twinkling stars and low clouds are all you can see for miles, but when Paul tells you to look in one direction you can see the boardwalk all lit up off in the distance.

"See? I'm not a total jerk."

"No, you're not." Looking at Paul now, you let your forehead rest against his and smile faintly at him. "You're probably my favorite out of the four, but after this little stunt you are not teaching me how to fly when it's my turn."

He laughs and chastely kisses you "I'll take it. Now be prepared. I'm flying us back into the cave."

You shove your face back into Paul's neck, but move just so, so you can actually see your surroundings fly past you. However, your eyes clamp shut when you see Paul enter the cave entrance and they only open when you feel yourself being dropped onto cushions. Opening your eyes, you realize you're in your nest.

You smile. "You kept it. I for sure thought you might have gotten rid of it."

"Dwayne wouldn't let us," Paul says and then guiltily cringes. "I'll admit I thought about tearing it all down, but Dwayne took to protecting it."

Your smile falters. "Well I guess I deserve that."

The boys go quiet and you awkwardly glance around at everyone. Eventually David gestures to the couches. "Come eat. While Paul was off terrifying you, Marko got some food."

As David takes his usual seat on the wheelchair, Dwayne leads you towards the couch where he immediately sits down next to you. Paul plops down on a crate and Marko distributes Chinese takeout containers.

"Chow time," Marko smirks. "Eat up, girl."

You and Paul are the only two to enthusiastically dig in, and you only become suspicious when Marko can't stop staring at you with his amused little smile. You're grateful there's nothing in your mouth because the second the words how are those worms, Y/N leave David's mouth, you lower the container into your lap and refuse to look into it. You do, however, feel the container slightly moving in your hand as if something inside was.. wiggling.

"David," you say through clenched teeth, "if I look down and there's anything other than noodles in my container, I'm going to douse you in holy water. Don't ruin Chinese noodles for me. You know they're my favorite." Marko and Dwayne both laugh, and when you finally chance a look downward you're relieved to see no worms. You sigh in relief. "Let me guess, vampires can mess with the mind?"

"More or less, but only humans."

"Duly noted."

David goes on to explain some things as you finish up eating and you find out that holy water, garlic, and the lack of a reflection in a mirror could be overcome in a private home should they be invited inside. That was good to know, especially the tidbit about the sunlight and the various way a vampire could die after being staked.

Paul puts some music on, and he and Dwayne take turns dancing with you. You end up spooking a few of Marko's pigeons, but make it up to him by kissing his pout away.

Later, you're not sure how much time has passed, you find yourself falling into David's lap. You're breathing heavy as you try to catch your breath and are even a little sweaty, but David doesn't seem to have a problem with it as he brushes the tip of his nose from your jawline to your neck.

You giggle. "Is this another one of your vampire things? I now realize you guys sniffed me a lot, particularly around my neck."

"You smell good," he says before moving upward and placing a light kiss under your ear.

"My blood?"

"Yes and no." David leans back so you're now face to face. "The scent of your blood is appealing, but there's another scent that's just.. you. I don't know how else to explain it, but you'll be able to smell us when you're turned."

"You mean you don't smell like decaying bodies?" You grin to let him know it's not really a serious question, that you're only teasing, but David still snaps his teeth at you in false admonishment. You squeak and then laugh, kissing his cheek in apology. "I'm only joking." As you settle down so your head is resting on his shoulder, you find yourself saying, "Now I'm curious as to what you boys smell like. You better not stink."

"If you're so curious, why not become half? You'll be able to pick up our scents, but you'll still be operating as if you're human until you feed from a human for the first time."

His words give you pause and you quickly sit up, blinking at him. "Half? What do you mean I can be a half?"

"Half vampire," he shrugs. You frown and David grins when you startle at Marko's sudden appearance behind him, a bejeweled wine bottle in hand. Only then do you realize the music has stopped and the only sound in the cave is the occasional cooing of a pigeon. "You take a drink of this," David says while grabbing the bottle from Marko and uncorking it, "and you become a halfling. You'll still be able to do what you need to do during the day, the only downfall being your eyes will become sensitive and you'll find yourself wanting to sleep the day away until the sun sets. You can power through it though."

You can't take your eyes off the bottle and you find yourself reaching for it, bringing the bottle up to your nose to sniff the contents. It smells fruity, almost, and just underneath that is a hint of copper. "So what," you gulp, "a swig of this and I'm a half vampire? Just like that?"

"Just like that."

Looking up and around, Dwayne and Paul have stepped closer to see what you're going to do. Everyone has neutral expressions and you realize you're suddenly anxious to join them sooner rather than later. "Are you sure you guys want me? If I become one of you, I have nothing and no one to turn to should you find yourself bored of me."

"Don't get insecure on us now, sweetheart," Paul muses. "If we weren't sure of you, David wouldn't have offered."

"Sleep all day, party all night," David says. "Never grow old, Y/N. Join us."

Sleep all day, party all night. If only. 

Your words, which felt like they were uttered so long ago, bring you some comfort. It reminds you that you once wanted what they had even if you didn't exactly know what that was at the time. So now- now you find yourself almost anxious for what the future will bring now that you're so close to having what they have.

Slowly smiling, you huff a laugh and then with a faint roll of your eyes you bring the bottle up to your lips. "What the hell. Bottoms up."

The second the too warm liquid hits your tongue, your eyes flutter shut and the boys cheer all around you.

#the lost boys x reader #the lost boys imagine #the lost boys #david the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #marko the lost boys #paul the lost boys #david #dwayne #marko #paul

[moonofthenight]

Skip a Beat

Part One

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Credit for O’Knutzy goes to @lumosinlove

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Thank you again, love @spookypotato

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Same CW’s as before! Enjoy the little “date” ;)

Chapter Three Part Two

The not overthinking didn’t quite work out. He has been standing in front of his wardrobe for the last 10 minutes, thinking about what to wear. He thought about calling June, but that would be too embarrassing and his feet would fall off any minute so he just pulled out his favourite black mom-jeans, a white T-Shirt and threw it on. His hair looked good enough to go out, so he grabbed the gray jeans jacket and his white converse, as well as his keys, wallet and phone before he jogged down the stairs to get into his car.

Sid’s was a 15-minute drive away from his apartment and it looked like the typical Italian restaurant. It was warm inside and soft Italian songs could be heard over the chatter and laughter.

Leo and Logan were already waiting for Finn, sitting at their usual table in the back.  

“Harzy, over here!”

Finn turned at Logan’s voice when he stepped into the restaurant and he could see them waving him over.

“Harzy?”, he said when he was close enough to be heard and slid onto the bench next to Leo.

“We are professional hockey players, don’t expect us to not come up with 100 nicknames”, Leo said, bumping his shoulder playfully.

“You are what now?”

“Oh right, we didn’t tell you. Sometimes I forget there are people that don’t watch ice hockey. Yeah, we play for the Gryffindor Lions. I am a goalie and Logan’s a right wing.”

Finn looked very confused and Logan smiled.

“You have no idea what we are talking about do you?”

Finn shook his head.

“Come to a game with us. Then you will see”, Logan said with a genuine tone in his voice.

“Maybe.”

They ordered their food and drinks- or well, Logan and Leo ordered the food and drinks, both of them insisting to pick for him.

“How come you ended up in Gryff? Your accent sounds different.”

“You have time? It’s going to be a long story.”

Both boys looked at him expectingly. Finn didn’t know why he offered to tell them; he normally didn’t like to talk about it, but something about those two made him trust them.

“Well, I was born and raised in New York, lived there my whole life and it’s where I started dancing. I went to the All Star Studios as a child and eventually started studying Classical Ballet and Dance Performance as well as standard dances and I made my degree.”

“But- ugh, it’s still difficult to talk about it, but I was working too hard. I was at the top of my career and I pushed myself, didn’t listen to my body and as it was bound to happen, I injured myself. Badly. So badly that I needed to give up my career and well, I couldn’t stand to stay in New York, sooo I moved here. Sorry, that was probably not interesting for you.”

Finn’s eyes where everywhere but their faces, he felt a bit ashamed.

“Don’t be silly, we asked. I’m sorry about your injury”, Leo said with such a soft voice it made Finn want to cry.

He was about to respond, but was interrupted by the waiter.

“Alright boys, pizza tonno for all of you.”

Finn waited patiently for it to cool down, driving Leo and Logan mad. He eventually picked up a slice and instantly moaned when he took a bite, causing Logan to choke on his drink.

“Oh my god, this is delicious.”

When he opened his eyes again, both boys looked incredibly smug.

“Told you.”

They ate in silence for a while, enjoying the food. By the time Leo spoke again, the pizza was almost finished.

“You know Lo, we are actually getting better at dancing. I’m looking forward to the wedding.”

“Me too, it’s going to be amazing.”

Logan took Leo’s hand, starring at him lovingly. Finn felt his heart sinking. Wedding.

“Oh, I- congratulations”, Finn pressed out with a tight smile.

Leo’s head snapped towards him.

“What? Oh no, our friends are getting married! Two of the team, you’ll love them.”

And suddenly, Finn felt like he could breathe again. He shouldn’t care, but he did and it was not good.

“Okay who is up for some cocktails?”, Logan said, clapping his hands once.

“Let’s pick one for each other!”

“Oh no”, Finn shook his head rapidly.

“Yes, absolutely.”

Before Finn could protest, Logan waved the waitress over to them.

“I pick one for Finn, Finn you pick for Leo and Leo you can pick for me but make a good choice.”

It was almost adorable what a scene they made out of this. All of them pointed secretly at the drinks, smirking. The waitress gave them a small nod and moved behind the bar.

“Let’s play 20 questions while we wait”, Logan said, looking Finn in the eyes, waggling like a puppy, “We will ask you 10 and you can ask us 10, okay?”

How could Finn say no to that?

“Fine. But I’ll start. How long are you playing for the NHL?”

“I’m only one year in but Lo has been playing for two.”

“So, you two met through hockey?”

“Yes.” Leo grinned, pressing a kiss to Logan’s knuckles.

“Oh, I never asked. How old are you?”

“I’m 24 and Leo is 19, the little baby.”

“Wait. How can you be 19 but be like, twice of Logan’s height?”

If looks could kill, Finn would be dead now, but Leo laughed loudly, throwing his head back, tears making their way over his face.

“Finn, you are on thin ice right now”, he managed to say between his laughter.

It made Finn laugh too and he blew Logan a kiss, who only scoffed in response.

“It’s cute.”

Finn regretted saying it, the warmth creeping up his neck, but Logan just smiled at him.

“Ehm alright, I have three questions in one next. What is your go to work out song, why and what do you normally do while listening to it?”

“I normally just press shuffle on my playlist because I am horrible at making decisions” Leo grinned, answering fast.

Logan thought for a while before giving his answer.

“I would say Guns and Ships from Hamilton because it’s hella motivating. I warm up to it.”

Finn gasped, his eyes starting to shine.

“You like Broadway?”, he practically screamed, getting really excited.

Leo groaned next to him.

“No. Not you too!”

Both heads snapped towards him, looking rather offended by what the blonde had said.

“But it’s so good!” they said in unisono.

Then looked back at each other and high fived over the table.

“Alright, next questions. Do you have siblings and how many do you have?”

Leo was the first to answer again.

“I am an only child but not spoiled! Looking at you Lo.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night. I have three sisters; I love them all.”

Finn nodded, “Okay a difficult one. If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be?”

“Italy", both said at the same time.

“It’s a bit of a dream of ours.”

“Well, not so difficult as it seems. Last one! Favourite movie?”

“Tough. I’ll go with Aladdin”, Logan said.

“Aladdin?!”

“I grew up with three sisters, what did you expect?!”

Leo shook his head fondly.

“Mine is Pride and Prejudice.”

“Oohh, I love that one.”

Logan slammed his hand on the table.

“Our turn”, he said, grinning excitedly.

“What is your favourite colour?”

“Blue.”

“What did you want to be as a child”, Leo blurred out next.

“A dancer, actually. My grandma took me to the ballet every now and then.”

Leo looked at him, smiling.

“Dog or cat?”

“Dogs. Puppies.”

“You have one right in front of you.”

Leo and Finn laughed at that.

“Do you do anything else besides teaching to dance?”

“I’m studying English literature but just for funsies.”

“Left-handed or right-handed?”

“Right.”

“Do you have a sibling?”

“I do. Alex, he is my older brother. Jesus why are you going through those so fa-“

He was cut off by the waitress for the second time this night.

“Three cocktails for the three gentlemen.”

Finn eyed his one skeptically when it was placed in front of him.

“I’m scared”, he admitted.

“Just drink it!”, Logan grinned wickedly.

He held it up, sniffed it first before taking a sip, starting to cough immediately.

“Logan! For fucks sake. I am a dancer; I don’t drink alcohol! You need to warn me. Fuck, is this gasoline?”

“No, tequila”, Leo laughed.

Logan was unable to breathe, let alone talk. He was bend over, laughing so hard he was nearly wheezing, causing the other two to laugh even more.

-----

Finn went home happy that night, laying in his bed, thinking about Leo’s curls and eyes, and dimples - god those dimples.

But right as he was drifting off to sleep another name popped up in his mind – Logan’s name.

Oh no.

#lumosinlove #sweater weather lumosinlove #o'knutzy #dance au #Part Two #Skip a Beat #Skip a Beat Chapter three

[hauntedelation]

You

Gif found on this blog, I couldn’t find the original poster :(

Description: You weren’t sure about him, this melancholy paramedic who you met through a close co-worker. Yet from the start, everything felt right. Several months stretched by with you growing closer and closer to Evan. It was pleasant, sometimes more than that. For a while there you could say that you were in the most bliss you had ever experienced. 

Except, something called to you. A feeling in your gut that transpired during a long-awaited reunion on the night of Valentine’s Day.

Pairing: Gender Neutral Black Reader x Evan Marshall

A/N: I recently watched Blood Creek and again, I really liked Henry’s character. Evan is a sweetie and of course this doesn’t follow the plot of the movie. I don’t really know where this came from, I didn’t mean for it to end so...puzzling? 

I wrote this with gender neutral pronouns and with a Black reader in mind. This was supposed to simply be sad and angsty but, I liked how it went. I still mean for this to be a sad romance, hopefully I portrayed that well enough. The man just needs that affection in his life. (Proofreading happened, sorry for any errors.)

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: fluff, hint of smut at the end (18+), cryptic dialogue, and a dash of angst

~Please enjoy guys! <3

➽─────────────❥

When Walter Marshall told you that he had a younger brother, you purely rolled your eyes and sent him a snort. For as long as you knew the stoic detective, he never mentioned a hint of having any other family in his life—other than his daughter and his ex-wife. 

The man uttered it with a shallow weight like it had been a musing about the weather, "Oh, when you come over this Sunday, I can introduce you to my little brother, Evan."

With a turn of your head, you made a face that resembled a scowl; but, you weren’t irritated. Walter had caught that look and hid his amused smile behind the lid of his coffee mug.

You both had clocked into your adjoining shifts and sauntered side-by-side down that long, fluorescent hallway. Walter's comment emerged the moment you reached that left turn into your office. When the words finally soaked in, you paused.

"Wait, you have a brother?"

That was the detective's cue to turn and continue walking a few doors down to his office. He possessed something of a smirk under that dark nest on his face. And, with your frantic, "Walt? Walt how come you never told me—"

He only replied with, "You never asked."

➽─────────────❥

You recall the mystery brother standing by an old grandfather clock in Walter's living room. His eyes were fixated on the television screen in front of him, his body subconsciously leaning toward the thrill of the game.

There was a beer in his hand, and he took a long swig from the glass rim before letting that hand drop and adjusting his stance to rest against the wall. He wore a soot-colored canvas work coat with a light grey hood below. From what you could see, under that hood was a dark navy uniform.

Within the loud commotion of another touchdown, the detective abandoned the traditional method of gaining his brother's attention and settled on placing a hand on his back. 

Evan was in the middle of another swig. Upon turning around, his brows raised and his fatigued eyes shined at the sight of Walter standing behind him. In a pleasant greeting, Evan pulled the beer away from his lips, placed the bottle down, and greeted his brother with a big hug.

"Walt! Hey, sorry I couldn't catch you when I came in."

Once the two stepped away from each other, the air between them was light and affable. For the first time with knowing Walter, you heard a buoyant laugh fall from his lungs. 

"Don't worry about it," he waved away the apology, "I wanted to introduce you to a friend of mine.”

Walter stepped back and gestured his hand to you.

"This is Y/n, a dear co-worker and someone who has been with me through many hefty cases. They haven’t annoyed me too much, so that’s why I figured it was time to introduce them to you.”

You clicked your tongue at Walter's comment and took a step toward the stranger. With a soft smile, you shifted your hold on a glass and held your hand out toward him, "It's nice to finally meet you, Evan."

The look in his eyes was curious and they drifted over Walter's for that short moment. A grin crept on his stubbled face. When those eyes slid down to you, they straightaway lost focus and softened.

Without breaking his gape on you, Evan removed his free hand from the confines of his jacket pocket. He encased your digits in his and shook. 

You remember distinctly, how the warmth from his hand enveloped yours, almost like it chased the lines in your palm.

➽─────────────❥

It was a little over five months ago, five months from first shaking Evan Marshall’s hand, from observing how he would stop and let his eyes glide over your face, from listening to his steady voice and wondering exactly how it was that he didn't have an accent like Walter. 

'We don't share a Mother,' he said.

Evan was American and was living in West Virginia for a while before he decided to move back up to Minnesota. He told you he was down there to take care of his sick Mother while studying to become a paramedic. 

You remember leaning against the kitchen counter, and watching how the low light illuminated his face. Evan was an average man, not as broad and mountainous as his older brother, but, he still towered over you. 

He was incredibly gentle, albeit hesitant, but throughout that night you could see him slowly unfurl before you.

Where are you from?

What do you like to do? He asked you.

While taken with his interest, how you spoke induced many smiles and responses from the man. Eventually, you asked him the same.

He was currently a paramedic in town. He doesn't get very much free-time due to it but he seemed to enjoy cooking, playing the piano, or listening to music whenever he could. 

Evan pointed to a large bowl containing some sort of pasta salad to the right of you.

'I made my own dressing this time, I wanted to see if it would improve the recipe.'

You took a closer look and saw how the bowl was just about empty. When you thought more about it, you recalled having a sizable helping of that pasta much earlier, and couldn't help grabbing more.

Under the kitchen light, you could have sworn that you witnessed Evan's ears burn when you pointed that out.

➽─────────────❥

You made it a goal to learn as much as you could about him. There wasn’t many things that you could hold on to, but you had a handful.

He liked to listen to the old rock songs sometimes, the grunge and garage sounds. He listened to just about every band with that vibe but, he seemed to enjoy the ones from way back when the most. 

Every time you heard that music from his truck radio, it brought you back to being younger, where you would watch the T.V. and see teens in acid wash jeans with cigarettes between their fingers. 

You could just see him when he was younger: hair long, unkempt, his ears holding silver earrings, and black boots on his feet with words etched into the side that probably meant something to him at the time.

Evan shook his head at you and hid a smile behind his hand, ‘You were close...I was more into sneakers, but I still wrote dumb stuff on the sides of them.’

You were close, the photo he showed you that day did show a young man with his curly hair in his face, the look of a perfectly misguided youth. Now, Evan was an upstanding man, he didn’t wear those same clothes that he used to. 

Still, he liked to keep that part of himself, to remember who he used to be, and to hear those songs that his younger self hung onto. You decided to as well.

You memorized everything that seemed to make him the happiest: going for long rides in his truck, holding his hand and walking with him with the night air surrounding you both, even dragging him to the grocery store just to buy your favorite bag of chips.

A recent one was laying in the sunlight and watching him play his piano. 

You never knew that Evan was as talented as he was until he sat down one early morning and decided to play. He was awfully timid when his fingers first grazed those keys, but, your kind words, your encouragement shooed away his apprehension. 

After that particular morning, Evan only wanted to play when it was just you two.

The Marshall brothers shared a similar woe in their blue eyes, it had to have been in the blood, but Evan possessed a more quelled spirit within him. You noticed from the way that he handled himself, how he would always cross his arms around his body as if he was shielding everything away. 

You could see the way that the man drank in your touch during the close moments you spent together, how those very eyes seemed to never want to leave your body. 

He was completely enamored with you. 

Those times you observed him, your teeth chewing at your nail, you would question to yourself:

How come Walter never told me about you, really? 

➽─────────────❥

"Get in the tub with me, please?" Your lips tickled the collar of his shirt and smoothed up over the swell of his throat. Below your mouth, and through his thin skin, you could feel the vibration of a hum crawling its way out of his body.

You did a lot for tonight, the 14th of February. Like some sort of fanatic, the bathroom was littered with red shiny balloons with images of cupid on the surface. 

He took in the condition of the heated room, drifting his attention from the candles sitting near the rim of the tub to the burgundy and cherry rose petals dotting every surface. There were towels, fresh soaps, and oils shelved on top of a rack. Next to those items were a change of clothes for the both of you.

You even purchased chocolates. There was a container set on the countertop, it was unopened and showcasing various flavors and coatings through the clear casing. They were tempting, though, in the back of your mind you knew that those packages would remain intact.

When he came through your front door, you had a plate full of his favorite food hot and ready. You had a feeling that Evan would be ready to eat, but you didn’t expect him to be as starving as he was. 

He had shoveled large bites of meat into his mouth, and while he did stop to enjoy the taste, you ended up returning to the table with his third plate.

Evan never failed to appear weary or to eat like he wasn’t deprived. During his worst, his skin was dusted pale, seldom words fell from his lips, and a shadowy curtain hung under his pretty eyes. The weight on his shoulders was heavy and you knew he would constantly fight to keep those lids open. 

Tonight was no different for him.

You hadn’t seen Evan in a little over two weeks. Your schedules, unfortunately, did not align and he happened to work the same grueling 24-to-48 hour shifts. When he first explained his lifestyle to you, it was rather strange and difficult to understand. 

‘You work a day or two at a time? Is that even humane?’

It was a standard though, at least with the small town that you all lived in. Evan was used to it and a large part of the time was him sitting at the station and waiting for the next 911 call. The silver lining brought him three days off after those long shifts. 

Tomorrow would mark the first of those three days with him.

So you called him earlier that afternoon, you had the holiday in the back of your mind and you planned to make it special. You asked him to come over once his shift ended, and he didn’t show an ounce of protest. 

It had been over 2 weeks.

While you were putting everything into place, laying down those velvet rose petals and candles, you worried. What if you were doing too much? This kind of thing would easily borderline sappy and romantic. You weren’t sure what you were aiming for while decorating that bathroom. 

But, you reflected, and you knew one thing.

Your heart was in the right place. Every dollar you put in on the colorful balloons, the bouquet, the food, you knew that it was well spent. As you looked to each item in the bathroom, you only wish you could have spent more.

It was all for him, it couldn't be that silly.

There you were, holding him in your arms, standing by a filled tub, and coaxing him, "I promise it will be relaxing. Please, let me take care of you, Ev.”

Though he was stiff when he first saw all of the decorations, the uncertainty layering his face slowly fell away. Evan let you grab hold of the hem of his shirt. You slipped it over his head, following after was the rest of his clothes. 

The garments were discarded to a pile in the corner of the bathroom. In return, Evan guided your clothes off of your body.

No words were added from either of you. The touches lingered and, as if you two were afraid, they were lighter than air. He gazed at your fingers working along the goosebumps on his chest and his stomach. 

Evan had a fascination with your ability to ostensibly paint those bumps on his skin. It was your gift, and ever since that first time you did it, he did not want anything else.

➽─────────────❥

Steam filled the entirety of the bathroom, smudging the mirrors and leaving beads of water to drip down the tile on the wall by the tub. The surface of the water met just under the rim and was littered with bubbles and rose petals. 

Evan’s legs stretched along the length of the tub, his knees bent at a slight angle and provided some space for his body. He leaned against the edge of the tub, his head resting against a folded towel. Under heavy lids, he watched how you rinsed the washcloth and folded it over the chrome water spout.

After helping each other wash off, you decided to soak in the water with him. There was no rush for the two of you and the aroma of the oils in the water had begun to soothe you both, Evan more especially.

His lids were fluttering as his head laid more weight on the makeshift pillow. You lounged back on the opposite side of the tub, with a tender smile on your lips. Your feet shifted to sit in his lap and you felt his hands move to gently grasp at your ankle. 

Evan peeked through his lashes and began to massage from your heel to the sole of your feet with his fingers. You leaned your head into your palm and took in his movements. While he continued pressing the tips of his fingers, wonderfully deep into your skin, you mused out loud,

"Shouldn't I be the one doing this for you?" 

He cocked a lazy brow at his hands and glanced to your face, a boyish grin pulling the corners of his mouth, "It's alright, and plus, you know how ticklish I am."

Your fingers crept under the surface of the water and toward the side of your torso, where his foot was resting. Evan's expression was soon morphing into alarm and he pulled his legs up with a light-hearted chuckle. 

His hold on your ankle was released and a teasing curl pulled on your lips. You began to shift your body to move closer to him, careful to not disturb the water and spill any over the rim. Evan fell quiet as he watched you close the distance between the both of you. Your thighs surrounded his hips and your hands moved to rest on the side of his neck and his shoulder.

He sat up more and followed the weight of you on top of him. You felt your chest press against the soft hairs on his and those wet palms smooth up your back. Evan looked up at you with a particular expression on his face, still not saying a word but simply filling his vision with you. 

It was too long. You studied his stubbled face, the dots of freckles on his nose. Your fingertips were brought up to brush around his lips up to his cropped hairline. 

You wiped at a remaining spot of shampoo near his temple from when you washed his hair. He titled his head and caught the pearly suds on your fingers, inquiring, "How come I couldn't wash your hair?"

Evan met your eyes and you slid your hands to his nape and his jaw.

"It isn't wash-day for me, that will be tomorrow," you chuckled. 

You figure that he would enjoy helping.

He bit at his lower lip and his arms tightened around your middle, pulling you closer. Between your legs, you brushed against Evan’s stiffening length. And kicking your hips into him drew hushed noises from both of your lungs.

Two weeks.

You don't want to sound dramatic, you don't want to sound clingy, but you almost forgot the feel of his body. Those calluses on his palms, the rhythm of his breathing in his chest, his scent, and how it blanketed you. It was all him, Evan, each little detail was renewing in your mind. 

He was longing as he traced your face, he always had, but tonight you could see something pulling him lower. 

You decided to pry, "Is everything okay?"

Evan released a sigh from the depths of his body, his dark brows drew together and brought a look of shame on his charming face. He dropped his eyes to the bubbly water around you. 

"I...I'm sorry we haven't seen each other."

He followed the other decorations around the room and lingered his stare on the balloons, "It's been really busy at the station, so many calls came in and, fuck...I forgot about today."

You shook your head and cupped his jaw in your wet hands. Your thumbs massaged his facial hair and over his lips. Evan's eyes fell back to yours, regret highlighting them and his contempt slipping away more. 

"Ev, it's alright, you know that I understand."

Your lips brushed over his, still gently stroking his face, still holding onto him. His eyelids fluttered as your hands slid down below the water, grabbing a hold of his erection and caressing. 

"Don't worry about all of this, I did it for you. Just let me..."

His hips were latent, they shifted to pressed into your palm. You broke contact with Evan and watched your knees position to sink onto him. Just passing the ridge of his head, the rest of him continued to stretch into you. From his lips, he breathed out a sigh against your cheek.

Evan slid his hands down to the side of your hips and there they remained, those same calluses brushing against your smooth skin. The candlelight flickered and shone near the corner of his eye, reflecting a warm amber on your face.

Again, there was something unreadable behind that reflection, you couldn't place your finger on it. He was looking at you like you were some sort of beacon, but it didn’t seem to reach too far in his lidded eyes.

"Just let me feel you, let me feel that you're right here with me."

Your forehead nuzzled into his the instant he settled fully inside you. It was honeyed, a thick pressure that burned away every other worry. The kind that worked through your muscles and broke every knot apart. You could feel it the moment all of him nestled inside. While you listened to Evan’s breathing, and how it began to pick up in pulses, you curled your arms around his shoulders melted into him.

➽─────────────❥

The moon was out by the time you laid into bed. Your curtains split and allowed in the cool blue light into your bedroom. It covered your shelves, your family pictures, and the dark screen of your television.

And, it fell upon your bodies, kissing the back of Evan's head, his cotton clad shoulders, and legs. You watched from your position on the bed, you hand bathed in some of the soft light, only if you lifted it from the surface of the covers.

You didn't move much though.

His breaths warmed your neck, the weight of his body not crushing but anchoring you there on your bed. You knew that he would be out as soon as you left that bath, and you let him slump on top of you. You let his lips slant against yours and his words slur into something incomprehensible. He tried so hard to stay afloat and to talk with you all night, but—

...but it could wait. 

He laid his head in the crook of your neck, his clipped hair tickling your cheek and the side of your jaw. You wrapped your arms around his back, and you shushed his throaty sounds. He fought it until you rubbed your palms against his back, and soothed your fingers through that short hair of his.

You watched the moonlight on the items of your bedroom, on his body that was slowly rising and falling, on his arm that was tucked around your middle.

It had been two weeks. 

Your mind raised that question, long ago that you never seemed to find an adequate answer to, How come you never told me you had a brother, Walt?

You remember the way he looked at you and his brother. You remember the fond expression behind his beard when he saw Evan laugh at your jokes, and how much Walter asked about him while you two talked. What did you miss?

Evan began to minutely fidget in his slumber, his arms securing around you and his face burying more into your neck. You closed your lids, shifted your head on the pillow, and breathed him in for the first time in two weeks. For the first time in that long while, you felt Evan’s weight seep clear to your bones. 

That damn answer, it remained prodding,  

.

.

.

Because you never asked.

➽─────────────❥

Taglist: @mansaaay @hope-to-hell @thetaoofzoe @feralrunaway @inlovewithhisblueeyes​ 

I really didn’t know who else would like to read 😅 if I missed you I apologize!

➽─────────────❥

#henry cavill x reader #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill fanfic #Evan Marshall #Blood Creek #henry cavill x black reader #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x black!reader #evan marshall x reader #henry cavill x you #evan marshall x you

[hatsukeii]

hey! could i request boyfriend! sousuke, makoto and rin headcanons? 💕 thank you!

yusyusyusyusyusssss

lmao I’m straight binging free rn deadass alr done w s2 and it’s been like 2 days 

Sorry but Rin>>>>>>>>>>

Anyways onto the headcanons!!

All gender neutral btw:33

*Gifs are not mine:>

🌊Yamazaki Sosuke🌊

- Yikes I feel really bad for not liking him until the end of season two-

- But anyways,

- Sosuke is um... kinda dense I feel like. 

- Like he doesn’t really catch up on cues.

- The two of you could be out and there would be these girls staring at him.

- He would literally pay no mind and get confused when you start pulling him away.

- “(Y/n)? I thought you wanted to go into that store?”

- “Sosuke those girls are staring, we can come back later.”

- “Huh? So they’re staring, what’s the deal?”

- “Sosuke wha???”

- Yeah, that. 

- But don’t worry, he has eyes for you and YOU ONLY!!

- Lmao I feel like he’s popular with girls but he’ll just turn them down straight up.

- “Sorry, I’m not interested, and I already have a partner.”

- Yike feelsbadman.

- Okay aside from all that, Sosuke is honestly an AMAZING BOYFRIEND LJAHDAWHD-

- He’s very stoic in public, kinda harsh, but he has that one soft spot for you.

- Extra soft spot.

- With you he’s super caring, very sweet, protective, just sjkhncef yes.

- Definitely gets jealous sometimes when you’re getting too touchy feely with another guy.

- God forbid you to hug a guy in front of him.

- He isn’t one to boast or show you off, he’s very lowkey with the relationship.

- Not much PDA, maybe a little bit of hand holding or finger linking but that’s about it.

- When the first years found out you two were dating let me tell you they were shook.

- Momotarou was very, very jealous, to say the least.

- Probably didn’t get intimate until like months into the relationship.

- And no I don’t mean intimate as in sex but like kissing or sth like that.

- It took him some time to warm up to the idea of just a relationship, but kissing? Even longer.

- He had this mindset where it was like oh if I kiss her then I’ll start drifting out of focus and I’ll forget about swimming and then my dream is going to be out of reach and-

- Yeah, he still kissed you so...

- When he found out about his shoulder you were the first one he turned to.

- He couldn’t let other people find out, but he trusted you.

- Awww he was devastated.

- He definitely didn’t cry for hours.

- And he definitely didn’t make your shirt wet from crying.

- And he absolutely did not refuse to let go of you at night when the two of you were about to sleep.

- Great boyfriend material, 9/10 would recommend bc of the obliviousness.

🐢Makoto Tachibana🐢

- He’s the man.

- Like THE MAN.

- You’ve reached the top of the list.

- God DAMN HE IS SUCH A GOOD BOYFRIEND.

- He’s genuinely caring, understandig, a tiny bit awkward, super sweet, if husbando material was a person, this would be it.

- He likes PDA definitely, but not like extreme PDA.

- Hand holding, maybe an arm around your waist, occasional peck on the cheek in public, about that.

- Not one to show you off but wouldn’t mind doing that if anyone asked about it.

- “Yeah, I do have an amazing partner, thanks for asking.”

- Likes it when you play w his hair!!

- He’s just so supportive of everything you do oh god.

- You like gaming? Hell yeah, he’s cheering you on. You’re an artist? Draw him like one of your French boys. You’re a dancer? Hypes you up when you’re busting it down.

- Awww and he’s such a dork too!!

- If you guys have a movie night, pick a horror movie.

- Baby is so scared of the paranormal that he’ll be clinging to you throughout the entire thing.

- “Mako, it really isn’t that scary-”

- “We’re moving out if this apartment is cursed.”

- “Mako you don’t even live here yet.”

- Jumps so hard at jumpscares and just shoves his head into your neck even further.

- It’s like an extra cuddle session.

- Except you’re laughing your ass off and he’s so scared that his soul probably left his body.

- Very soft spoken, and he hates to argue.

- I mean if you guys fight you’d usually just feel bad and apologise first.

- *cough because he usually never picks the fights.

- Lots of bear hugs and cuddles!!

- Is the big spoon, will forever be the big spoon.

- Okay he tries to cook he really does.

- But he’s so clumsy oh god.

- Usually results in the food being weirdly sweet, or an entire bag of cheese accidentally dumped onto the floor.

- Thank god he hasn’t burned the apartment down yet.

- Just help him cook man he can’t do it himself.

- Good at pretty much everything else though.

- Actually enjoys doing domestic stuff.

- I feel like some of the swim club members were jealous of you-

- Okay maybe not jealous but definitely envious.

- Honestly it seems like they would happily take your place and date Makoto but can you really blame them??

- Overall 10/10 because he seriously tried to sell your apartment on eBay once after a horror movie.

🦈Rin Matsuoka🦈

- Oh god where do I even start.

- ROMANTIC.

- SUCH A CLASSIC ROMANTIC.

- THAT SHIT IS LITERALLY CANON AND I LIVE FOR IT.

- Definitely PDA.

- Will kiss you in front of people just to piss them off.

- Shows you off ALL THE TIME.

- “Oh you can cook? Well so can my partner.”

- “Oh you need help with maths? My partner’s amazing at it gimme a second lemme call them.”

- Lmao it kinda annoys the swim club.

- “Rin senpai, we know you’re not single, you don’t have to rub it in...” ~Momotarou

- Does he care? No.

- Cheeky little shit, I love him-

- Will get jealous very, very easily.

- “Babe, that dude was looking at you weird, can we leave and come back?”

- “Awww is my baby Rin jealous~?”

- “Shut up:)”

- Will not hesitate to fight anyone that hurts you.

- Takes you on the cheesiest dates.

- Beaches, stargazing, nice restaurant, libraries, anything that he’s seen in those old romance movies.

- And he’s such a gentleman when it comes down to it too.

- Holds the door open, gives you piggyback rides if you’re tired, literally kisses the back of your hand before every date, you name it.

- Oh my god I’m so in love w this cheesy awkward dork-

- He’s got a lotta shit bottled up so do expect him to get moody at times.

- Nothing a good cry and cuddle session can’t fix though.

- Likes to feel you curled up against his chest while he plays with your hair.

- Presses your head closer so you can feel his heartbeat just like those kdramas portray it it’s not like he watches them or anything-

- If he’s crying then you’re gonna have to do the cuddling.

- Do the same to him as he does for you when the two of you cuddle.

- Except also stroke his hair and tell him everything’s gonna be okay.

- He needs someone to show that they care thanks for coming to my ted talk.

- When you’re upset he’ll probably start crying too.

- He can’t stand to see someone he cares about upset.

- Hypes you up whenever he gets the chance.

- Will do stupid shit just to see you smile.

- He’s actually very emotional and sensitive, so please take care of him.

- The dynamics in the relationship though like wow they’re insanely good.

- The two of you are just straight vibing.

- Overall 11/10 because I’m clearly biased😌💅.

#free! iwatobi swim club headcanons #free! iwatobi swim club #free! imagines #free! x reader #free! rin #free! sosuke #free! makoto #rin matsuoka headcanons #rin matsuoka x reader #rin matsuoka #sosuke yamazaki #sosuke yamazaki x reader #sosuke yamazaki headcanons #makoto tachinaba #makoto tachibana headcanons #makoto tachibana x reader #manga #anime #x reader

[nostalgiaruinedme]

Home

Prompt: Secret Revealed TMNT verse: 2012 Characters: Karai, Splinter, Leonardo, Raphael (brief appearance), Michelangelo (brief appearance), Donatello (brief appearance), Shredder (mentioned) Relationships: No romantic relationships. Family feels - Karai & Splinter & Leo & Donnie & Raph & Mikey AO3 Link: Here

Very light angst, mostly in talk about a sad past but the story is focused on a more hopeful future. Mostly comfort. Vent fic.

Summary: After her first few days of living in the lair, Karai thinks about what it means to finally be home. Set during S2E21, "Vengeance is Mine"

Other Notes:  I'm not going to lie, this fic isn't that great and the writing is pretty weak compared to my other work. The ideas are all over the place and yeah... but I wrote it after something shitty happened in my own life and it was me attempting to get my own thoughts into focus. But vent fics can be awful I decided because this is really personal to me. This also only vaguely pertains to the prompt but it inspired it, even if I strayed a lot from my initial idea. The secret revealed was Karai's real identity of being Splinter's daughter. Honestly tho this is not very “bad things happen” but oh well. I already wrote it 

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When Karai was young, she always wished for a beautiful future.

She never would have admitted it; no, dreams of hope and light were scoffed upon in the Foot, dismissed as childish fantasies by all (and Karai had never been a child). So when asked what she wanted in the future, Karai always stated the same thing: she wanted her father to rule. A perfect future would be ruling as his second in command, watching the Foot dominate the planet after they had finally gotten their revenge on the man who ruined their lives... Hamato Yoshi. That was her vision for the future.

But privately, she dreamed.

She dreamed of a day her father would stop pushing and forcing her ahead, when he would be proud of the woman she had become. He would settle down, take a break from his plans for revenge (if he couldn't retire completely) and he would breathe too. They would start to live, and her father would listen to her for once. Of course, they would never leave the Foot Clan—she loved it too much for that—but maybe, just maybe, they could stop searching for revenge and could experience life too. Maybe her father would listen to her when she swore this obsession would get them all killed... and maybe he would trust her word as much as she trusted him.

She dreamed of a chance for peace. She dreamed of hope, of family, and of trust.

But never in a million years had she dreamed of finally finding it in the sewers of New York City.

"Haha! Got you, Donnie, I got you good." Mikey taunted a now soaking Donnie, the shredded remains of a pink water balloon still covering his skin. Karai grinned as she watched Michelangelo dance around him, reaching out to poke his nose. "You can't beat Doctor Prankenstein, son!"

Donnie slapped his hand away, glaring. "That's the third time today, Mikey! Where are you even getting these? You- Hmmph!"

Cutting off his words, Mikey slapped a hand over Donnie's mouth, shushing him insistently. A glance behind her told Karai what had caught the young turtle's eye—Raphael had just returned home and was heading into the dojo. Mikey grinned towards Donnie, letting go of him to pull out another water balloon from behind his back.

"Don't say a word!"

Donnie sighed and rolled his eyes, already turning around to head back to his lab. "It's your funeral," He called over his shoulder as the mischievous grin grew across Mikey's face. 

And Karai leaned back on her hands, watching as the turtle ran from the room to find Raphael. Watching the turtles had become a favorite, and most amusing, pastime of Karai's since she'd moved into the lair a few days before, after Leo and his team had saved her from her so-called "father". Without the rigorous training and missions of the Foot, she had found that she had a lot more free time on her hands. Since she hadn't had the chance to develop much as far as "hobbies" go, she'd taken to simply observing the lair and the people in it. And in that time spent observing, she had discovered a few very interesting things.

The turtles were a true family. They acted like it in private too, and it had never been an act to try to draw her in like she had supposed at one point. They truly acted like the brothers they were to each other.

"Your brothers," A quiet voice in her mind reminded her, "They're your family too."

And it was true. Since first stepping foot into their lair, Karai had felt more at home than ever before, and the family had welcomed her into their fold without question. All of them had. Even Raphael, who Karai had been sure still hated her, was making an effort to treat her as his sister. He struggled, sure, and all of them were still a little unsure of where she fit into their little puzzle, but they were trying as hard as they could. And even better? They were happy about it. The change to their family was a positive one.

And Karai felt safe for the first time in her life.

"You watching the show?"

Karai looked up to see Leo approaching her, a friendly smile on his face. She frowned ever so slightly in confusion. "Show?" She asked, looking towards the blank TV screen.

"The Raph and Mikey show," Leo clarified. "I saw Mikey head in there with that water balloon. Any second now, he'll be running out here screaming with Raph right behind him."

Karai laughed, "I wasn't planning on it, but that does sound fun. Sure, I'm here for the show-"

"MIKEY!!"

No sooner had the words left her mouth did the event happen. Mikey ran out of the dojo yelling with a soaked and angry Raphael following right behind, the two running circles around the main room without a care to mask the sound of their steps. They ran and ran, getting closer to being caught and shoving the other off before running even faster. Eventually, they retreated into the kitchen, still yelling and screaming the whole way.

Karai and Leo shared a look before they dissolved into laughter.

"This what you expected?" Leo asked her. Karai paused.

"Not really," She admitted, "It's definitely... different from the families I'm used to. But it's a nice surprise."

"Different?"

"Not many people were really a family in the Foot," Karai said, "Sure, every once in a while there were a pair of new recruits who were siblings, or a mother who brought her son into the clan. And, of course, me and..." She let those words trail off, not entirely sure how to refer to the man she had thought was her father for so many long years. He was the Shredder, of course, but referring to him in the context of 'families in the Foot' didn't feel right anymore. She shook her head. "But no one actually acted like it. No one cared for the others as much as everyone does here."

A gentle silence drifted over the lair, and Leo looked down with a slight frown. The hesitance on his face was obvious as he considered his next words, unsure how to ask whatever it was he wanted to say. Karai raised one brow.

"What?" She prompted. Leo avoided her eyes.

"Was it off-putting?" He asked slowly, "Just... it sounds like a big change, I guess, and a lot to take in after a life with Shredder. Was it hard to deal with all at once?"

Was it a big change? Yes, of course, but not in the way Karai had expected. When she escaped that prison the Shredder had locked her in, she expected it to be like a bandage being ripped off. Harsh, painful, and burning before the pain subsided to reveal healed skin. While it would hurt, it'd be worth it in the end, and the relief of living in a place she was finally loved in would hit her like a tsunami and wash her away into a brand new life.

But it wasn't like that at all.

The change was big, but it was so gentle and soft, she almost hadn't noticed it. One day, she was in a cold cell being lied to that she was loved by the parent who locked her out in the cold. The next, she was in warmth and care and comfort. She was surrounded by those who were willing to put in the effort to love her and she was happy. The change wasn't a tsunami washing away the pain at all... No, it was a warm blanket being pulled up to her chest that wrapped her in love so slowly that she wasn't sure how she ever could have ever survived without it.

"It wasn't off-putting at all," She said, turning towards her younger brother and smiling. "I promise. You guys have made the change easy."

Leo grinned, relieved. "Good." He said, before both of the two jumped at the crash heard from the kitchen.

"Raph! It was funny!"

"What have I told you?!"

Leo grimaced, glancing towards the kitchen and sighing. "I better go deal with that," He said, standing up. "But after patrol tonight, we're bunking out here to watch a couple of movies. If it goes well, I mean. You should come too."

"This is where I've been sleeping anyways, do I really have a choice?" Karai teased. Leo blanked, looking five seconds away from blabbing an apology, so Karai rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I was just messing with you. I'll be there, Don't worry."

"Oh, good, that's great!" Leo grinned, "Then-"

"DOCTOR PRANKENSTEIN STRIKES AGAIN!"

"YOU HAD ANOTHER ONE?! I'M GONNA-"

Leo groaned and sped off towards the kitchen, already shouting the two's names. Karai rose to her feet, but otherwise stayed where she was, just watching and running over the plans for later that night in her head. Patrol would be nice, but she'd be lying if she said she wasn't excited to come back afterward to watch a movie. She never did that in the Foot, but here in the lair, she could. Right after she came home-

Karai froze.

Home. She had called the lair home.

Because this place really did feel like home, safer than anywhere she had lived before in her life. Even as a child with who she had thought was her family, something was always out of place, something was always wrong.

But here... it all just clicked into place. She fit in instantly in ways the Shredder had told her she never would.

Almost everything was perfect. Everything was fitting into place.

"Miwa?"

And all that was left was just one simple problem she had.

"Father," Karai turned around to face Splinter, looking up to see his smiling face, full of acceptance and pride, filling her heart with warmth in a way she never had known was possible. To think, she had hated him for all of these years because of the lies someone else had told her.

She almost hated herself for it. Sometimes she really did.

"You look troubled, my child," Her father frowned. "What is the matter?"

"I"m not troubled, I'm just..." Karai sighed, looking down. "I'm mad, I guess, at what we lost."

"We may have lost many battles, yes, but we have not lost the war. In fact-"

"No, no, not that," Karai shook her head, gesturing blindly with her hands. Was the war with the Foot and Kraang important? Of course, and she'd spent many long hours thinking about it. But that wasn't what was bothering her this time. "Not lost battles, but..." She hesitated. She'd lost so much... Lost family, lost truths, lost homes... How could she sum those billions of feelings up in only a few words? Words could only get you so far, and the tornado of thoughts in her mind could never be tamed long enough to escape her head—not properly, anyway. 

"What do you mean, then?" Splinter gently pressed, "What have we lost?"

A moment of hesitance, and then a soft sigh. "Lost time," Karai finally said, "With us, I mean."

Splinter didn't reply at first, the seconds easing into minutes and hastening into what felt like decades. Karai understood why; how were you supposed to reply to something like that? How were you supposed to take that, when your own daughter was taken by someone else, fed lies about you her entire life, and taught to hate you? 

"I mourn our lost time together as well," Splinter finally replied, "I wish I could have seen you grow up. But what's past is past. What matters is here and now, and that we are together again today. We must not neglect the present in grief over the past."

"I just feel so stupid," Karai said, shaking her head. "There were so many obvious signs he was lying and that he was the bad guy. But I missed all of them and I- I hated you, Father. I didn't believe you when you tried to tell me the truth either. I ignored you and fought you, but you were right all along."

The self-hatred hit her all at once, and she sunk back down to the ground in defeat. When she spoke again, her words came out in a broken whisper.

"How could you ever forgive me?"

"You were a child, Miwa," Splinter leaned forward, eyes darkening in anger. Not at her, that much was clear, but a distantly directed anger towards Oroku Saki. "What happened was not your fault, and you must never blame yourself. You were lied to and manipulated. But you, my daughter, never had a choice, even when you were told you were the one in control. This is not your doing."

"But-"

"It is not your fault," Splinter stared at her sadly, "You couldn't have known."

"But what if I had?" Karai pressed, "The hints were there. If I had figured it out, maybe all these years wouldn't have been wasted. We could have been together for more. Then maybe I wouldn't have been-"

A leader in the Foot Clan. A talented manipulator. A vengeful warrior. A twisted mind. An ugly heart.

"...Wouldn't have turned out the way I did," She finished lamely, eyes cast downwards. "I"m not Miwa, Father. I'm not who you wanted to raise me to be."

With that shameful admittance, Karai let the room drift into silence, frozen in fear. If she had said something that disrespectful to the Shredder, told her old father she wasn't who he wanted her to be, she would have been punished. Beaten, bruised, forced to train until her fingers bled... but through all of that, there was comfort in knowing what to expect. There were very few surprises the Shredder could inflict on her that she didn't already know the pain of.

But what would her true father do?

"Karai,"

Her eyes shot up to him in shock. 

"When you were first born, I will admit I did have a very different picture of your future in mind," Her father chuckled, "But I never wanted to decide who you were. That is something no one but you can decide, and it is your choice and your choice alone what kind of person you will be. You were taught many cruel things, but that is part of growing up. You must take what you learned and decide for yourself what you will keep and what you will get rid of. But, my daughter, you must understand this."

He set both hands on her shoulders, meeting her eyes directly. There was nothing but pure sincerity in his words.

"You, as you are now, are wonderful. I would not trade you for anyone else. You are my daughter, Karai, and I am very proud."

The tears started to well up in her eyes and Karai sucked in a deep breath, desperately trying to hold them at bay. To break was dishonorable, but to cry in front of another individual was beyond even that. It was a horribly punishable offense that she, in her 16 years of living, had never once broken. She couldn't now. She had been taught better than that.

But then Splinter opened his arms and her breath hitched.

The Shredder had taught her many things, but acceptance and love were not one of them. Maybe her real father was right. Maybe she could throw away some of the things he had taught her without getting rid of herself, because she could decide for herself what was right and what was wrong.

That teaching, she decided, she would throw out for good. A tear ran down her cheek.

"It is okay," Splinter whispered as she fell into his arms, hugging him tightly for dear life. He held her right back. "It is okay, my daughter, you are safe here."

And she was.

She was home.

#tmnt #tmnt 2012 #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt karai #teenage mutant ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2012

[pyraffin-drgo]

All Heavy interactions in Poker Night at the Inventory.

For you to interpret however you wish.

Video Version

(They have [bootleg movies] in your country?) "I like movies, yes." (Yeah, like what? [Lists movies]?) "No. My favorite are The Dirty Dozen and the first twenty minutes of Rocky four."

(We can talk Tetris?) "Hmmph. Tetris is baby game." (Tetris Attack keeps it hood!) "Why does everybody think I love this Tetris? It is just stacking!"

"[To Strongbad] Tiny Heavy." (What is it?) "Do you get the nightmares?" (I get the jibblie nightmares. [Describes silly nightmare, shivers].) "I am talking about the visions of endless suffering. Dead doctors everywhere. Spy can not be found. (No, but that sounds like the Jibblies.) "I do not like these 'jibblies.'"

"Strong and bad. How is boxing career?" (These. Are. My. HANDS!) "I was boxer, once. In school. We have to either box or learn to herd goats." Silence, looking concerned. "I am not good with goats..." (Too much information, man.) "At first, I do not like punching other boys... But then I learn to love it." Punches his palm menacingly.

(Find any rare drops lately?) "I do not understand." (When you get a kill, you get a present?) "When I get kill, I get honor of team." Smile drops. "Sometimes... I also get nightmares. A man does not go home to his wife and children." (So, no loot?) "Oh! You mean hat! Yes, I love hats! Sometimes, I get these. They are the best."

(Hey, Heavy. You know any hot Russian spies?) "I hate spies." (But you gotta have the inside line on some deadly minxes.) "You want hot spy?" (Am I not wrestle man?) "I have friend who gets you a hot spy. (Get em on the two-way, man!) "His name is Pyro." (Tycho, to Strongbad: The spy is hot because it is on fire.) (Oh...)

"[To Tycho] What do you do with life?" (Me?) "Yes. What is possible with tiny, frail body?" (I occupy myself with simulations... of various kinds.) "What is these?" (Struggles to explain.) (Strongbad: He lives in his parent's basement.)

(So, is there a Mrs. Weapons Guy?) "No. Sasha is my only love." (Sasha kills people, I presume?) "No." (Oh?) "WE kill people."

"[To Strongbad] Maybe you and I box?" (I can't risk my beautiful face, it's the franchise.) "We spar. For fun." (I don't think so.)

"Strong and bad. You wrestle? With mask?" (No, I'm a wrestle man, not those hack wrestle-LERS.) "Not like Iron Sheik?" (No, Iron Stake is a LER.) Heavy nods. "Hmm. This is too bad."

(So how long you been with those Team Fortress fellas?) "I do not understand." (The game's been on Steam for like 3 years. I imagine there was some audition process?) "Ohhh! Yes, I understand! I kill many men VERY quickly." (Excuse me?) "I kill record number of soldiers, and I am commissioned to join RED team."

(Mr. Weapons. I am in the market for a new firearm. [Specifications].) "Hmm, for you I do not recommend minigun then. You know, there is this fast baby man that annoys me greatly with shotgun." (Oh! Oh! What are the available options? I'll spring for leather!) "Da, this is good for you. I suggest Force-A-Nature." (I'll tell them [shop owner] Heavy Weapons Guy sent me.) "It is no need. I know guy."

"I will make hat from you, little bunny." No reply from anyone. A reference for the player to the Max hat in TF2.

"You look familiar, bunny." (How closely do you follow the Manhattan Crime Blotter?) Also a reference to the hat, Tycho then takes over conversation.

(If I need someone snuffed out, what's your going rate?) "Five hundred thousand U.S. dollars." (Steep.) "Cash." (You can do it discreetly?) "Sasha... not so discreet." (That's fine.)

(How did you guys hear of the inventory?) "My engineering friend brought me one night."

(This reminds me of the time Artie Flopshark rigged an entire poker tournament to pay off his loan shark.) "I know of this. This is respectable profession in motherland." Conversation is stolen by Tycho.

(This reminds me of [story]!) "I am reminded of time Engineer kill my entire team." (Damn Heavy, that's... heavy. Sorry to hear that.) "I search entire base for him. He tries to kill me with turret and mini turret, but I crush his toys like they are made of paper." (Sounds like crappy toys.) "Then I find him. Hiding by teleporter. I take his gun away from him. He tries to hit me with wrench! Hahohoh! So I take wrench away from him. I take his wrench and shove it down his throat, all the way down to the handle." (Christ!) Heavy laughs. "Then I rip off all his fingers one by one!" He talks while laughing. "Lets see you build toys now!" He breaks out in laughter. "There's blood- everywhere! And- he's crying!" More laughter. "I think he cries out for mother, but- but-" Crumples over laughing. "The wrench is stuck in his throat! And it sounds like-" Makes choking motions and noises then laughs. "Is this not the funniest thing??" (Horrified looks) (Head shakes slowly.) (That's some bleeped up bleep, man!)

(How about you, Heavy weapons? I'm guessing you're a vodka guy?) "Peach Bellini. But bubbles can give me headache."

(Mr. Weapons, how do you like your line of work?) "It is good. There are many benefits." (Oh! Like a free pass to snuff out bad guys or a waffle bar?) "Both. And full dental."

(I wonder if this dump is haunted.) (I hope so! Roughing up who can't die is fun!) "...I do not like ghosts..." (It's okay, Mr. Weapons. I have [extensive experience]. I can handle a few ghosts.) "...You will take care of ghosts for me?" (You bet cha!) Heavy nods at him. "I like you, tiny rabbit."

[Story including a union] "I am union. RED local six fifteen." (You guys unionized?) "Eh. It was necessity for group medical."

"Tycho. This sweater, is special equipment?" (No, standard issue.) "You have no class specific head gear?" (Got a motorcycle helmet that protects from 100% of UV rays.) "This sounds beneficial."

(Why do you keep calling me 'Tiny Heavy'?) "You are Heavy. Tiny. No? You are RED team. You have killing gloves of boxing. You earn these for being great killer! You should try out for RED team." (Hmm. Guess I could join your team of ruthless killers and lame hat wearers and watch you get grenaded by 8 year olds.) "You will take many bullets before dying I think."

(Hey, Heavy. I just finished [Russian fantasy book]. Ever read it?) "No." (Oh. What's your favorite book?) "I prefer war." (Ah, War and Peace. Tasteful.) "No. Just war." (Art of War?) "Nyet." Silence. "I like 'Tsar Hunger' by Leonid Andreyev. You know this?" (...No.) "Is classic."

"You have hands like young girl." (I keep them shits moist.) "...So you are more of sneaky, stabbing type?" (In an extreme circumstance, I guess.) Heavy looks at him suspiciously. "I keep my eyes on you." (No, no no- I wasn't implying that-) Heavy looking at him angierly. (Shit.)

(Ever listen to music while you work?) "Yes! I just buy new walkman." (What gets you in the killing mood? Icelandic death metal?) "I just get Huey Lewis tape. Keeps spirits up on battle field."

"[To Tycho] You have woman?" (Not with me) "She is pretty?" (Yeah, cute, glasses, red hair.) "She has the red hair??" (No, Heavy! She is not on the other team! Don't have to kill her!) "No. But I love the red hair!" (Well, you can't have her, either.) Re-used image of Heavy looking at him angrily. (Well, maybe we can work something out.)

(Hey, Heavyman. You think you can 'take care' of the King of Town for me?) "I can assassinate king, yes. It is expensive, though." (By take care of I meant sneak in and shave off half his mustache.) "I am not best at sneaking." (Confront him in a dark alley then?) "This is better. That way blood wash away in rain."

(You have any interest in moonlighting?) "WHAT? I am not moonlighter!" (Just a little work on the side with Sam and me beating up goons!) "Oh. I can not do this." (C'mon it's fun and free!) "No, I am sure it is." (Then what's the problem?) "I have non compete." (Ah, yeah. Lawyers.)

(All these aces reminds me of [weird dream]. You have any weird dreams, Mr. Weapons?) "I sometimes dream that I am killed. There is blood everywhere. (Tycho gives him a weird look) But then I wake up and I realize this is ridiculous! Nobody can kill Heavy weapons guy! (Riiiight...)

"[To his chips] This is good Solider. This one is good Doktor. You are demolition man."

"Saaaandvich, sandvich, I love you sandvich!" (Would you like someone to order you some food?)

"Blue man." (Tycho.) "Tycho. What college do you go to? You are educated, no?" (Actually, no.) "No?" (I studied at Gygax Polyhedral if you catch my drift.) "I do not. This is good school?" (Uh. The best.) "I went to Soviet College of Mines, Farms, and Science. I have PhD in Russian literature." (Do you.. use that in your work?) "More than you think."

"Tiny Heavy, who is your favorite to kill in war?" (Those discount three-pack green helmets.) "To kill spy is glorious thing! How about you, Max? You are killing type." (My favorite enemy? Like asking me to choose between my children!) Heavy laughs. "You crack me up, little bunny!"

(Hey, Hefty Bag, you ever play video games?) "Just one." (Oh yeah?) "It is called-" (Tycho: WoW?) "Nyet. That is not popular. It is called 'Where's an Egg'." (Strongbad: I love Where's an Egg!) "Where's an Egg is as big as Tetris in homeland."

(Concerning your firearm, whay caliber we talking?) "Big." (What, we talking 300 Weatherby Mag here?) "Bigger." (50 cal, whereabouts?) "Bigger than 50 caliber. They are hand made custom tool cartridges with classified diameter." (Why's that?) "So enemy canmot use ammunition. But Sasha can chew through theirs." (Diabolical!) "I think so." Nods.

(Alright, big pretend killer man. Tell me the most awesome story you have with plenty of senseless violence!) Heavy thinks. "When I was boy, I was at camp, being trained in many ways of combat." (Assassination camp for kids! This is gonna be good!) "There was sparrow sitting on fence. Snow falls quietly around me. Without notice, another boy jumps from behind tree and kills sparrow with throwing knife. The boy runs away." (And then??) "I pick up sparrow, and hear his last breath before digging him tiny grave..." (Tycho crying) (Max silent) (That's not even a little bit funny, man.) Heavy shakes his head solemnly. "No..." Sits back. "It's not."

(So, what do you do for fun?) "Clean Sasha. Use Sasha... Clean Sasha again." (Proper maintience is crucial.) "I also collect old coins." (A fellow numismatist!) "Which I melt down to make custom bullets." (Of course.)

"I am hungry for sandvich." (Then order a sandvich, man.) "Oh, I can not have sandvich! I become unstoppable killing machine!" (Yeah, maybe order a water.) "Is best."

"You wear blue sweater." (All the time.) "What are you?" (Haven't we went over this?) "You are not Scout. Maybe very tricky blue Spy? Maybe... new class?" (I can use a keyboard to sabotage your entire team, steal your intelligence, and have your sister delivered to my doorstep in one afternoon. Yes, I'm a new class.) Heavy, shocked, "This is true??"

(Hey, Heavyman, what's your living situ-aysh?) "I live in RED barraks. Is nice. There is foos table." (How about taking a room in the house of Strong?) "There is vacancy?" (First you'll have to dump the current person in your room.) "This is enemy?" (He won't put up much of a fight.)

Hope you enjoyed, spent most of the day copying all these down. The non-Heavy lines are paraphrased for shortness. Heavy's are full, how they are in game.

#long post #tf2 #team fortress 2 #heavy #tf2 heavy #heavy weapons guy #poker night #poker night at the inventory #neat