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stumacherspillowprincess · 1 year

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How to Please You

Stu Macher X Reader

Don’t come after my life if my writing isn’t up to par, it’s been a long time since I’ve written on another platform.

- Stu Macher’s Pillow Princess

(Let it be known I’m a switch at heart but I would let this man demolish me if he wanted to.)

You stumble through Stu’s house reaching the staircase. You sit for a moment and then call out for Randy, but he’s distracted by the movie playing on the tv and the horde of guys calling out obscenities to Jamie Lee Curtis in ‘Halloween’. You close your eyes for a moment and you feel a warm body sit next to you on the steps.

It’s Stu.

He laughs and puts his arm around you.

“There’s a reason you don’t drink keg beer, you drink the good shit I keep around for the pretty girls, that beer is trash.”

Pretty girl? You think, You haven’t had 2 seconds alone with this man since the beginning of time. He’s so forward.

“I’m not drunk Stu, I slipped and fell hard in the kitchen and my everything hurts.”

“Well little miss clumsy if you need to lay down or something your little boyfriend can take you up to my parents room.”

“Randy’s not my boyfriend.” You scoff.

You’ve been on one ‘date’ if hanging out at the video store after hours even counts as one.

“Like hell he is, every time I walk into that lousy ass video store he’s flapping that fucking mouth about you.”

“Not enough apparently because I’m sitting here with a sore ass and he’s too busy watching movies.”

“I’m not too busy for you and your sore ass” He grins stupidly as he pokes at your side.

You hit him playfully on the shoulder. He smirks.

“Come on, a bed’s gotta be comfier than these stairs”

He grabs your hand and lifts you to stand. He wraps his arm around your waist and grips you hard, almost carrying you up the stairs. He leads you to a room at the end of the hall. He closes the door and you hear a slight click.

‘Did he lock it?’

You plop down on the bed and fall back on the pillows. You feel Stu sit on the edge. He places his hand on your leg.

“Comfy?”

“Mhm”.

“You know.. I gotta ask .. because me and the guys just… can't seem to figure out how virgin extraordinaire landed you?”

“He’s sweet to me, plus how about you show me the list of available guys in our school that aren’t assholes or taken”.

“So because of Tatum I didn’t make the cut?”

“No.. you’re not on my list because you’re an asshole.”

He laughs. “Oh really now? I didn’t know” his sarcasm is all too much. “Wipe the smirk off your face”. He looks at your mouth and then back to your eyes.

You giggle at his frustration.

“Or what? you’ll do it for me?” You put your finger to his chest.

“I could do more than that..” his touches your hand with his fingers tracing patterns on the back of your palm.

His eyes wander for a second but he pops back into reality and blinks a few times. You place your hands in your lap.

“So tell me, have you popped old randy’s cherry yet?” He nudges you playfully.

“No one’s popping anything.”

“Nothing? Come on babe! a girls gotta have needs right? The kid isn't satisfying you in other ways?” He taps his fingers on your leg.

“No stu, Randy’s a virgin, in all ways, shapes, and forms”. You grab his hand and move it off of you placing it on the bed.

“So what do virgins do on a friday night? Play fucking checkers and call it a night? You gotta do better than that”. He shakes his head.

“What do I even do? He’s so sweet but he wouldn’t know how to make a move if I stripped naked and threw myself at him”.

“Oh really? That easy huh?

“Oh fuck you, I didn’t meant it like that. I wouldn’t even know what to do.”

“I could show you a thing or two”.

“You dick-” you grab and pillow and try to whack him, he grabs it and he tosses it on the ground

“I’m not kidding you want to please your man don’t you?”

“You’re lying, what would your girlfriend say about that?”

“She won’t say shit, because I’m not gonna tell her. Are you telling me you’d look Tatum in the eyes and tell her what we did?”

“But we didn’t do anything”

He grabs your legs and pulls you to the edge of the bed. You sit upright as he moves closer to you. .

“Yet.”

“But s-stu-”

“But-but Stu what? You think I don't know what you want? Fuck, I’ve always thought about it.”

“You think about me?” You bite your lip.

“You think me and Billy sit around and play who’s got the bigger dick all day long when we hang out? We talk about all the ladies we'd like to have-”

You cut him off

“Billy would probably win that argument”

Stu stands up grunting a little in frustration.

“You just like being a little brat don’t you. I was gonna show you mine but I guess you don't get to see it now.”

“Wait wha-”

“I mean if you insist I’d hate for all this to be a waste.”

He grabs your hand and places it on his chest and guides it down his stomach to his pants. He’s so hard.

“What are you doing?” You look up at him innocently.

“You want to learn how to please?” His voice gets lower.

“I-I don’t really know what to say, I’m a little-”

“Intimidated?” He cuts you off. “You don’t have to say anything, just listen.”

He grabs your chin and leans your face up so your eyes meet his.

“Don’t be scared, I’m not going to hurt you..”

“I wasn’t afraid of that.”

“Afraid you’d enjoy me too much?”

“Then what Stu? We go back to class on Monday and act like this was some dream?”

“Maybe I enjoy you too much and make you my girl.”

“I don’t want to rely on maybes..”

“You talk too much, maybe I should show you something to shut you up for a second.”

“Huh?”

He pushes you back on the bed and climbs on top of you kissing you without hesitation. His hands find their way to your chest grabbing at you hard. His kiss is rough, it only makes you want him more. His lips move to your neck biting you softly,

‘will this leave a mark?’

You think to yourself. His kisses trail down to your chest then turn to biting and sucking. A noticeable hickey would form, but you didn’t care, you could always wear a high collar t-shirt for the next week.

You moan out his name.

“Oh babe we’re just getting started.”

His hands feel down your thigh, his fingers moving up your skirt to your panties. He rubs the outside of you, you can feel yourself getting wetter at the touch of his fingers.

“Does that feel good?”

“Mhm” you close your eyes hard diving into the feel of his touch.

“I want you to use your words.”

“Y-es, you feel good.”

“That’s my girl”.

‘His girl?’

You love the sound of that. His fingers inched their way into your panties.

Those hands.. The way he was rubbing you was sending pulses throughout your whole body.

“Tell me you want it” He gritted his teeth. How turned on is he?

“I want it.”

“Do you need it?”

“I need it”

“Beg”

“Please, I can’t take it anymore.” It feels like you can’t breathe.

His slipped his fingers inside of you. You audibly gasp and he smiles at you. He’s almost proud of himself. They were almost too big to fit,

“Come on babe if you can’t handle this how could handle the rest of me?”

In and out his fingers moved slower, faster, it felt like You could just lose yourself all over his hand.

“You can wait.”

He stopped abruptly. Fuck.

“What are you doing.”

You were almost mad that he stopped.

‘Why would he do that? Maybe he likes the power?’

“Now I know how you like to be pleased..”

You sit up, chest heaving, you look into his eyes.

“Fuck you.”

“Not yet. It’s my turn.”

He stands up and backs away from the bed raising his hand to his mouth, his fingers touching his lips and tasting them. Tasting you. You stand up slowly. Wobbly. You put your hands on his hips. His hand reaches behind your neck pulling your face closer kissing you. He’s needy. You can feel the want in his kiss. He pulls you against him. He’s so hard.

You turn him so his back is to the bed. And push him down. He sits and looks up at you smirking ever so slightly.

“So you’re the one in charge now?”

You let out a breathy laugh for a moment.

“You have no idea,” pointing to his pants you only have to say two words.

“Pants. Now”

Stu grins and bites his lip as he struggles to undo his buckle and zipper. He’s a little too excited. You sit on his lap and pull his dick out of his boxers. He’s already ready to go.

You start stroking him and he leans his head back eyes closed tightly. He grips your thighs with those strong hands. He wants you so badly to just get on top already.

“Does that feel good?”

“Fuck, you know it does”

His hips start moving up and down to the rhythm of your hand sliding up and down his dick.

“I just need you already”

“How badly?”

“Like I need air” he gasps “fuck”

“Beg”

“Beg?”

He’s shocked? His own word used against him.

You stop. He looks at you in surprise.

“You’re such a dick.” He breathes out.

“I don’t hear you begging..”

“Please”

“That doesn’t sound real” you shake your head disappointed.

“Come on” he teases.

“Fine, that’s too bad I guess you’d rather I go downstairs and leave you like this” you shrug and move to get off of him.

“You aren’t going anywhere”

He leans up and place one hand on your ass pulling you closer, and the other hand up to the back of your head. His fingers grip at your hair bringing you close to kiss again. You grip at his sweater and pull it up and off of him tossing it to the side. You reach your hand around his dick again. He tenses up at the motion of your stroking.

He moans into your mouth.

“Please, I’m not fucking kidding anymore. I need this. I need you. Take these fucking things off and come here”

He tugs at your Panties trying to pull them down.

“You take them off if you want it so badly”

His fingers grasping gently turned to both hands gripping tightly and ripping them off. He tossed them on the ground and smiles into the kiss.

“Oops, I’ll just have to buy you a new pair.”

In one swift movement you grip and slide his throbbing dick inside of you. He’s so thick, he just fits so perfectly. You gasp as it enters. The warmth and wetness is too much for him. He lays back and moans gripping the sheets with one hand as the other remains on your hip. He bucks into you.

“F-fuck, you feel too good I can’t.”

He moans louder.

You place your hand on his mouth trying to muffle his moans.

“They’ll hear us.”

He grips your hand and moves it to his chest.

“Fuck them. This is my fucking house”

“Oh yeah?”

“This pussy is mine. You’re mine.”

He grips your hips rocking you back and forth on top of him as he fucks you from underneath.

Both of your hands resting on his chest you grind harder on top of him. He’s slipping.

“Yes please fuck. I can’t” he cries out.

“Yes you can stu. Who’s dick is this?”

You’re in charge now.

“It’s all yours babe, yours”

“Are you gonna cum for me? Stu”

“Yes, please I want to. Fuck you feel too good”

You bring his hands up to grip your breasts. And bounce harder and faster on him. Your whole body is tense.

“Fuck stu”

Your breathing quickens as you feel yourself getting closer. You feel your thighs gripped his waist tighter and tighter. Both your moans getting louder, matching ‘yes’s and him moaning your name over and over.

You feel it building inside of you as you ride harder and harder. And finally

Your orgasm makes you tighten around him pushing him over the edge as your body melts all over him. He finally cums and his grip was tight as he fills you up. His hands would leave an imprint. He gasps and let’s you ride every last drop out of him.

You gasp and moan as you collapse onto his chest.

It could have been hours or minutes before you could come back to the reality that you were in Mr. and Mrs. Macher’s bed, a party happening down below, and the fear that someone could catch you.

He wipes the sweat from his face with his shirt on the bed to the left of you guys. And wraps his arms around you. His lips kiss your forehead.

“Fuck” He’s breathing hard.

“I know” you smile into his chest.

“You just-”

“I know”

“Goddamn My head is spinning” his hands rub his face.

You both lay for a minute. Him still inside of you. Catching your breath. Someone knocks on the door.

“Who’s in there”

“Who the fucks asking?”

“Who the fuck else?”

It’s only Billy.

“Give me a minute Billy I’ll be right there”

You get off of him and walk across the room, sitting at the vanity and looking into the mirror fixing your hair and clothes.

It seems like he feels your reaction to the sex wasn’t as life altering as he assumed it was for you. Even if it was you weren’t gonna let him have the satisfaction.

“What the fuck just happened- it’s like you-”

“Knew what I was doing?”

He nodded questionably.

“I never said I was a virgin stu, randy is. You aren’t the first to “teach” me anything”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

He laughs nervously.

“Why don’t you ask Billy?”

You smirk as you open the door and walk out. Leaving him speechless. Billy is there standing against the hallway wall. He looks you up and down. Biting his lip. And raising his eyebrows at you.

“Now you’re not the first person I expected to walk out of there but you were definitely on the list”

You smirk.

“I didn’t expect last weekend either so just add this to your pile of secrets you have.”

He smirks as you walk away to join the party downstairs. Maybe he taught you well.

#stu macher #stu macher x reader #scream #Matthew lillard x reader #fanfic #Matthew lillard #stu macher imagine #imagine #flirting #ghostface #billy loomis #skeet ulrich

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b-e-l-l-a--l-u-n-a · 9 months

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...everytime I kiss you! ♥

(Animations are from the movie: Bambi)

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lostquinn · 1 year

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They're mine

Connor (dbh) x gn!reader

Fluff - flirting - protective Connor

CW - harassment // swearing

Summary - while waiting for Hank and a few others at a bar, a man approaches you and starts flirting - this makes you uncomfortable and Connor could tell as soon as he walked in. The android makes it his job to be your boyfriend for the night.

Writing this had me smiling and kicking my feet. I love him so much. Did anyone spot my silly little reference? 👀 requests are still open!!

Word count - 946

The lighting of the establishment was low, it was your first time in this bar that Hank had recommended and so far it just seemed the same as evey other bar.

You were sat in a booth, waiting for Hank and a few others from the police station to show up. You hadn't worked with them for a short while but you still liked to catch up with them.

The wooden table was sticky and the seats were uncomfortable. There was some sort of music playing that could barely be heard over the conversations that flooded the room.

A man slid into the booth opposite you. This dragged your eyes away from your phone to the stranger across the table.

"Hey beautiful," he slurred his words slightly.

The man's hair was greasy, falling down just past his stumbled chin. He grinned at you, a smile too wide to be normal proudly showed off his yellowed teeth and he leant towards you.

His arms reached across the desk, hands searching to find yours as he stared at you. You recoiled away from him, pressing back into the fabric of the booth behind you.

"Leave me alone," you said to the man, shifting due to your discomfort.

"Not until I get your number or take you home doll," he continued grinning.

"That's not going to happen,"

"Then I'm not going anywhere." He looked out up and down as best he could.

It felt as though he was undressing you with his eyes and suddenly it felt wrong to be in your own skin. You looked around, hoping to find a different booth to hide yourself away in and it turned out the bar had filled up during this conversation, yet your friends still weren't here.

You cursed them as the stranger began speaking, flirting with you in his drunken state.

"You know doll, I could show ya a real good time," he ended his almost speech.

"I'm meeting someone, please leave me alone,"

"I don't see him. I'm not going until I get your number or you in my bed bitch." He moved to sit differently, adjusting his posture.

You felt a wave of fear rush through you. This feeling was furthered when you felt a hand on your shoulder. You jumped and looked up, searching for who the hand belonged to.

Connors chocolate brown eyes met yours and you felt calm in an instant. He was smiling down at you, his features soft and beautiful.

He sat down next to you and wrapped his arm around your shoulders to pull you close to him. You were just friends. Just friends. That's all he saw you as. You cursed yourself for enjoying his touch as much as you were.

"There you are sweetheart, sorry I was late. I was looking everywhere for you."

You smiled at him. "You found me,"

He pressed a kiss against your temple in response. "So who's this?" He tilted his head towards the stranger

"I dont know," you muttered.

Connors body language didn't change. Of course he knew that you didn't know the drunk stranger, he had probably heard the last thing the man said to you.

"I'm the one who's gonna make your little partner my bitch." He grinned at Connor.

Connor pulled his arm away from you and leant across the table. He grabbed the man by the collar and stared deep into his soul. For a moment he whispered, too quiet for you to hear. You could only hear his final words to the man.

"They're mine." He almost growled.

As Connor sat back and put his arm back around you, the man left. You swore that you caught an expression that could only be described as pure fear. You wondered what Connor has whispered to him.

A blush flushed your face pink as you looked at Connor, his head was turned away from you as he greeted Hank and the others who had just arrived.

He removed his arm from around you, saving the both of you from being teased by the others as they crowded around the table.

"Jesus [name] was this the only table?" Hank groaned slightly as he reached for his beer.

"I don't see you finding us a better one," you stuttered, tripping over your words.

You were distracted by the presence of Connors hand, placed gently on the top of your thigh. He simply rested his hand on you, being able to touch you made him feel secure as he knew you were safe and okay.

----

The night ended at your doorway, after Connor had walked you home for the night. You stood, leaning against the wooden frame as you smiled at him.

"Thank you for that back there,"

"It's no problem, I had to get rid of him," he smiled.

"What did you tell him? Other than that I'm yours?"

His face flushed a light blue as he looked at you. His eyes were wide and his mouth sat slightly open. Connor moved his lips to say something a couple times but gave up.

"I- I didn't realise you had heard that, forgive me."

"Don't worry, I liked it," you winked.

It was almost as though he was having a software malfunction. He was blushing hard and staring at you in shock.

"I- uhm- you did?"

"Only because it was you," you smiled, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on his cheek. "I should get to bed."

He nodded in response and waved goodnight. You went to bed, going through your normal nightly routine before falling into a deep sleep. Connor however, sat up late into the night thinking about you.

#detroid become human #detroit rk800 #rk800 #dbh connor x reader #detroit become human #connor dbh fluff #writers on tumblr #hank anderson #writing #protective #flirting #cute #dbh connor

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behbita · 2 years

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#the way chante said 'i dont have a ball' miss ma'am your voice...your voiCE 😳😩#god i miss flirting #a league of their own #aloto #max chapman #maxine chapman #chante adams #andia winslow #wlw #lgbtq #kissing #flirting #tvedit #dailytvgifs #userbbelcher #userstream #usersource #behbgifs

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mokimo-art · 11 months

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"So stiff, and its twiches a lot, thats a lot of pent up stress"

#art #artists on tumblr #pointy ears #demon girl #demon horns #long hair #sharp teeth #vtuber #2d animation #animated gif #animation #flirting

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fanaticsnail · 7 months

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Bar Shift: Part 1

First time writing for Sanji, which accidentally turned into a multi-part mini series. This is part 1!

Your eyelids fluttered open as the rays of the morning sun shone through the material of the curtain and directly onto your face. Any other day, waking with the dawn would cause you to groan, wipe your face with your fingertips and you would lunge straight into a tirade of self-hype to awaken your senses as you prepared for your shift as the front of house manager of the floating restaurant, Baratie.

However, today was unlike any of the others you had encountered over the past several months. Today, you had finally been rostered for a single day off. You smiled and raised your arms over your head, stretching them above you and arching your back with a low moan. You released the tension acquired in your shoulders and shrugged back into the mattress below you.

It was not like you hadn’t been rostered off, releasing you from your duties over the several months prior. You had just acquired the nasty habit of accepting shifts pushed onto you to cover other members of staff in their duties. From aiding with back of house duties: washing dishes, vegetable preparation, sauce reduction and preparing ‘family meal’ for the staff to enjoy after completing a successful shift; to aiding the head Chef Zeff with listing groceries, preparing payroll, timetable scheduling and product costing. This is how you rose so high in the ranks aboard the sailing restaurant as their front of house staff; never being one to decline a shift to cover others in their time of need.

You smiled to yourself, springing the sheets from your body and preparing to undertake a true day dedicated to only yourself. You had a whole list of items prepared in your mind: face masks, deep hair conditioning, pampering your body by doing some exercise in the gym and enjoying breakfast on the broad deck in the sunshine on the bar.

You started with your face, plucking unruly and unwanted hair from their desired location, applying a face and hair mask and began doing your stretches to limber your body up for a small run after your masks had dried, been rinsed and tidied.

As the conditioning treatments began to solidify atop your features, you placed a record in your music player and swung to the beat with a small giggle. You discarded your sleep attire and searched through your draws for something to exercise in and something to wear to breakfast after you had a shower.

You rinsed off the dried masks from your face and wrapped your masked hair into a tight bun out of your face and left your quarters adorning your work-out gear. You completed a slightly cardio intensive routine over the course of an hour, including some kick-boxing against a small bag hanging from the ceiling on the crew-quarters gym before heading to the showers.

Indulging in the warmth of a lengthy shower, you dried your now shiny soft hair and styled it in a way you hadn’t done in a while – wearing it out instead of in the tightly woven style you would adorn in your regular shifts aboard Baratie. You raked through the locks, pinched your cheeks a little to add some warmth to your un-made up features and left the showers wearing slightly dressy clothes.

You were relishing in every moment you had acquired in a well deserved day off, noticing the hands on the clock on the hallway indicated it was now around 7:45am as you made your way atop the deck. More often than not, you would pull double – if not triple shifts – to aid the creater, owner and head chef of Baratie; often starting at 5am to aid in pastries, work a full shift on the floor before covering for a chef in the kitchen or helping with the dishes from the rush before managing the bar for the night life. You would often end your shift just after midnight if the night was slow, but would stay later if required.

There had been two crew birthdays for the front of house staff, one chef du cuisine reigniting his affections with an old flame and asking you to cover for him in the kitchen, three injuries at the hands of apprentices and one chef finding themselves overcome with some form of sea-bearing respiratory illness he acquired on one of his days off that rendered him useless for a week. Each time, Patty or Carne would seek you out and sheepishly ask you to cover; knowing they could truly count on you. And each time, you would say yes.

As you took a seat, basking in the light of the morning rays; you rolled your neck and closed your eyes to release some tension in your neck as a shadow fell over your face – successfully blocking the warmth from falling onto your skin.

You opened your eyes and looked up to see the blonde chef, Sanji; a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips as he presented you with what looked to be some number of fruits above a jelly and custard tart with whipped cream on the side. You smiled at him and sat up slightly from your reclined position.

“For you, princess,” he said with a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth. You rolled your eyes and accepted the dish from him and placed it on the side table to the right of the lounging chair you were sitting on.

“What is it, love?” you asked him, gesturing to the dish he had handed to you. He broadly smiled at you, appreciating the name you bestowed onto him. He removed the finished cigarette from the corner of his lips and placed it in the ashtray on the table beside a different recliner, further away from the dish.

“It’s a white chocolate ganache custard tart with a bitter blueberry reduction,” he began, crouching down at the table, fixing his gaze at the dish in front of you and gesturing to each part.

“I’ve topped it with a sweet lychee jelly with chiffonade mint leaves and finely diced cubed mango,” he pointed to the finely chopped pieces, “and I’ve hand-whipped a vanilla bean meringue buttercream just for you.”

You noticed a twinkle in his eyes as you looked the dish over, assessing its presentation. You narrowed your eyes at the tart base, noticing it was different than the usual pie crusts Sanji had worked with in the past.

“And the base?” you questioned him, arching your eyebrow up at him. He chuckled a little and leant forward.

“A flattened and rolled out layered Bischoff brioche,” he winked at you. You were not unaccustomed to Sanji’s flirting, as many of the chefs would playfully banter with one another during the shifts. Between Patty, Carne or the other line cooks; it was more loving insults or playful banter and encouragement. If there was a pretty lady sitting at the tables, a chef would alert the rest of the kitchen by calling out a dish to table number that didn’t exist, or more boldly, wolf-whistle under their breath.

With you, being one of the only women who would grace the back of house with your presence on the line, they would often include you in their jabs and try to point out any men they would deem worthy of your time. Sanji, however, would push to include you in a more flirtatious manner – often calling out the non-existent table number when you would walk to the pass on one of your front of house shifts, or referring to you with a rotating number of pet-names, his latest including “princess”.

“Thank you, love,” you smiled at him, broadly. You picked up a small fork and sliced the sharpened edge of the utensil into the tart and collecting a sample of each of the ingredients onto it.

“Did you make one for yourself too?” you asked before raising it to your lips. He was gazing at you with anticipation as you placed the ingredients into your mouth. Immediately, an explosion of flavours erupted over your tongue; bitterness from the reduction, richness from the ganache and meringue, fresh juices from the jelly and herbaceous botanicals from the mint leaves eclipsed over your senses; pulling an unwilling moan from between your lips. Sanji broadly smiled at your reaction, his eyes twinkling at the unwithheld compliment to him that he managed to bring forth.

You blushed heavily at the reaction your body made in response to consuming the first bite of his food and continued to chew, rolling the contents over your tongue.

“Bloody hell, Sanji!” you widened your eyes and covered your mouth with the hand you had the utensil in, still chewing the tart in your mouth. He chuckled and cradled his head in his enclosed fist, bashfully while he continued to watch you enjoy the dish he made.

“To answer your question, princess,” he smiled, “no I didn’t. I made that especially for you.”

You swallowed the first bite and rose your eyebrows in subtle shock. You again carved off a generous piece of the tart, ensuring you collected a taste of each of the many parts of the dessert. Sanji followed your movements with his eyes as you skilfully did so, only looking back to you in confusion as you presented the fork towards his lips.

“Well then,” you declared, offering the fork further over to his lips, “say ‘ah’.”

He smiled widely before leaning towards the silver utensil and wrapping his lips over the tip of the fork. His tongue collected the ingredients from the bottom of the fork, drawing your eyes to the silver balled piercing located on his pink frenulum momentarily. He maintained eye contact with you as he placed the contents into his mouth, causing an unintentional blush to rise from your chest, tips of your ears and over your cheeks.

He released the fork slowly from his lips, removing all pieces of indulgent tart from the end of the fork and he smiled at you with fondness.

“Thank you,” he nodded his head at the fork, “always wanted to share a meal with you. I didn’t think it would be quite as literal as this, princess.”

You rolled your eyes at his playful flirtation and began to collect more of the beautiful breakfast he had meticulously prepared for you.

“You should’ve made this one for Chef,” you commented, “he might even be so inclined to put this on the menu. I’d vouch for you, love.”

He laughed at your comment, reaching into his jacket pocket and placing an unlit cigarette between his fingers.

“Nope,” he said, bringing his lips to the filter end of the cigarette, “too much work went into that one. Wouldn’t want it wasted on uncultured pricks that believe the height of cuisine is a well-done tomahawk steak with mashed potatoes and boiled carrots.”

You laughed at his comment, watching him as he stood up and attempted to click his flint-less lighter to ignite a flame. He growled slightly in frustration, prompting you to reach for your own lighter in your bag. You rose to your feet and situated yourself in front of the tall blonde, reaching up your lighter and flicking the flint to ignite a small flame from the end. He smiled in thanks at you as you brought your hand cradling the flame up to his lips once more. He leant into your hands, igniting the tip of the cigarette and inhaling deeply before releasing the tobacco-riddled smoke from the corner of his mouth away from your face. You smiled at him and flicked off the flame from your lighter and made to place it back into your bag.

Unknown to you, Sanji’s eyes followed your every movement as he gazed at you with nothing but pure adoration. This little crush he seemed to have on you was subject to many of the unrelenting teasing from the kitchen staff, especially from Patty. He didn’t mind being the butt of the joke, especially as his only crime per say was his unrequited fantasy in pining for you.

Sure, he’d flirt with many women over the course of his shift – more often than not to secure a higher tip, or to simply mess with an overzealous man who needed his oversized head to be knocked down a few paces. It was only ever playful, nothing truly more. With you? He found to be fixated on you. The highlight of his shift was knowing you were with him on Baratie, pulling all of your strength, effort and unbridled determination in ensuring the smooth sailing of each night. He adored how much work you put into the place, especially as he owed his life to the head chef and having you aboard seemed to make everything flow so easily.

Silence fell between you as you cut into the meal Sanji prepared for you and continued to place it into your mouth. He continued to smoke, always turning to release the smoke away from you to not tarnish your dining experience in any way.

Loud footsteps broke you both out of your shared silence together as Patty almost skipped over to the place you were sitting, a broad smile adorning his finely groomed facial hair.

Immediately, alarm bells blared into you as this smile you came to know as the one he would only ever use when asking you to cover a shift.

“No,” you said, holding your hands out and defensively shaking them at him, “absolutely not.”

The smile continued to widen over Patty’s features as a clasped his hands together in a pleading fashion.

“Oh my darling, the most precious and radiant flower all of the ocean has to offer,” Patty began his tirade of flattery aimed at you, prompting Sanji to turn to stare at his form.

You shook your head and frowned at him, continuing to wave your arms in front of your face.

“Don’t even start-,” you began, being cut off by more flattery.

“The angel of the east blue,” Patty spoke over you, “more beautiful than the shooting stars littering the sky!”

You brought your thumb and middle finger to your brow before raking your fingertips through the loose strands of your hair. Sanji’s eyes narrowed slightly at the stream of compliments flowing from the blue-haired chef.

“What happened?” you uttered reluctantly at his flattery. Patty dropped his hands from their pleading position and released a sigh, reluctantly removing the smile from his face.

“Cole slipped a disc in his back while walking down the steps last night,” Patty uttered through gritted teeth. You sighed slightly and frowned at the comment.

“Are you certain it’s a slipped disc? Not the fact that his fiancé was finally cleared to dock yesterday?” you growled at Patty. He flinched a little at your accusation, before uttering.

“Actually, he did seem more limber this morning,” he confirmed with a downturned smile, arching his eyebrows. You groaned and lay back into your reclined position after placing the fork on the side table alongside you finished plate.

“If Cole wants me to do his bar shift for him, he should be the one here grovelling for coverage,” you declared with frustration. Patty nervously laughed at your comment, turning to look at Sanji who had a look of complete displeasure on his features.

“You know what?” you suddenly said, sitting up from your reclining position, “the only way I will accept the shift tonight is if the almighty head chef Zeff himself saunters over here and tilts my head up with his index finger and whispers it to me like he would a lover. If those absolute improbable circumstances are completed, I’ll work the bar tonight.”

You slumped back into your seat with a large smile, knowing there was no way Zeff would come to you and flirt his way into having you complete a bar shift for him. Sanji snickered slightly at the thought. Patty excused himself from your presence and sculked back into the halls to where you assume he would go and ask another rostered off member of staff to complete tonight’s shift.

“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever seen you turn down a shift,” Sanji said, collecting another cigarette from his jacket pocket.

“It’s been five months since I’ve had a proper rostered off day,” you shrugged your shoulders and slumped back into your chair and enjoying the warm rays of the sun shining into your body, “and that was the only thing I could think of to get Patty off my case. I have so much respect for Zeff, and I would never mean to disrespect him in any way. I’m sure Patty has run off to find someone else, anyway.” Sanji smiled in response.

“May I?” Sanji asked, gesturing to your bag to retrieve your lighter.

“Go right ahead, love,” you said, closing your eyes and placing your hands behind your head.

Suddenly your peaceful morning was again interrupted with a loud thump and heavy wooden slap echoing along the polished wooden floor of the hallway where Patty had retreated into moments earlier. Several other bellowing drumbeats could also be heard reverberating behind the thump and slap, alerting both Sanji and yourself to a few bodies approaching.

You snapped your eyes open and stood immediately alert, focusing your sights on the approaching figure of your head chef.

“Alright, pumpkin,” the chef declared, charging over to the place you were standing alongside Sanji, “I’ll play along.”

Your eyes immediately widened at the figure closing the distance between you. Several other chefs, including Patty and Carne were trailing closely behind him almost brimming with excitement.

“Sorry Chef?” you apologised as more of an indication of mishearing him, shock riddling your face. He closed the distance between your bodies, bringing himself uncomfortably close to your own. He reached his hand forward and hooked his index finger beneath your chin, lifting your gaze to focus on his eyes.

“I need you,” he whispered into your face with a hint of close intimacy, holding firm to your chin and pulling all of your focus into his gaze. He paused before he released your chin from his firm grip, “to work the bar tonight.”

You felt a blush creep up over your shocked features as your head chef stepped away from you.

“Y-yes chef,” you managed to stutter out from between your clenched teeth, eyes still standing wide in shock. He smirked slightly and brushed his hands over his apron, stepping away from your close proximity. The snickers of your coworkers were reverberating throughout the area, causing more waves of embarrassment to course over your body.

“I meant no disrespect, chef,” you called after him, suddenly. Zeff chuckled in response.

“I know, sweetheart,” he said, “couldn’t resist a challenge though. Get a move on, your shift starts in under an hour.”

He began to retreat back to the kitchen office before calling back over his shoulder; “and Cole was working a double tonight.”

You hung your head and grit your teeth at the shock of the fact your boss actually responded to your non-serious challenge. Your shock was broken by the full belly-laugh from the blonde sous chef next to you, prompting you to snap your gaze over to his. His eyes were closed as he flung his head back and released more of his unhinged laughter.

“Your face,” he managed to gasp out through his unrelenting chuckles, “you should’ve seen your face.”

You growled slightly at the comments made by your coworker.

“Yeah, well I didn’t think my words all the way through, did I?” you spat at him in mock anger. He continued to laugh at you, wiping a small collection of tears spent at your expense.

“I didn’t think the old man had that amount of charm in him,” he said once hunching himself over and wiping his palms over his knees to collect himself.

“To be fair, neither did I,” you replied, “for a second there, I almost caught feelings for the man.”

Sanji chuckled again and straightened himself up.

“Gee if that all it takes to charm you, I should’ve given that a go first. Didn’t need to go through all the trouble of making you breakfast,” he playfully flirted with you, nudging your shoulder with his own. You offered him a warm smile in response.

“Alright, enough playing,” you said, nudging him back, “I’ve got to go get changed out of all this and make myself presentable.”

“You’re always more than beautiful, princess,” Sanji commented at you with a playful smile.

“Hah-hah,” you responded sarcastically, “seriously, love. I’ve got to go get into my bloody uniform now. Customers await.”

You reached your hand up and patted his cheek affectionately.

“Thank you again for breakfast,” you expressed your gratefulness to him, “it was beautiful. We should do this more often.”

He widened his eyes at you and leant slightly into your touch before you turned on your way, returning to your crew quarters. His gaze trailed over you, eyes filling slightly with a small amount of want. Although partially exhausted, he was so glad he gave up his night to preparing a dish especially for you – especially as you released such beautiful sounds acknowledging how much you appreciated it.

He was absolutely going to make something more flavourful for you to hopefully pull more of those melodic sounds from your lips. If he can’t have you moaning his name while coupling with you in a romantic embrace, he was going to extract those illicit sounds from you the only other way he knew how: cooking.

Part 2

#sanji x reader #one piece #sanji #one piece live action #black leg sanji #pining #cooking #creative writing #x reader #opla fic #zeff x reader #flirting #cigarette #smoking

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k-wame · 3 months

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PAAPA ESSIEDU as Jordan & HARRIS DICKINSON as Wes FEMME (Short 2021) dir(s). Sam H. Freeman, Ng Choon Ping

#harris dickinson #paapa essiedu #filmedit #femme 2021 #femme short film #queer #couple #flirtatious #flirty #flirting #short film #movie #sam h. freeman #ng choon ping #lgbt #queer characters #queer media #beautiful men

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underground-secret · 5 days

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The Hunter and the Witch~ Dean Winchester x f! reader

Description: Sam's nightmare leads the group to Saginaw Michigan. But it's more than a nightmare and it's more than any ol' hunt. Things are revealed about the past as it sends them barreling into the future.

Warnings: Cannon violence, I might have gotten a little too carried away with the beginning scene sorry not sorry! flirtation, banter, mentions of su!cide, gore, mentions of child abuse, mentions of past abuse, guns, a roller coaster of emotions, and a lot of angst (no one can be happy...sorry!)

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @okayiamkassandra , @fablesrose , @ada--44 @bonkydarnes , @star-yawnznn @crazyunsexycool @onlyangel-444 @seninjakitey @mystic-mara

Word Count: 9,912

Nightmare

(Masterlist, Prev Ch, Next Ch)

I turn over in my bed, burying my head deeper into the pillows to ignore the loud and insistent banging from my door. I mumble incoherently into the covers, sleep having its claws so deep into my brain. “Please open the door, sweetheart. ‘m tryna give you privacy here but if this door isn’t open in five seconds I’m gonna use my key,” Dean warns loudly, his voice raspy. I hum softly into the bedding but make no move to get up, instead snuggling deeper into the blankets. The remains of sleep creep into the corners of my mind, hazing the rest of my brain.

Suddenly a gentle calloused hand is on my bare shoulder, “Come on baby, as much as I wanna let you sleep Sammy needs us to hurry.”

“Mhm,” I hum halfheartedly, digging myself further into the bed if possible. “Alright that’s it,” he says finally. There's some shuffling before the covers are pulled back, a rush of cold air prickling my exposed legs followed by the warmth of his hands dragging up and down my calves slowly before leaving to pull down my slip nightgown further past my butt. That wakes me up. My eyes flutter open, and as much as I loved my little cotton nightgown every time I wore it to bed I woke up to a full tit out and the bottom up at my hips. Luckily this time I didn’t think it rode up so high, it had only felt like it was just barely covering my butt, so at the most, he saw a flash of my underwear which is not the most ideal thing to happen, and also insanely embarrassing but at least I was wearing one of my cute pairs. And at least he didn’t comment on it, except he did pull it down further which means he probably did see…oh god.

“Okay! I’m awake Dean!” I say, my words half mumbled by the bed but if I turned over he would also be seeing a boob today and he had seen enough already. His hands grip my ankles, his thumbs rubbing my skin, oh lord. No. I have to focus…and not on how butterflies are erupting in my stomach, fluttering around frantically, “Not convinced baby, not until I see you get up,” he conceded. He was really playing with my resolve and it was a very fickle thing to begin with.

“Yeah, so if I flip myself around you’d be getting flashed. These nightgowns…just you know…” I admit, my face warm for two different reasons. His thumbs pause and I can practically hear the arch of his brow and that devilish smirk, “By all means, continue…”

“Dean,” I warn.

“I really wouldn’t object to it, wouldn’t complain one bit,” he comments, his voice dripping with amusement. “Dean!” His hands leave me entirely and I suddenly miss the warmth he brought, “Alright, alright,” he gives in, “I’ll go, be waitin’ in the car. I’d hurry though Sam’s freaking out about needing to leave but won't say anythin’ more.”

The initial embarrassment of being woken up the way I was or at least the result of that, as well as being a little “late” had long worn off except for when Dean caught my eyes in the rearview mirror then it all came rushing back. But I needed to screw my head on right, and not get distracted by his playful teasing manner, he was most likely compensating for the fact that he had to say goodbye to the woman he loved again. Ending on good terms aside those feelings don’t just magically disappear especially when it only happened recently. Either way, I was thankful for the nightfall's darkness, because with each gaze my face heated up even if it was against my better judgment.

I needed to focus.

Sam had his ear pressed into his phone, reading from a fake ID to potentially give real information, “McReady. Detective McReady, badge number 158. I’ve got a signal 480 in progress, I need the registered owner of a two-door sedan, Michigan license plate Mary-Frank-six-zero-three-seven…Yeah okay, just hurry.”

Dean glances over at his brother, concern written in his eyes, “Sammy relax. I’m sure it’s just a nightmare.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Sam remarks.

“You know considering he was right about your old house I’m pretty much convinced he’s right about this one too,” I add. Dean adjusts his hold on the steering wheel, “It could also just be a dream. Y’know, a normal everyday, naked-in-class, nightmare. This license plate, it won’t check out. You’ll see,” Dean tries to reason though I can't understand why he won’t accept that Sam has been right before and will be right again, my only guess would be fear.

“I mean I suppose,” I shrug, “but even just logically speaking unless you’re lucid dreaming you can’t read in your sleep, as the part of your brain that’s responsible for logic and intellect shuts down. So following that logic, he wouldn’t have been able to read or understand that license plate, that fact must hold some merit here.”

“Alright, maybe he was lucid dreamin’ then,” Dean suggests instead, finding any reason for his brother not to be a psychic.

“It felt different Dean. Real,” Sam shakes his head, eyes focused as he tries to explain, “Like when I dreamt about the old house and Jessica.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. You’re dreaming about our house, your girlfriend,” Dean points out, “This guy in your dream, you ever seen him before?”

“No,” Sam responds.

“It doesn't matter if you've actually seen someone they can still be in your dreams because when you're walking around you're subconsciously watching and cataloging them,” I explain, “Though of course you're most likely to have dreams about people you see or think about more often, but still people you pass in real life can be in your dream.” Dean catches my eyes again in the mirror, gazing at me questioningly, “Why do you know so much about dreams?”

I shrug, “I don't know, it’s interesting so I just go down a rabbit hole of information. Plus there are a lot of psychological aspects to dreams which can make them important to analysis.” Dean shakes his head as if shaking away the information, “So why would he have premonitions about some random dude from Michigan.”

I rub my eyes, tiredness still trying to cling to me to the point of my eyes aching, “Yeah I don’t have an answer to that one.” Dean turns his gaze to his brother, silently asking him the same question, “I don’t know,” he answers. “Me neither,” Dean shrugs with one shoulder though it was more done to prove his point.

“Yes I’m here,” Sam says suddenly, pressing the phone closer to his ear. He goes silent, listening, then throws a glare at Dean and picks up his pen, “Jim Miller. Saginaw, Michigan. ‘You have a street address?… Got it. Thanks.” He moves his phone away from him, clicking a button, most likely hanging up, “Checks out. How far are we?”

“From Saginaw? Coupla hours,” Dean answers. “Drive faster.”

The Impala cruises to a stop, Emergency vehicles lined up followed by two medical examiners pushing a stretcher with a body bag on it just being zippered. We were late and it was hard to know whether it was by a couple of minutes or hours, but it didn’t matter because we were late and someone was dead.

We approach the crowd, a couple of neighbors dressed in their pajamas and a coat watching the scene from behind a line of caution tape. “What happened?” Dean asks a nearby woman.

“Suicide,” she answers, “Can’t believe it.”

“Did you know them?” Sam questions, moving to the woman’s other side.

She frowns, “‘Saw him every Sunday at St. Augustine’s,” she replies, oversharing to a couple of strangers but it was helpful so there was no way we would tell her to stop, “He always seems…seemed so normal. I guess you never know what’s going on behind closed doors.”

“Guess not,” Dean acknowledges, looking straight ahead.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” I say softly, maybe she didn’t know the guy so well but seeing him weekly still meant something. She nods in thanks.

“How did…uhh” Sam stammers, “How are they saying it happened?” It was a total conversation turn but once more it was necessary. “I heard they found him in the garage, locked inside his car with the engine running,” she answers. Carbon dioxide poisoning from a car makes it hard for it to be an accident so of course the initial thought would be suicide and I doubt it would be easy to prove otherwise with a death like that.

“Do you know about what time they found him,” Sam pushes and I hope she doesn’t think we’re being weird about this and asking a little too many questions. “Oh, ‘just happened about an hour or two ago,” she says. Frick, frick that wasn’t long ago at all. “His poor family,” she continues, “I can’t even imagine what they’re going through.” I follow her gaze to a woman standing on the front steps crying against a middle-aged man. A young distraught man stands behind them. I could imagine what they were feeling and it was horrible. Grief was not pretty and those feelings were even uglier, leaving a permanent mark on your heart.

Someone tugs on my sweatshirt sleeve, I follow the motion watching Dean walk away following his brother who had stormed away. I follow them, making the quick walk to the Impala.

“Sam we got here as fast as we could,” Dean reasons.

“Not fast enough,” Sam shakes his head, a pained look painted on his face, “It doesn’t make any sense man. Why would I even have these premonitions if there wasn’t a chance I could stop them from happening.”

I bit my lips, thinking for a moment before speaking, “Maybe it wasn’t about him exactly, like maybe it’s bigger than that. Sometimes that happens, remember what I said about oneiromancy or using dreams to predict the future? Well sometimes it’s not so literal, sometimes it serves as a warning or pointing you in a specific direction for whatever reason. Now I know your whole thing is different and more detailed than that but do you get what I mean?”

He nods, clearly thinking it over. “I don’t know though, I’m no expert but I’m just tryna say to keep it in mind,” I add. He shakes his head and sighs, “So what do you think killed him?”

“Maybe the guy just killed himself?” Dean suggests, “Maybe there’s nothing supernatural going on at all.”

“Then why would he have such a vivid dream of just some random dude dying?” I point out, immediately realizing my contradiction. “I dunno,” Dean shrugs, “Maybe it’s like you said, it’s pointing to somethin’ else.”

“I watched it happen. He was murdered by something. I watched it trap him in the garage,” Sam explains.

“What was it, a spirit, poltergeist, what?” Dean asks in rapid succession. Sam huffs, “I don’t know what it was. I don’t know why I’m having these dreams, I don’t know what the hell is happening!” He was freaking out, totally and utterly freaking out and he had every right to be. “It’s alright Sam,” I say softly, “We’ll figure this out, I promise. ‘No matter how long it takes.”

He sighs, mumbling a “Thanks.” I couldn't imagine what he was feeling, I always knew who I was even if nobody else did. To know one thing your whole life just to be thrown onto a totally new path with no explanation must be terrifying. “What,” Sam says suddenly throwing a look at his brother who was just staring at him. Dean shrugs, “Nothing. I’m just, I’m worried about you man,” he confesses.

“Well don’t look at me like that!” Sam yells. Dean looks away, “I’m not looking at you like anything,” he retorts, glancing back, “Though I gotta say, you do look like crap.”

“Dean. Really?” I say.

“Nice. Thanks,” Sam replies, pursing his lips. With a small smile, Dean moves to the driver's side of the car, pulling the door open, “Come on, let’s just pick this up in the morning. We’ll check out the house, talk to the family.”

“Dean, you saw them, they’re devastated. They’re not going to want to talk to us,” Sam reasons. Dean pauses in thought, “Yeah, you’re right. But I think I know who they will talk to.”

I scoff, “Who?”

I pull open my motel door, the sun shining brightly behind the man in front of me highlighting his stunning green eyes. His arms are hidden behind his back, “What do you have there?” I ask, squinting at him suspiciously. “Oh, just a little somethin’” he smirks devilishly, gazing down at me.

“You’re scaring me,” I admit, “I’m scared.”

“Don’t be,” he grins revealing what he was hiding. He holds up a rectangular Halloween costume bag, the classic orange logo on the top, and a blonde woman in a nun costume holding a ruler on the other side. I look between him and the bag his smile never leaving his face a mischievous sparkle in his eye, “Sam and I are going as Preiests so we need our nun,” he explains.

“Tell me you're joking,” I say blankly, my face falling.

“Not at all sweetheart.”

I huff a laugh, pointing at the bag, “I’m not wearing that.”

“You gotta,” he replies.

“No offense to the nuns of the world, but I would rather be shot dead than wear that.”

“‘Cause it’s not cute?” Dean asks though it comes off more like a statement as he knows my answer. “Yes,” I answer flatly, “I’m not wearing that.”

“Maybe I shoulda picked up the slutty one,” he retorts, thinking he got me there. I cross my arms across my chest, wetting my lips, “You should’ve, ‘be good for Halloween,” I counter. Checkmate. He drags his eyes across my frame. my face heats up, “While I’d love to see to that, Halloween is months away and you’re being ridiculous.”

“Still not wearing it,” I say as sternly as I can manage, which isn’t very considering my mind trying to compute what he said. “Come on,” he grumbles, “what am I gonn’ do with a nun costume now?” He pushes past me, stepping deeper into the room. I close the door, turning around, “I don't know, return it? Or use it for one of your one-night stands, I’m sure you’ll find someone kinky enough.”

He looks at me blankly, deadpanning, “You’re wearing it.”

“No”

“Yes”

“No”

“Yes”

“I’ll just sit this one out, wait in the car or something ‘till you’re done,” I say.

“You’re wearing it,” he repeats.

“No”

“Yes”

“You’re not winning this one!” I throw my hands up.

“Y/N come on!”

“No!”

He groans, annoyed, “If you wear it I’ll buy you whatever book you want.”

Oh. I mean it’s only a couple of minutes of embarrassment and ugly clothing, “Okay, deal. Fine.” His wide grin returns, he throws the bag at me and I catch it, looking down at it with disgust. “‘Not gonna bite sweetheart,” Dean says as he heads out.

“Yeah, but I might,” I mumble.

I fixed the Coif on my head for the hundredth time, I should’ve put more bobby pins in my hair. God. How did Nuns wear these? It just digs into your scalp and the most hair you could show was just the very top, probably about three inches, the rest of your hair was hidden along with your ears. It was the least cute or sexy thing to ever exist, faces were not being framed.

“Quit poutin’, you're supposed to be a Nun, be happy,” Dean comments as he rounds the car.

“I look like I'm going to burn myself at the stake,” I huff.

Sam laughs, having to bite back the noise. “You look fine,” Dean says. I look down at myself, the long black dress covering everything down at my ankles and a strange-looking white squared bib thing around my neck, “Who are you lying to right now!”

Dean huffs frustrated, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“At least you guys look good, like really good,” I say maybe a little too honestly. Sam had his hair all jelled back in a cute little hairdo, he was quite adorable. And on the other side, it really must have been the all-black attire, forget about the clerical cuff and that damn silver ring on his finger that made Dean look so good. Otherwise, there was something deeply wrong with me and I’d have to reevaluate my life, ‘cause there should be no reason for a “Priest” to look so damn fine. Lord, I need help.

“Let’s just get this over with,” Dean declares. He leads the way crossing the street and walking right up the porch, he rings the doorbell that silver ring glinting in the light. Sam sighs, “This has gotta be a whole new low for us.”

“Amen,” I mumble.

The door opens slowly and I throw away my pout replacing it with a kind smile. The older man from yesterday stands at the door, blocking our view of the rest of the house. Now that it wasn’t dark out and I was far closer, I was able to take note of him: a round-faced man with dark eyebrows and a sort of buzzcut.“Good afternoon,” Dean starts, “I’m Father Simmons, this is Father Frehley, and this is Sister Kathern We’re new junior priests over at St Augustine's. May we come in?”

The man nods, stepping aside. “Thanks,” Dean says entering first. I give the man a polite nod, “We’re very sorry for your loss.”

“It’s in difficult times like these when the Lord’s guidance is most needed,” Dean adds.

“Look, you wanna pitch your whole ‘Lord has a plan’ thing? Fine. Just don’t pitch it to me. My brother’s dead,” the man spits, his face wobbling with choked emotion. An older blonde woman appears, her soft hair only reaching her shoulders, her eyes etched in sadness, “Roger. Please!” she lectures. Roger moves away, escaping to some other part of the house, “Excuse me.”

“I’m sorry about my brother-in-law. He’s…he’s just so upset about Jim’s death,” she explains.

“You don’t have to apologize, we completely understand. Everyone grieves differently,” I say sincerely. Her eyes soften, a sad smile on her face, “Would you like some coffee?”

“That would be great,” Dean answers.

****

I sit next to Sam on the loveseat, Dean beside him in an armchair. Ms. Miller pours coffee gently into a couple of little white mugs, she hands one to each of us, “It was wonderful of you to stop by. The support of the church means so much right now.”

“Of course. After all, we are all God’s children,” Dean replies smoothly, taking a sip of the black coffee. She stands up taking the coffee pot with her. Dean takes that opportunity to shove a bunch of cocktail sausages into his mouth, he was really taking advantage of her leaving food out on a little platter. “What?” he asks with a mouthful of food, responding to his brothers staring. “Just…tone it down a little bit, Father,” he responds.

Ms. Miller returns then, emptyhanded, she sits back down. Dean swallows his mouth full of food before talking again, “So Ms. Miller, did your husband have a history of depression?”

“Nothing like that,” she answers her eyes already tearing up, “We had our ups and downs like everyone but we were happy,” the tears run rapidly down her face, “I just don’t understand…how Jim could do something like this.”

“I’m so sorry you had to find him like that,” Sam replies sincerely. She wipes her tear-stained face, gesturing behind her, “Actually, our son Max, he was the one who found him.”

“Do you mind if maybe, I go talk to him?” Sam asks.

“Oh thank you, Father,” she musters a sad smile. He rises, following the direction she pointed.

“Ms.Miller you have a lovely home. How long have you lived here?” Dean inquires.

“We moved in about five years ago,” she answers.

“The only problem with these old homes, ‘bet it gives you all kinds of headaches,” he comments. Her face washes over in confusion, “Like what?”

“Well, weird leaks, electrical shortages, odd settling noises at night,” he lists, “That kind of thing.”

She shakes her head, “No, nothing like that. It’s been perfect.”

“Huh,” Dean hums, “May I use your restroom?”

“Oh sure, it’s just up the stairs,” she says. He nods, rising and taking another cocktail sausage before leaving. Now I was left to fend for myself in a social situation I wasn't totally prepared for. What do I say? “Is there anything I could do for you that might make you feel better? I understand how hard it is now.”

She tears up again, “I don’t know.” I lean over placing a gentle hand on her arm, “It’s okay…it’s okay," I say softly.

I enter the boy's motel room, following Sam. We had just come back from researching about the Miller’s house. I close and lock the door behind me, so grateful that I had been out of that nun outfit for more than an hour. “What do you have?” Dean asks, his entire arsenal spread out around him as he sits on the edge of the bed cleaning a gun. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows as he works the weapons, I have to force my gaze away. Men should not be allowed to look good doing random tasks, it wasn’t fair.

“A whole lotta nothing. Nothing bad has happened in the Miller house since it was built,” Sam answers sinking onto his bed.

“What about the land?” Dean questions further.

“Nope,” I say, “There were no battles or graveyards, it’s not tribal land and no kind of atrocities happened on or near the property.”

“Hey man I told you, I searched that house up and down. No cold spots, sulfer scent. Nada,” Dean adds.

“And the family said everything was normal?” Sam checks.

“Well, if there was a demon or poltergeist in there you think somebody would have noticed something? I used the inferred thermal scanner man, and there was nothing,” Dean answers.

I sigh moving to sit at the end of Sam's bed, “Back to square one.”

“So what, you think Jim Miller killed himself and my dream was just some sorta freakish coincidence?” Sam questions.

“I dunno,” Dean answers truthfully, “I’m pretty sure there’s nothing supernatural about that house.”

Sam gets a pained look in his eyes, bringing his hand up to rub his temples, “Yeah. Well, maybe it has nothing to do with the house,” he inhales sharply holding his head, “Maybe it’s just…Gosh,” he clutches his head, “... Maybe its connected to Jim in some other way?”

“Sammy you okay?” I ask, placing a careful hand on his bicep just as Dean says, “What’s wrong with you?” I throw him a sharp glare, way to word it. Sam makes strained pained noises, sinking to the floor, “My head.”

Dean practically jumps from his bed, “Sam? Hey,” he sinks right next to his brother in a crouch grabbing Sam’s arms, “Hey! What’s going on? Talk to me.”

I stand up concern running through my blood, “Sam! Come on!” I've never seen something like this before, it was completely foreign which only made it more terrifying. Dean throws a pleading look at me and I stand not knowing what to do, “I-I don’t know, I’m sorry.” He turns back to his brother, not saying anything as he holds on to him.

Then, Sam slowly removes his hands from his head, focusing back on reality as he warns, “It’s happening again. Something’s gunna kill Roger Miller.”

My leg bounces in the back seat. once more we were running against an invisible and unknown clock, running to save someone with little to no information given. And once more Sams is on the phone trying to get information quickly that will help us, “Roger Miller. Uh no no, just the address, please. Ok, thanks.” He goes quiet with the information before hanging up and reciting it, “450 West Grove, Apartment 1120.”

“You ok?” Dean asks, eyeing his brother in quick succession.

“Yeah,” he answers in the least convincing tone possible.

“If you’re gunna hurl I’ll pull the car over you know, cause the upholstery…” Dean says, not really joking.

“I’m fine,” Sam answers still not convincingly enough.

“Alright,” Dean shrugs, dropping it.

“Just drive,” he says, looking away. He sighs, “Look, I’m scared, alright? These nightmares weren’t bad enough, now I’m seeing things when I’m awake? And it’s painful.”

“Come on man, you’ll be all right. It’ll be fine,” Dean comforts in his own way. I wet my lips, choosing my words carefully, “Whatever these abilities are, they’re advancing which is why it’s breaching into day. And because it's leaning more toward psychic abilities it takes a great amount of will, and concentration, and puts a horrible strain on your mind which is why it's painful. But the more you work on it the better it’ll be.”

He turns around in the passenger seat, facing me, “You have telekinesis, right?” I nod, his eyebrows scrunch together, “It hurt when you were first started?”

“God, yes,” I laugh bittersweet, “It just requires so much focus, more so at first, that I had headaches constantly. I tried not to use too much Advil, but they were definitely making a profit off of me, that’s for sure.” He seems to consider the information, turning back in his seat, “Then what is it about the Millers? Why am I connected to them, why am I watching them die? Why the hell is this happening to me?!”

“I don’t know Sam but we’ll figure it out,” Dean answers, “We’ve faced the unexplainable every day. This is just another thing.”

Sam shakes his head, “No. It’s never been us. It’s never been in the family like this. Tell the truth, you can’t tell me this doesn’t freak you out, Dean.”

Dean looks straight out the windshield silently, he couldn’t lie because Sam and I both witnessed him freak out before over it. Of course, then we’d all been younger, and he lashed out at me and when he left he hadn’t talked to me or apologized for months, I think it was about five. These sorts of things do freak him out, and sometimes I think the things I’m capable of doing still scare him sometimes, and that's just with someone he's friends with. With his brother, that fear must be a million times worse. “This doesn’t freak me out,” he finally says, lying.

****

The Impala pulls up across the street from Roger, who approaches his apartment's entrance with a bag of groceries in his hands. Sam rolls down the window swiftly yelling for the man, “Hey Roger.” The man turns around, the annoyance on his face clear as day, “What are you guys, missionaries? Leave me alone.”

I lean over rolling down the window opposite of where I sit, “Sir this has nothing to do with religion! Trust me.”

“Please,” Sam adds. But Roger is already gone, walking closer to his building. Suddenly the car jerks into motion the engine gunning as it makes a quick turn around, and with a bump Dean jumps the curve hurriedly parking as Sam jumps out running after the man, “Hey. Roger. We’re trying to help! Please! Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey.”

I get out of the vehicle, round the black car, and head to Sam’s side, Dean following. As Sam reaches the entrance, Roger closes the door behind him, “I don’t want your help.” He walks deeper into the building and in a last-ditch effort Sam yells, “We’re not priests or nuns, you gotta listen to us!”

“Roger, you’re in danger!” Dean yells after him. But of course he doesn't hear them or if he does he just ignores the warnings. God people are so stubborn. “Come on,” Dean suddenly says looking towards a back entrance, he leads the way as we run around the corner of the building to the back entrance, a door in the way. With a quick look around Dean steps back and kicks it open, the door bursts open with a crack.

Sam jumps for the bottom ladder of the fire escape, using his tall frame to easily reach it, he pulls himself up and starts running for the stairs. Dean turns to me offering me a cupped hand, “You comin’?” he asks. I shake my head, pushing strands of hair behind my ear, “No you go, there isn't enough room for the three of us on that thing, you go. I’ll keep watch. He needs you.”

He looks me over, before nodding and jumping for the ladder, catching up to his brother swiftly. Against my better judgment instead of keeping watch, I look up at them, a hand blocking the sun as they make it up to the second floor. Then all of a sudden there's a heavy squeak and slide of a window followed by a wet squelching noise. Sam freezes, Dean sprints past him and stops looking down at something I can’t see from down here but even so, I know it is Roger’s severed head.

****

“I’m telling you there was nothing there. No signs either, just like the Miller’s house,” Dean informs, once more the three of us in the car this time driving back to the motel. Sam squints his eyes, slightly, in focus, “I saw something, in the vision, Like a dark shape. Something was…something was stalking Roger.”

“Whatever it was, are you sure it’s not connected to their house?” Dean asks, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel.

“You know that argument doesn't really hold up anymore considering Roger died in his apartment,” I answer fidgeting with my fingers, “So it could be the family itself.”

“So you think, like a vengeful spirit?” Sam questions.

“Well yeah,” Dean responds, “There’s a few that have been known to latch onto families, follow them for years.”

“Angiak. Banshees,” Sam lists out examples.

“Wouldn’t you have still picked up on something when you were snooping around?” I ask this time, looking up from my hands. “No, I was thinking somethin’ more like a curse,” Dean explains, “Maybe Roger and Jim Miller got involved in something heavy, something curse-worthy.”

Sam hums, adding to the working theory, “And now the something is out for revenge. And the men in their family are dying…Hey, you think Max is danger?”

“Let’s figure it out before he is,” Dean remarks. Sam sighs, “Well, I know one thing I have in common with these people.”

“What’s that?” Dean asks.

“Both our families are cursed,” Sam says like it's the most obvious thing in the world. I frown, one because he feels that way and two because I dislike when people say that. Dean huffs, “Our family’s not cursed! We just…had our dark spots…”

“Our dark spots are…pretty dark,” Sam nods slowly. Dean eyes him, “You’re….dark.”

I scuff, “Well as dark as it was you don’t have to worry, curses aren’t real.”

Sam turns around in his seat, facing me, “You’re a witch and you don’t believe in curses?”

I tilt my head giving him a ‘really?’ look, “That’s not what I meant, of course those kinds of curses exist they are very real and palpable things,” I wet my lips, “What I meant is that this curse you suggest to be the reason why you suffered misfortune isn’t real and that goes for everybody. Bad things just happen. And I know you probably weren’t being too literal but still blaming bad things on curses doesn’t help you in the long run it just serves as an excuse for you not to face your problems and acknowledge the real issue.”

Sam looks at me with slightly wide eyes and when I look at Dean, his expression is more or less the same if not even more, “What?” I ask eyeing the two of them. Sam turns back around in his seat a small smirk on his face, Dean gives a little shrug, “Nothin’, just someone’s using their psychology degree.”

I snort, suddenly getting shy, “Shut up,” I mumble. The thing was I wasn’t using my psychology degree this was just me, not that I was embarrassed by my degree. I took education very seriously, especially college. So of course I wound up double majoring, one in criminal justice and the other in psychology, but could you blame a girl? Either way, I didn't like when people said things like that, blaming something on a force they didn’t understand and had no real play in any of it.

I pull down the sleeves of the black Nun dress, readjusting the material, “I hope you know this is another book,” I say closing the car door behind me. Dean seems to round the Impala quicker at that, “What?! No, that wasn’t part of the deal.”

I purse my lips, “Yes, but when we made that deal it was under the presumption that it would only happen once in this case. And yet, here we are again.”

Dean opens his mouth to say something more but his brother cuts him off, “Wait, you guys made a deal?”

I smile triumphantly, “Yup!”

Sam frowns a little pout to his lips, his puppy-dog eyes turned down, “Man,” he whines, “I should’ve made a deal.”

“You should’ve,” I respond, thinking for a moment, “You know what? I will extend my second book to you, you are now included!”

He shakes his head, “No Y/N it's okay, have your books.”

Now I shake my head, “No no I want to, nothing would bring me more joy than the three of us going to a bookstore, and while Dean impatiently waits for us and grumbles to himself we get to wreak havoc and choose books!” Sam smiles with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “That does sound like a good idea.”

“You’re an evil woman,” Dean grumbles.

I smile sweetly at him, “I prefer ‘wicked’ but I guess that’s close enough.”

He eyes me for a beat, tongue against cheek as if he is contemplating saying something but ultimately he looks away, “We’re meant to be checking in on Max.”

Oh, “Yeah,” I say leading the way. “See, this always happens,” he states, reaching my side in one stride.

��What happens?” Sam asks.

“Whenever you two are together we get nothing done,” he elaborates. I fake a hurt gasp, “That’s so not true!” I mean we could be annoying, sure, but that was our whole job especially since we’re younger siblings it’s just how it works.

We reach the door and he knocks before anyone can say anything more on the topic. Instead of Ms. Miller answering the door her son, Max, does. He opens the door wider, “My Mom’s resting, she’s pretty wrecked.”

“Of course,” Dean nods, stepping deeper into the house.

“All these people kept coming with like, casseroles?” Max says, making small talk, “I finally had to tell them all to go away. You know 'cause nothing says I’m sorry like a tuna casserole.” I bite back my laugh, very poorly, he caught it giving a smile back to me and Sam who was also grinning at the joke. Max gestures to the seating area his mom put us just earlier today, and just like then we all take the same seats, but this time it's Max in front of us.

A beat of silence goes on before Sam sighs, speaking softly he asks, “How ‘you holding up?”

His face drops a little, answering with a small, “Ok.”

“You’re Dad and your uncle were close,” Sam follows up, stating instead of asking.

He shrugs, “Yeah, I guess. I mean, they were brothers. They used to hang out all the time when I was little.”

“But not much lately?” Sam asks.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just…” he shifts in his seat, “We used to be neighbors when I was a kid before we lived across town in this house. Uncle Roger lived next door, so he was over all the time.”

“Right. So how was it in that house when you were a kid?” Sam questions further.

“It was fine. Why?” Max answers, dismissively. He was uncomfortable, something about that old house made him uneasy.

“All good memories? Do you remember anything unusual? Something involving your father and your uncle maybe?” Dean asks this time, skepticism written in his voice. Max shakes his head, slight panic crawling in his irises, “What do yo…..why do you ask?”

I recognized that panic. Knew it well. I remember wearing it, how it crawled over my skin. “Don’t worry it’s just a question,” I nod, noting his behavior.

“No, there was nothing. We were totally normal. Happy,” he replies suddenly more sure of his answer.

“Good. That’s good,” Dean answers, “Well, you must be exhausted. We should take off.”

Catching on Sam nods, “Right,” he looks back at Max, “thanks.”

Max eyes us, something between panic and questioning, “Yeah.”

****

We make it to the Imapla before debriefing, the panic in his eyes burning into my retinas.

“No one’s family is totally normal and happy,” Dean starts, pointing out the faults of Max’s response, “See when he was talking about his old house?”

“He sounded scared,” Sam answers sadly.

A chill runs up my spine, “More than that, he was petrified. And I don’t think it has anything to do with the house…”

“Yeah, Max isn’t telling us everything,” Dean agrees, “I say we go find the old neighborhood, find out what life was really like for the Millers.”

I shift my footing, fixing my pants (which I was glad to be in again) as I watch the older man named Rob in front of us. “Have you lived in the neighborhood very long?” Sam asks him.

“Yeah, almost 20 years now. It’s nice and quiet. Why, you looking to buy,” he answers and I can’t tell if he wants us to be interested or wishes to keep out outsiders. Maybe the earlier, he seems kind.

“No, no,” Sam smiles, “Actually, we were wondering if you might recall a family that used to live right across the street I believe.”

“Yeah, the Millers. They had a little boy called Max,” Dean adds.

“Yeah I remember,” he responds, “The brother had the place next door. So, uh, what’s this about, is that poor kid ok?” That makes me stumble over my thoughts, “He….um, I’m sorry why did you word it like that?”

Rob frowns, “Well in my life I’ve never seen a child treated like that. I mean I’d hear Mr. Miller yelling and throwing things clear across the street, he was a mean drunk.” My skin curls up, my fears confirmed. My heart recoils, cowering away from the information and the thoughts. “He used to beat the tar outta Max. Bruises. Broke his arm two times that I know of,” Rob continued.

I take a subconscious step backward. I don’t understand, if he knew why didn’t he do anything? Why didn’t he call the police?

“This was going on regularly?” Sam asks, his voice firm.

“Practically every day. In fact that thug brother of his was just as likely to take a swing at the boy but the worst part was the sepmother. She’d just stand there, checked out, not lifting a finger to protect him. I must have called the police seven or eight times. Never did any good.”

I suddenly feel nauseous. He was finally free now but that was too many years too late.

“Now you said stepmother,” Dean says for confirmation. How could he not be reacting to this information?

“I think his real mother died. Some sorta…accident. Car accident I think,” Rob answers.

Suddenly Sam clutches his head again, grimacing. Rob looks at him strangely, “Are you okay there?”

He winces, “Uh, yeah.” Dean holds the crook of his brother's arm, leading him away as he throws back a “Thanks for your time.”

I blink out of what feels like a daze, mustering a smile for the man, “Have a nice day,” I say before catching up to the boys. But my feet feel heavy, as if cylinder blocks had been tied to my ankles. My intestines seem to twist itself into a knot, wrapped around like a bow. I clutch my shirt where my stomach is, my heart seems to beat faster an unnerving feeling settling itself into the vessels. I could hardly focus on my tense body and anxious thoughts when Sam’s head lulls back, his eyes doing that thing where you can tell he isn’t here with us right now. He’s somewhere else, having a vision.

****

I want to curl into myself and shy away from the current case. But we were in the Impala driving back to the Millers house and Sam still had to tell us about his vision. “Max is doing it. Everything I’ve been seeing,” Sam reveals. I should be surprised but I’m not, maybe it’s because of the newfound information.

“You sure about this?” Dean asks, almost skeptical.

“Yeah, I saw him,” he confirms.

“How is he doing it?” I ask carefully.

“I think telekinesis,” Sam answers.

“What so he’s psychic?” Dean questions, definitely skeptical.

“I didn’t even realize it but this whole time, he was there. He was outside the garage when his Dad died, he was in the apartment when his Uncle died,” Sam elaborates, “These visions, this whole time–I wasn’t connecting to the Millers, I was connecting to Max! The thing is I don't get why, man. I guess—because we’re so alike?”

“What are you talking about? The dude’s nothing like you,” Dean responds firmly.

“Well,” Sam tries to reason, “We both have psychic abilities, we both…”

“Both what? Sam, Max is a monster, he’s already killed two people, now he’s gunning for a third,” Dean exclaims. This was all getting very complicated very fast. “He’s not a monster he’s a kid. It isn’t his fault, he’s a product of his messed up childhood,” I defend, my voice filled with perhaps a little too much emotion.

“With what he went through, the beatings, to want revenge on those people? I’m sorry, man, I hate to say it, but it’s not that insane,” Sam adds, agreeing. I nod vigorously, it isn’t insane, not one bit.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t justify murdering your entire family!” Dean yells, his voice louder than needed.

“No of course not. But clearly, no one else was caring about him. No one made any effort to help him, not even the police! So you must understand why he felt like he needed to take justice into his own hands,” I argue. This was complicated, this was human. And humans, human feelings get messy very quickly.

“You're suggesting he's a necessary evil?” Dean counters, his voice gruff and on edge.

“Maybe, yeah,” I answer, crossing my arms across my chest. The car jerked right, driving up to the curb in front of the Miller’s house. “He’s no different from anything else we’ve hunted, all right? We gotta end him,” Dean lectured.

“We’re not going to kill Max,” Sam and I say at the same time, our voices overlapping. “He’s a kid!” I add.

“Then what?” Dean counters, “Hand him over to the cops and say ‘Lock him up officer; he kills with the power of his mind.’”

I huff, “That’s not the point and you know it. We can talk him down, he isn’t a monster and I highly doubt he would kill just for fun. He’s angry and he’s hurt, he needs help. If we do that then we are just as bad as his uncle and his dad and the cops that refused to help.”

He shuts the engine off, pursing his lips and shaking his head, “All right fine. But I’m not letting him hurt anybody else.” Yet, despite his words he leans over to the glove compartment and pulls out a pistol. He glares at Sam as he gets out of the car. I catch his eyes, “Dean.” He looks at me, challenging me, before ultimately getting out and tucking the gun into the back of his pants. I roll my eyes, tongue in cheek, pissed. I get out of the car, joining the boys but not before slamming the car door behind me.

We run up the porch, Sam in the lead. He knocks on the door, and when no response comes he leans over the railing peeking in the window. He looks back at us and he does not have to say anything for us to know what was happening. Max was going to kill his Stepmother.

Without thinking any further, Dean raises his leg to kick the door in. I stop him, “Dude way to be inconspicuous. Let me.” He backs up a few steps, hands raised in defeat. I grasp the cold knob of the door, not needing to put much effort into getting the door unlocked. We rush into the kitchen, where Sam said Max would do it. Ms. Miller presses her back closer against the counters, her eyes wide and filled with tears and fear as she watches her son in front of her. Her eyes snap to us, “Fathers? Sister?” Ironically enough, we weren’t dressed up instead in normal clothes which I wasn’t sure if priests and nuns ever did. Max spins around, poorly concealing the large knife behind his back, his hair is a mess and his eyes match his stepmothers in fear after all he was caught. “What are you doing here?” he asks, afraid.

“Uhh, sorry to interrupt,” Dean answers awkwardly.

“Max, can we, uh, can we talk to you outside for just one second?” Sam leads, fumbling for an excuse. He eyes us, he doesn’t trust us, “About what?”

“It’s….it’s private. I wouldn’t want to bother your mother with it,” Sam lies, “We won’t be long at all though, I promise” he says directing it to Ms.Miller. Max looks back at his stepmom and then at us, “Ok.”

“Great,” Sam smiles.

We turn to leave, making it out of the kitchen and to the front door. Dean takes the lead with his hand grasping the doorknob, pulling it open he smiles back at Max awkwardly. Then all of a sudden the doorknob is pulled from his grasp and the door slams shut, followed by the dropping of all the blinds for each window. Impressive. I turn around swiftly watching Max as he backs up, “You’re not priests! Or a nun,” he yells.

Dean draws his gun quickly, but without even moving a muscle Max uses his powers to pull the gun away, it slides across the floor and he crouches down to take it. He stands up tall, pointing the gun at us. Dean nudges me slightly behind him, I want to shove my way in front of him but he holds his arm out in front of me and I don’t feel the need to argue now of all times. Ms.Miller appears in the archway between where we are and the kitchen, “Max, what’s happening?”

“Shut up,” he bites.

“What are you doing?” she repeats, approaching carefully. Removing one hand from the gun he swings his arm towards her, using his power to send her flying back into the kitchen, she hits her head against the kitchen bench before sliding down to the floor. “I said shut up!” he yells at her unconscious figure.

“Max calm down,” Sam says steadily, holding his hands up in defeat.

“Who are you?” Max snaps.

“We just wanna talk,” Sam responds with instead. Max scuffs, “Yeah right, that’s right you bought this!” he motions with the weapon. Sam takes a careful step forward, “That was a mistake, all right? So was lying about who we were. But no more lying Max, okay? Just please, just hear me out.”

He eyes us carefully, “About what?”

“I saw you do it,” Sam explains, carefully, “I saw you kill your Dad and your Uncle before it happened.”

“What?” Max questions.

“I’m having visions Max, about you,” Sam elaborates.

“You’re crazy,” Maxx huffs.

“So what, you weren’t gonna launch a knife at your stepmom?” He challenges, taping his eye, “Right here? Is it that hard to believe Max, look what you can do. Max I was drawn here, all right? I think I’m here to help you.”

His hold on the gun tightens as fresh tears run down his face rapidly, “No one can help me.”

“That’s not true,” I say softly, “I know it feels that way now, and I’m sorry it does. But if anyone can help,” I look at Sam, “It’s him,” I look back at Max, “Please.”

Sam nods, wetting his lips, “Let me try. We’ll just talk, me and you. We’ll get Dean, Y/N, and Alice out of here.”

“Uh-huh. No way,” Dean intervenes. The chandelier above us rattles, “Nobody leaves this house!” Max yells. I want to cut in, I could contain him in a matter of seconds a minute at best. He was skilled, but I certainly knew more than he did. Yet I know I can’t do anything, he’s scared so rushing him with my abilities won’t help. Treating him like a monster won’t help.

“And nobody has to, all right? They’ll just…they’ll just go upstairs,” Sam reasons, but the light fixture continues to rattle.

“Sam, I’m not leaving you alone with him,” Dean mutters.

“Yes, you are,” Sam answers firmly, “Look, Max. You’re in charge here, all right, we know that. No one's going to do anything that you don’t want to do but I’m talking five minutes here man.”

“Sam!” Dean intervenes again. I place a hand on his upper arm, gaining his attention fast and without words, not wanting to scare Max off, I give him a look and a nod silently telling him that his brother will be okay and that he can handle himself. His lip twitches as if he’s fitting off a scowl.

“Five minutes?” Max asks, the chandelier stops shaking, “Go” he nods to his stepmother.

I walk carefully behind Dean, waiting for him as he picks up Ms. Miller, I lead the way up the wooden stairs entering the master bedroom. Dean lays her down carefully, and I find the bathroom attached to the room. I quickly go through the drawers finding a small washcloth, carefully I wet it and ring it out before walking back into the bedroom to find Dean pacing the room, hand by his face. I approach him carefully, he stops his pacing when I step in front of him but worry is written clearly in his eyes, and in the way he hasn’t stopped biting his thumbs nailbed, a habit he exhibited only when he was worried about Sammy.

I raise my free hand to him, pulling it away from his mouth, “He’ll be okay, he knows what he's doing.”

He shakes his head but doesn’t say anything as he takes the washcloth from me before moving past me, he crouches in front of Ms.Miller, lightly pressing the cloth to the small wound on her forehead. He was distracting himself.

I frown. It’s not that he doesn’t believe in his brother, he was just worried. For as much as this was for Sam it was nearly too much for Dean too, he might not be going through it but he was watching someone else navigate the messy plains of powers and the pain that came with it…that was scary. Especially since Dean has always taken his job as an older brother very seriously, doing anything and everything for him no matter the cost, he was meant to be his protector but with these newfound abilities Dean didn’t know how to help, how to protect his little brother– and that scared him.

I cross my arms across my chest, trying to think of what to say when I hear movement heading towards us. I turn towards the door, it creaks open slowly, Max’s figure standing right at the doorway the gun clutched in his hand at his side. I give him a questioning look, but his face is determined and there’s no Sam.

There’s no Sam.

Panic settles in my veins and before I can react Dean is standing in front of me, pushing me further behind him before he takes purposeful steps towards Max. The door slams shut and suddenly Dean goes flying left, barreling into the wall. Oh, two can play that game.

“Max!” Ms.Miller yells from behind me, having woken up in the short time her son arrived. Max points the gun at me with shaky hands, “Move,” he commands. I bring my powers forward, flicking it on, “Do you want to try?” I warn bitterly. He laughs, shaking, “Do you think you’re like me too?”

I assume Sam must have said something about that to him downstairs, “No,” I answer softly. He raises his other hand at me, flicking it to the left trying to send me flying too but I don’t budge. He looks confused and tries again but once more I don’t move. “Max please just put the gun down, this isn’t the way, I promise you,” I reason.

“You don’t get it!” he yells, shaking. I smile at him sadly, holding up my hands in defeat, “Dad drinks and he gets mean,” I say, “You think he doesn’t mean it, he’s just grieving. But it happens one too many times and you get scared.”

His resolve weakens and tears run down his face, “Your Dad?” He isn’t sure whether he should believe me or if I'm just lying to talk him down. I take a quick look over at Dean, who still lies on the floor looking at me with eyes wide, I never told him and I don’t think he ever knew.

I look back at Max, “Yes. My brother took most of it for me, but I reminded him too much of my mother and she was gone while I lived and that was not fair,” I swallow roughly, “I didn’t think he was capable. My mom loved him and he was never like that when she was around, but they did always say she softened him so maybe that’s why.”

“What did you do?” he asks, lowering the gun just a little. I go quiet and he does not like that, he raises the gun again, “Did you kill him?!” he screams.

I shake my head, “No. He managed that all by himself, he grew very careless.”

His eyes scrunch together in confusion, “Did you want to?”

I shake my head again, “No, I didn’t want to be like him. Didn’t want to stoop to his level. My brother though…he, um, I think he wanted to. But he didn’t. When he died, I didn’t cry at his funeral, I wasn’t as sad as I knew I should’ve been, and that alone makes me feel so guilty…” I take a careful deep breath trying to blink away the tears, “Please put the gun down, I know you're angry, you have every right to be. And I know you’re scared but doing this. It won’t help.”

“How do you know!” he screams, his face red, but it comes out weak.

“He’s dead and I’m still scared sometimes,” I admit out loud for the first time, tears slipping down my cheeks as my powers revert to it’s resting stage, “I think I hear his voice or that I see him in a crowd, and I know it’s not really him. But my heart picks up and I think he’s there, and I know what that means and I get scared.”

He looks at me, really looks at me and it is like looking in a mirror, our pain reflecting in each other. He lets go of the gun, but it doesn’t hit the floor instead it floats in front of him, “I’m not you, I won’t sit back and take it. She has to die, they all had to.”

His words feel like a stab to my hurt but I ignore them, “No, Max, please. It won’t help.” I don’t look away from him but even so, I hear Dean standing up and I can feel him getting closer. He puts himself in front of me again, I try to get him behind me, a gun wouldn’t exactly kill me, but he looks down at me his green eyes hard. He moves me behind him, looking back at Max, “You wanna kill her you gotta go through me first.”

“Fine,” he says. Just as the door busts open, Sam comes barreling in, “No don’t! Don’t! Please. Please,” Sam begs, “Max. Max. We can help you. All right.”

I move away from Dean despite the arm that he holds out to stop me from getting closer. Max is shaking, and sweaty, and tears run down his face rapidly. He looks at Sam with anguish, then his gaze turns to me eyes filled with a familiar pain. But his shoulders suddenly drop, and his face clears, “You’re right. It won’t stop.”

The floating gun points at himself. A loud bang rings in the room. Bits of blood splatter on my face. His body crumbles to the floor, a hole in his head.

I stare blankly at a spot on the floor, a small swirl in the wooden floors. Sirens whirl just outside, and cops stand all around us. His body was brought out in a bag. Yellow caution tape sections off parts of the house. Something light was placed in my hand, something to clean the…

Muffled voices sing near me.

He’s dead. I couldn’t convince him, if anything I made it worse. I should’ve said it gets better because it does and it’s not that common that I get scared, I can’t. Not with this job. But I didn’t want to lie and I made it worse.

I feel sick.

I couldn’t help.

He didn’t want to be like me. He’s dead.

He didn’t want to be like me and I didn’t want to be my father and he’s dead. They are both dead and I live.

I live and Dad would say it’s not fair. He’s dead.

A familiar hand nudges me forward, I walk automatically without hearing the voices. Something about…

He’s dead.

The car door opens and I sit inside, automatically putting the seat belt on. Someone says something and the door closes, voices say something outside, and then doors open and close. The car moves forward, the sirens get further away. Eyes look at me and I look at him.

His body falls to the floor a hole in his head.

His body floats away as it burns like a Viking. He hugs me closer to him and we do not cry. We are free sometimes.

His body falls to the floor a hole in his head.

He said it won't stop and there’s a bang.

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junkdrawerfics · 1 year

Text

Sweet Interruptions

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw X Reader

Summary: Rooster meets you, the owner of a local bakery, by chance encounter during a night out on the town with the Daggers. And by chance, I mean he's a little tipsy, you're closed, and Payback really needed those croissants.

Word Count: 3261

Warnings: No, besides me trying to write flirting with no experience. No beta.

Part 2

----

The first day Rooster stumbles into your bakery, it is mostly an accident.

After one too many rounds at the Hard Deck, the Daggers decide it was a good idea to walk the town, explore since they didn’t have the chance last time. As they pass by your shop, a cute little corner bakery, adorned with soft yellows and greens, plants lining the shelves inside, (a ‘closed’ sign on the door), Payback decides he just can’t resist the stuffed croissants left in the showcase.

It’s quite shocking to have a grown man burst through your doors when you’re cleaning up.

You freeze, eyes wide, towel in hand as you were wiping down the counter. The man, dressed in a Navy uniform, stumbles towards your showcase and another man comes through your doors, chasing after him.

“Rooster! Rooster, look at these, they look so good,” the first man practically shouts.

You make eye contact with the second man, who’s tall and has the most silly, but somehow attractive mustache you’ve ever seen on a man. A blush rises to your cheeks when he glances you over and you can’t help but look away, heart leaping into your throat from how intensely his hazel eyes burn into you.

A smirk pulls at Rooster’s lips when you look down and fidget with the towel in your hands. You’re cute. Really cute. You’re wearing a cottagey little apron, with flour splashed on your cheeks, making your blush even more apparent. If he weren’t just a little tipsy, he would apologize and drag Payback out of there right away. But he is, and he’s getting better at this whole taking action thing.

“Sorry for the interruption, sweetheart-” Your face goes even darker, which makes his smirk pull a little wider, “-my friend just-”

“Rooster, we have to get some!” The first man grabs onto him, and the tall man, Rooster, laughs. It’s one of those full chest laughs, and you can’t help but notice how his eyes crinkle with amusement.

“She’s closed, man!”

“But-”

“He can have them,” you squeak softly, finally finding your voice.

Rooster glances at you, brow perking. You sound just as flustered as you look, but your voice is like a chime of bells to his ears. It suits you, he thinks warmly.

“I was um, I was going to throw them out anyway.” You duck your head and shuffle to the case, too aware of his eyes on you. You keep yourself busy by grabbing a bag and filling it with what’s left of your meat and cheese croissants, offering them quickly to the men.

“You’re too good to us, sweetheart.”

His fingers brush your skin as he gently takes the bag from you, and you take in a sharp breath, pulling away. Your heart is beating fast. Is it supposed to beat that fast? You look up at him again, only to see that his pleased smirk is back, and now your heart’s stopped. This can’t be healthy for you.

“The name’s Bradley, by the way,” he hums, and waits.

You nod, just staring at him with wide eyes, until his features curve with amusement and his eyes do that crinkle thing again. Your brow furrows, confusion twisting in your chest, before you realize what he’s waiting for.

“Oh! I’m (Y/n), my name’s (Y/n)!” You rush out and cringe, feeling silly and geez, you must be as red as a tomato. Especially with how his lips settle into a soft smile, one that is far too fond for a stranger.

“(Y/n), huh?” He lets your name roll off his lips, as if tasting it, and you can’t help but like the way it sounds, which doesn’t help with the whole blush situation. “That’s a beautiful name, but I think I still like sweetheart.”

“Well, that, that’s um, that’s okay, I guess,” you stutter, wishing for nothing more than to just disappear into the back because is he flirting with you? It sure feels like he’s flirting with you. And you have no clue how to respond.

Rooster, Bradley you correct yourself, laughs again, and begins dragging his friend back towards the door. You peek up at him, just one last time, and he dares to pause to send you a wink and there goes your heart again!

“Night, sweetheart. I’ll see you tomorrow!”

You give him a tiny wave, not knowing what else to do. The little bell over the door chimes as he joins his friends back outside. They all jump into chatter, and you watch curiously as the man grins and says something that makes the whole group whistle and holler. All eyes shift towards you, and this time you do skitter into the back. You press your back to the wall, blood roaring in your ears as the sound of their cheering fades away. It’s only when it’s completely quiet again that you release the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

And that’s when his words fully register.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

You cover your face, a ridiculously big smile pulling at your lips. You shouldn’t feel so excited. He might not even show up, considering he was definitely a little drunk, but what if he does? You hope he does. You really hope he does. Your heart might give up, but that’s okay. Maybe he could resuscitate you.

You slap your cheeks, laughing embarrassedly at your own thoughts. It’s like you’re in high school again! He’s just a guy. A very handsome Navy guy with a stupidly charming attitude and gorgeous eyes…oh boy.

---

The second time Bradley comes into your bakery, it’s exactly the next day, just like he said.

The door chimes as you duck down to fill the case with your fresh-baked coffee cake, so you don’t see the customer when you offer your normal greeting, “Hello! Welcome to Flying Delights, how can I help y-”

All your words escape you when you stand back up and find Bradley standing on the other side of the case, looking so put together, and charming, and smiling right at you.

“Morning, sweetheart.” His voice is soft, with just enough of a rough edge to give away how early it is.

“I um, I didn’t actually uh, think you’d come,” you stutter, brushing your already flour coated hands on your apron. His eyes flicker down, and you blush, feeling just a little silly in the frilly apron. “They seemed like a good, good idea, for the um, the aesthetics,” you try to explain, but blush when he just smiles amusedly, “You didn’t need to know that.”

“I definitely think they were a good idea,” he hums, and you really wish you could cover your face to hide from the way his eyes trail back up to meet yours, “Though you’d look just as cute without it.”

“What can I get you?” You squeak, setting your gaze stubbornly on the showcase, as if that will stop your face from going up in flames.

Rooster chuckles softly, the spark of something fond starting in his chest as he watches you shuffle your feet, face positively red. He hasn’t had this much fun flirting with someone, ever. And you’re just as cute as he thought you were the night before, all doe eyes and a little short, especially compared to him. He could probably bench press you if he wanted, the idea of which makes his smile go even wider.

“I’ll take a dozen of those stuffed pastries,” he finally concedes, just when it looks like you’re about to dart into the back if he didn’t, “Payback raved about them all night, so I figured they must be amazing.”

“Payback?” You glance at him curiously, quickly going to the pastries when you find him still looking at you, his hazel eyes just a little squinted with mirth in a way that makes him look so young and so kis- Nope!

“That’s my friend who I pulled out of here last night, his call sign.”

Oh, that makes sense. They’re aviators. You’ve had a few of them come through here, though usually they disappear after a while. The thought makes you pause as you grab the fourth pastry, something heavy settling in your chest. Bradley will probably only be here for a little while too.

“Your um, your call name is Rooster?” You wager a soft guess, remembering the man calling him that several times the night before.

“You remember.” Something warm flushes through Bradley’s chest.

“Why Rooster?”

You have never felt this driven to ask so many questions, but the curiosity over this man is consuming you. Maybe it’s the Hawaiin shirt, or the mustache, or how he seems to be placing his undivided attention on you, but you want to know more, even if it means you’ll get a fever from how warm you feel.

“Kind of an ode to my old man,” Bradley explains, voice going soft, and you stop to look at him, not shying away from the contact this time as you feel like you’ve hit on something very important. “His call sign was Goose, I thought I’d kind of carry it on.”

“That’s really sweet.”

Bradley smiles, though it’s notably sadder than the ones you’ve seen before. Before you can stop yourself, in a moment of bravery, you reach over the counter to touch his hand. Rooster looks down, heart squeezing when he notices just how small your hands look compared to his. He quickly adds it to the list of things he already likes about you.

“Anyways,” he coughs and practically shrugs off the weight that suddenly came over him, not wanting to drown the mood. “I hope these pastries are as good as Payback made them sound. I need a reason other than thinking you're adorable to keep coming by. I’ll find one regardless, but this would be a good one.”

And you’re blushing again.

“Well, I uh, I really hope you like them,” you mumble and hold the box out to him.

Bradley brushes your hand as he takes the box, just like the night before, and you know it can’t be an accident. This time, his touch leaves behind little tingles on your fingertips and you curl them shut, hoping to hold on to the feeling.

“How much do I owe you, sweetheart?”

“Nothing if-” You take a deep breath, gathering every ounce of courage in your bones. “-if you promise to come back tomorrow and, and try my beignets. They’re um, they’re my favorites.”

Rooster’s eyes widen in surprise before settling into happy crescents, his smile soft, “You have a deal, (Y/n).”

Your heart races. “Yah?”

“I promise on my wings, sweetheart.”

“Then I guess, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, Bradley.”

You offer him the most hesitant but breathtaking smile he’s ever seen before swiftly disappearing into the back. Bradley stays standing at the counter with the stupidest smile on his face as he looks down at the box in his hands. Distractedly popping his aviators on, he practically struts out of the bakery, carrying the box like a trophy. This trip was definitely a victory after all.

You watch him go from around the corner, face practically glowing.

You’re really, really looking forward to tomorrow now.

----

And he keeps his promise.

For the next week, you see Bradley practically every day, sometimes more than that. Every morning he comes in and orders a surplus of whatever you recommend, with a heaping load of flirting that leaves your head spinning the rest of the day. Sometimes he even comes in later in the evening, when things have slowed down, and you spend a couple minutes between customers sitting at a table, sipping coffee and sharing stories and laughing. He has this incredible ability to make you laugh and make each day feel like something new, like everything you’ve been looking for your whole life.

And now, Rooster shows up every morning with boundless amounts of pastries for the Daggers, which doesn’t go unnoticed.

“So, do we get to meet this new little girlfriend of yours?” Hangman quips one day as he plucks a glazed donut from the box Rooster drops at the front of the class.

“Nope.” Rooster smiles smugly to himself. He likes the sound of that, them calling you his girlfriend.

“Oh come on! I just want to give my compliments to the chef.”

“You are never meeting her, Bagman,” he huffs with a laugh and slumps into his seat, “I don’t want any of you scaring her away.”

“Didn’t know you had a thing for the timid ones, Rooster,” Phoenix hums, though her focus is more on which donut she wants.

“She’s not timid, just��easily flustered.” He grins, remembering all the shades of red your face turns when he tries to flirt with you. Recently, you’ve even gotten him back a few times, though you can hardly get it out without turning into a flustered mess anyway.

“I vote we go to this place and meet her without Rooster,” Fanboy calls, earning a scowl from the aviator, “Come on, we gotta make sure you’re good enough for her, cause I have my doubts.”

“Yah?” Rooster leans back in his seat and crosses his arms over his chest with an amused glint in his eyes, “What makes you say that?”

“Well, if her baking is all a reflection of her, she is waaaay out of your league, man.”

There’s a chorus of agreement, and Bradley honestly can’t argue, though he does think to give Fanboy a painful ribbing later. He knows you’re too good for him. He knows it with every fiber of his being when you smile at him. And yet, you save those smiles just for him.

“You guys are not allowed to meet her without me there,” he says finitely, shaking his head as Maverick comes marching into the room.

Safe to say, the Daggers hardly listen to anyone, given the opportunity.

----

They last a week before the curiosity becomes too much.

“Ummm, can I, can I help you?” You peer nervously over the case at the small group of uniform-dressed airmen and woman now standing in your bakery. You recognize them as Rooster’s friends, or the people he was with that night at least.

“You’re the baker, right?” One of the men, a taller guy with blond hair and a sketchy smile, asks.

“I, I guess?” You pat at your apron, not sure what to say or what to do.

“We just wanted to come meet the girl Rooster hasn’t stopped talking about,” the woman says and elbows the man in the side when he opens his mouth again. “Make sure he’s treating you right.”

“Oh.” Your cheeks go warm. “Um, Bradley, he, he talks about me?”

The one man you recognize, Payback, gives you a toothy grin, “It’s hard to get him to talk about anything else.”

“Oh.” You want to knock your head against the wall, unable to think of anything else to say. It’s like your brain has just stopped processing, leaving you to just flounder with this new information.

Rooster talks about you. He thinks about you outside of your playful encounters here in the safety of your bakery. A swarm of butterflies unleashes in your chest, your heart getting lost among them. That has to mean something, right?

“He was right, you get pretty flustered,” the short man comments, “And I was right too, you are way out of his league.”

“Huh?” You look at them, wide-eyed, face as dark as the cherry tarts you were stocking.

“There’s no way Bradshaw pulls someone like her,” the tall man chuckles.

“That’s not nice,” you frown, suddenly feeling the need to defend the man, especially since he’s not here, “Bradley’s been nothing but kind to me. He’s so sweet, and he’s funny, and han-handsome, and, and I really really like him!”

You freeze, covering your mouth. Looking up at the group, you find all of them smiling at you, all happy despite how mortified you feel. You just said that. You just said that in front of all of Bradley’s friends. Oh no. It’s not like you said love, but it feels like you might as well have. Now they’re going to tell him and he’ll think you’re crazy and then you won’t see him again.

The door bell chimes.

“You guys never listen to me, do you?”

It’s like the red sea parting, the way the group all step aside to reveal Bradley standing at the door. Your eyes meet and you’re stuck. He’s not wearing his usual. Not the Hawaiian shirt. Not his uniform. Instead, Rooster is dressed in slacks and a dull, dark blue button-up, the sleeves rolled just high enough to show off his arms, which are crossed over his chest. He looks…hot. And you’re so happy you are still covering your mouth, because you’re pretty sure you’re drooling just a little bit.

“Looking spiffy there, Bradshaw,” the blond grins, unphased, “Dressed to impress?”

“Yup, but not for you,” Rooster drawls before tilting his chin at you, “I’m here for her."

“Well, we know when we’re unwanted,” Fanboy chuffs, and the group makes their way out around Rooster.

“Apparently you don’t,” Rooster calls after them, but the smile on his lips takes any bite out of his tone.

Once they’re gone, the aviator turns back to you. He saunters up to the counter, hands slipping into his pockets when he stops right across from you. You’re still staring. You can’t stop staring. And he notices, if the smirk on his face tells you anything.

“So, you really really like me, huh?”

For once, your pallor goes absolutely stark as all the blood drains from your face. He heard.

“Um, well, I just uh-” Not a single coherent thought passes from your lips, and with each passing moment, his smirk grows wider and wider.

“Hey, don’t worry, sweetheart-” He reaches over, thumb softly brushing your cheek and you immediately fall quiet. “I really really like you too.”

Oh, you’re going to melt. You’re going to melt right here, whether it be from his words, or his touch, or the warmth brimming in his eyes. All of it has your heart racing against your ribs, so loud he can probably hear it.

“So um, why, why are you here, tonight?” You ask in all but a whisper.

“Well, before those idiots showed up, I was going to ask you out on a date,” he hums.

“And now?” You perk up, hopeful and scared all at once.

“Now, I still want to take you out, but I think I want to kiss you first.”

There’s no fixing what that does to your heart, that’s for sure.

Rooster glances around, making sure there’s no one in the bakery before a mischievous glint takes over his eyes. You watch, brow furrowing as he props his hands on the counter, and suddenly, in a blink, the man is sliding over the counter and standing right next to you. So close, you can feel the warmth coming off his body. So close you can feel his warm breath on your face.

“What do you say, sweetheart?” He asks, fingers gently slipping around your waist as he leans down, nose practically touching yours. “Can I kiss you?”

It takes a second, but when you find your voice, you gasp out a soft, “Yes.”

And he does. His lips meet yours and he’s smiling and you’re smiling and it’s perfect.

---

Part 2

#bradley bradsaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #rooster #reader #reader insert #x reader #top gun maverick #flirting

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kasagia · 6 months

Text

Innocent

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/General Kirigan/The Darkling x fem! heartrender! reader Summary: You're not like the other Grishas. It took you some time to master your power, but you're still unsure of your control over it. That's why it scares you when you're chosen for a special mission in Fjerda. Luckily your general cares about all his people... or at least about you... actually way too much, but you're not going to complain at all. Requested by: @dreampissybaby I hope you like it! 😊💙🖤 Warning(s): the reader is unsure of herself; the reader does not want to kill (but is ultimately forced to for Aleks); blood; mentions of murder; sharing body heat, Aleks comforts the reader; Words count: 5,7 k ~•♤♤♤•~ Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~

The time has come. Your first mission.

You spent years in the Little Palace training, going to classes with other heartrenders, practicing under the supervision of Baghra and Botkin. And you had potential. You were the most powerful of all the heartrenders in the Little Palace...

There was only one 'problem' with you.

You didn't kill. Nor control your powers as you should.

You were supposed to be a healer. This is what you always wanted as soon as your Grishas powers as Corporalki manifested. But due to fate and the fact that there was a greater demand for heartenders in the Second Army than for healers, you became someone you did not want to be. You were supposed to take lives, not heal or save them, and you never really came to terms with that.

Not that anyone asked for your opinion. Certainly not Baghra, although she was one of the few who noticed that the problem with mastering your powers was in your head and not due to lack of control or powerlessness. Which didn't mean she didn't give you a hard time at every training session you had. You would rather have Botkin's training than spend your time in that's hag's hut.

That's why you laughed at Fedyor when he told you that he chose you as a replacement for Ivan (who was unexpectedly sent on another mission) as an additional heartrender for their secret mission in Fjerda.

"Very funny. Be careful, you start to adopt Ivan's sense of humor." you say, walking with him towards your rooms after sparring together. However, you start to get a little worried when he doesn't respond to your taunt. "Saints, Fedyor, it was a joke, right?"

"You have to go on your first mission someday. Besides, it will be an easy and simple task. We'll do some spying and go home. A few weeks and you'll be back in the Little Palace, and I promise I'll watch over you."

"Have you lost your mind?! I will get stressed, reveal my powers, and the Fjerdans will skin us faster than you can eat sweets from the palace kitchen." you lament, imagining all the worst-case scenarios.

"Nothing will happen. Besides, general is coming too. With him, no Fjerdans or Drüskells will attack us." you freeze at his words, realising how much worse your situation suddenly is with this one statement.

"What?!" you ask, but Fedyor has already disappeared into his and Ivan's room.

You start to get even more nervous. Since you had relatively completed the most important parts of your training, you were often at either Fedyor's or Ivan's side, 'improving' your skills and getting used to your new role in Little Palace.

This also meant often being near General Kirigan's side. Who was dangerously becoming more and more curious about you (at least that was what Fedyor was telling you in great secrecy.)

And his unexpected interest in your abilities only grew when Ivan blurted out to him that Baghra was also training you to be a healer, not only a heartrender. You don't know if this little act of mercy by the old witch was to help you overcome the internal conflict inside you since you put on the red-black kefta of a heartrender or if it was another one of the woman's ways of ruining others' lives.

Anyway, one day you walked into Kirigan's war room behind Ivan and the Black General's dark eyes, and instead of being glued to the maps and reports in front of him as usual, they were focused only on you. A shiver ran through you as you felt his piercing gaze on you. He seemed to be assessing your capabilities based on the rumours that Ivan and his men had been feeding him. You knew that he was judging how useful you could be to him. You held his gaze for a moment before looking down at the maps on the table, hiding slightly behind Ivan as he began to give him the most important information from the camp closest to the fold.

Since then, you've been seeing him more and more. Be it on your way back from Baghra's hut to the palace, in the library, or even late at night in the gardens or other parts of the Little Palace when you never expect him to appear.

He was always polite and nice. He spoke to you in such a gentle and calm tone, so different from the way he spoke to other Grishas, that it took you a moment to adjust to the soft side he was giving you. You didn't expect that the Darkling would ever be understanding of your insecure, shy nature or try to help you control your powers and come to terms with them by giving you small advice and even giving you accessories from Materialki, which allowed you to feel more confident while using your little science and controlling others hearts, bodies, and minds.

But that didn't matter anymore. Any sympathy or hope he had for you and your powers would end in the coming days when he saw that you were actually a nobody and were only wasting your power, which someone else could better use than you.

You might as well start preparing to be sent across the fold to Western Ravka and certain death at the hands of the volcras.

With trembling hands, you tied your small bag to the saddle of your horse. Fedyor, Zoya, Inferni, and Tidemaker, whose names you didn't know, were also preparing their horses to leave.

You were about to leave the Little Palace in a few minutes. The only person missing was General Kirigan.

Which made you very happy. You had trouble tying that damned bundle so it wouldn't fly off your horse's back. You weren't going to ask anyone for help and show how weak and hopeless you were in the group from the very beginning. You won't be defeated by something like this. If you were going to embarrass yourself, at least in a fight… or at least not before you set out.

But as always, you must have been unlucky.

"What are you doing here?" the general's question didn't make you the only one to freeze. The rest of your companions also stopped what they were doing and now looked at you with interest while you were trying to calm down your beating heart and respond to the Darkling. You turn to him and hold your little bundle of belongings that you failed to tie to your horse behind your back, so he can't see it.

"Fedyor thought I would be suitable for this task and appointed me as a second heartrender, sir." you reply without looking him in the eyes.

"He did?" he asks unemotionally, turning his gaze to your friend. You swallow nervously, waiting for his next words.

"Yes, General. Y/N is doing better and better. It's time to test her beyond the walls of the Little Palace, so she can use her power in a more beneficial way." Fedyor responds as your main "mentor". If you were brave enough to raise your head, you would surely give him a grateful look for the confidence with which he assured the general of your readiness.

"Well then." The general nods. You see him send a stern look at the rest of the Grishas, who are still staring. They immediately go back to their preparations.

You mentally curse as the horseboy leaves the general's horse next to yours. You try your best to ignore him as you continue to tie the damned bundle with trembling hands to your horse. And at the same time, you try to reject the uncertainty and doubts that began to grow even more intensely in you after the general's question.

"I don't see you being particularly excited about your first mission." the general's remark made you turn your head towards him. You shivered as soon as you realised his piercing gaze was directed straight at you. "Nervous?"

"A little." you admit, glad he's not a heartrender and can't hear your heart beating madly. You're about to have a heart attack here... if you don't first make a fool of yourself and cry from helplessness in front of the general. You were so pathetic...

You are brought out of your dark thoughts by the sudden presence of someone behind you. The general's warm, large hands gently take your bundle with your things from your hands and tie it to the horse's side. And if you didn't know better, you'd think he was extending the moment on purpose, just to keep you pressed against his chest, embraced by his arms, a little longer.

"You don't have to." he whispers, responding to your earlier words, and pulls away from you as if nothing had happened. He went to finish his preparations for the road himself, leaving you with the feeling of his warm breath on the back of your neck.

You get goosebumps and feel your cheeks heat up. Your hands tingle in the place where the general's hands were on them a moment ago. And your traitorous mind imagines what it would be like to feel his touch entirely somewhere else.

You shake your head and get on your horse, praying to the saints to help you survive this journey with dignity. Or at least that you'll come back alive. After all, you should keep your expectations low.

Surprisingly, you managed to survive the first week without any relative disasters. It was more than you could expect from yourself. Things may not have gone as you expected, but at least you all managed to ride safely through Ravka to the border with Fjerdans.

But every day you got closer to the border, your fear grew more and more.

You set up camp in the forest, each following your established routine. The General and Fedyor went out scouting, exploring the surrounding areas, when the rest of you were setting up a small camp and trying to hide it from human eyes as much as you could.

You were feeding and watering the horses when you suddenly heard a heartbeat next to you. You didn't even try to explain to yourself how you knew or when exactly you started to recognise General Kirigan's heartbeat. It just happened over time. And you didn't have the courage to admit to yourself that it meant something more.

The general took one apple and gave it to his black stallion, tenderly stroking its muzzle. You couldn't hide your small smile at how gentle he was with his horse (whose name was, ironically, Nightfall).

The black bastard even had his mane braided by him. Not that you watched closely as his hands braided it for the whole 6 minutes before Fedyor noticed and started teasing you about how your heart would go into failure from pumping blood so fast. You had never considered being a horse, but in that moment...

"Anything funny, Captain?" he asks, and if you hadn't learned over the course of this week the difference in the tone of his voice when he was teasing, you would probably have died of fear there.

"Nothing, General." you reply with a smirk, laughing in your head at your own ridiculousness and the stupid attraction you had for him. "How long do we have to be in Fjerda?"

"Until we get what we came here for. But I think it will take us two weeks at most. The Little Palace can't stay unattended for long."

You nod, partially satisfied with his answer. But you can't shake that unsettling feeling that something bad will definitely happen by then. Either you ruin the entire mission or you die miserably at Fjerdans' hands, revealing your powers in enemy territory.

"What's wrong?" His voice breaks you out of your thoughts better than the hand he suddenly wraps around yours. After thinking about it for a while, his touch shouldn't be that familiar to you.

"Nothing, General. I was lost in thought." you lie, trying to hide your insecurities and fear by looking down at your hands because you know he can read people like an open book.

"Don't insult my intelligence. I won't be convinced by such a flimsy excuse, and you definitely have better, more persuading answers." he takes a step towards you and gently grabs your chin, forcing you to look into his piercing, dark brown eyes. "What's the matter?"

"I..." you stutter as you get lost in his eyes, which are studying you so intently, as if the answer to his questions were written in your eyes.

And for a moment, you want to tell him.

You want to say that you are afraid of your powers and that you don't know if you will be able to control them when you are in a critical situation and help others. That you don't know if you'll ever get used to the role you've been thrust into. That you don't belong, and even his soothing presence isn't worth the stress, anxiety, and uncertainty you're going through every day. That you want to be someone completely different, but you know that you can't be a brat and throw away an opportunity that thousands of Grishas in your place would gratefully accept.

But you can't show him that you're broken...

"Y/N. Talk to me." he says firmly.Worry and concern are obviously written on his face, and it irritates you that you are unaware of what's causing it. That you don't know why he even cares to notice, let alone ask you what's bothering you.

"It's nothing serious. You shouldn't worry about me. I'm perfectly fine, sir." you say it emotionlessly and move away from him. You turn your back at him and start to comb your horse's mane.

But he doesn't give up. He places a hand on your shoulder and holds it in a tight grip, turning you back to face him.

"Something's clearly bothering you. You're going to tell me this now and here. This is no longer a question, Captain." if possible, his eyes will become even darker. But he's not the only one who's starting to get mad. Unlike him, you can't keep your emotions bottled up inside you so well.

"Why do you even care?! I'm just a captain, another one of your heartrenders; you shouldn't care about me at all!" you shout at him, shrugging his hand off your shoulder. Ivan would have a heart attack if he saw you talk with the general.

But Kirigan also seems to forget that you should be more respectful towards him... or maybe he's relieved that you're not as afraid of him as everyone else, and this new revelation is refreshing for him.

"It's not up to you to judge what I should care about. Even a blind person could see that you've been behaving strangely for a week and that something is tormenting you. Your hands tremble more often, you are more silent and paler, you eat less, your eyes no longer shine like they used to when Fedyor teases you, dark circles start to appear under your eyes, and every night I hear you rolling over next to me on your sleeping place. So you are going to tell me now what's wrong, so I can fix it."

His long speech leaves you stunned. You didn't realise that he noticed things like that or that he watched you closely enough to find a difference in your behavior. And what bothered you most was the reason why the Black General knew you so well.

And you probably would have crumbled in pieces there in front of him and poured out all your insecurities and fears on him if the sudden crunch of branches hadn't caught your attention.

You didn't even have time to blink before you were behind the general. He holds your arm with one hand, making sure you stay behind him so he can shield you from any danger. And in the back of your mind, despite how enchanted you were by his closeness, the thought occurs that you should be the one protecting him...

Then he threw his dagger in the direction the sound came from. After a while, a painful groan echoed through the clearing.

"Fedyor?!" you ask and run out from behind the general when you recognise your friend's voice. You disappear behind the trees, finding the heartrender, who was wearing a regular cloak (you had to drop your keftas since you were getting closer to Fjerdans), leaning against a tree and holding his arm where the dagger was embedded. "What the hell?! You scared us!"

"Well, you're not the one with the dagger stuck in you. It was starting to get dark; the others sent me to get you, since we are practically on Fjerdans' territory."

You nod and help him sit on the ground. After a while, the general appears behind you. You see him blush awkwardly, realising who his dagger hit.

"My apologies, Fedyor. You shouldn't have sneaked up on us like that, though."

You take the opportunity to have your back turned to him and roll your eyes at him. While Fedyor is busy answering him, you quickly take the dagger out of him. He hisses in pain and gives you an offended look.

"What? Would you rather I count to three?" you ask sarcastically, pulling back his coat and lifting up his shirt to place your hands on his wound. Blood sticks to your fingers, staining the sleeves of your shirt.

"The last time you did that, you took the arrow out of me before you could count to two." he grumbles as you begin to heal him, the wound tingling unpleasantly as it closes up.

"I don't remember you complaining when I let you eat my chocolate cookies later. At least I wasn't the first to get hurt; you should be proud of me as my mentor." you don't miss the general's quiet chuckle behind you as you taunt with your friend.

"Come on, veteran." he pats Fedyor on his health shoulder. "Let's get back to camp before they send a whole search party after us, shall we?" he asks, his dark irises trained on you, watching as you let go of Fedyor's arm, which is fully healed now.

The general extends his hand towards you and helps you up. He doesn't shy away from grabbing your bloody hand; he holds it even tighter, making sure it doesn't slip away from his grip. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Fedyor give you a significant look. You roll your eyes at him.

"Here." the general says, and he hands you his black handkerchief to wipe the blood from you. But before you can take it from him, he catches your hands in his and wipes the red liquid from your hands himself. "Allow me." he whispers, looking into your eyes. Blushing, you realise that Fedyor is long gone from sight, leaving the two of you alone once again.

"Thank you." you clear your throat, feeling his fingers gently wipe the blood from your hands. And you feel ashamed, admitting to yourself that this simple touch makes you shiver.

"You should change that shirt when we come back."

You look at your shirt and see that it's stained with Fedyor's blood. You wrinkled your nose, knowing this was your last shirt. You will have to stay in it until you reach a village where you can buy a new one.

"I'll be fine," you say, trying to change the subject. You don't want to seem even weaker than you already are in his eyes.

The general frowns but says nothing more as you return to camp. And if he thought you didn't notice that he was still holding your hand and keeping you close to him as he walked lightly in front of you, he was sorely mistaken. You were glad that no one was around to hear your heartbeat and that his fingers avoided the place on your wrist where he could feel your racing pulse.

If anyone else notices that there is blood on your shirt, they don't comment on it. You go through your evening chores, and finally, after hours of driving and being on your feet, you lie down.

You put your small travel bag under your head and are about to go to sleep when suddenly you hear the rustle of fabric falling next to you.

You open your eyes and stare in surprise at the black shirt that is clearly an intruder. A shiver runs through you as you feel someone's burning gaze on you. You look up and see the general sitting a few steps away from you, watching you carefully.

If the delicate, skin-friendly material or colour of the clothes didn't give you a clue as to who they might belong to, then the look in those hypnotising dark eyes that didn't leave you until you took the clothes in your hands was an eloquent suggestion of the shirt's owner.

And after the intoxicating smell that engulfed you as you changed in a secluded place, you were even more overwhelmed by this unexpected gesture, knowing full well that you shouldn't recognise his scent that easily. Or wanting it to stay with you for a long time.

You walk back to camp and ignore the smirk Fedyor gives you as he stands guard by the fire. You lie down in your place and pull the blanket tighter over you, wrapped in a cocoon, with the general's scent wafting around you.

You shiver, feeling the chill of the night despite it. You roll the oversized sleeves of the Kirigan's shirt around your hands, limiting the air from reaching your skin. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the others move closer to each other, taking advantage of the warmth of each other's bodies.

You sigh, realising that it will be a few hours before you can do the same to Fedyor once he stands off his watch. Now you had to endure the cold that was starting to sting your cheeks and slowly seep into your uncovered skin.

You roll from side to side a few times, trying to find the best position to limit your heat loss, until you are stopped by strong arms that suddenly wrap around your stomach and press you against the hard and warm wall. You blush as you realise from the pounding heartbeat behind you that you're pressing against SOMEONE'S chest.

"It's a cold night." he whispers, his warm breath on the back of your neck making you shiver. "Do you mind, milaya?"

You shake your head slowly. You knew that right now you would do anything what he would ask of you. And you were both terrified and excited about that damn exhilarating closeness with him as he was sharing his warmth with you.

"Thank you, general." you whisper into the night, afraid to turn and look at his face lit only by the flames of the fire and the light of the stars, because you know that if you did, you would be lost for good.

You close your eyes, trying to protect yourself a little from your obvious feelings for him—the man you will never truly have.

"Call me Aleksander." he whispers in your ear, making you shiver. He takes this as a sign that you're cold and ends up pressing you closer to him, so that you feel every inch of his body touching you.

He could have anyone. And you knew both yourself and his habits too well to pull the wool over your eyes that you could ever be someone more to him... but that didn't mean you didn't enjoy this momentary attention he was giving you.

You relax and lean into him more as he buries his nose in your hair and falls asleep. His rhythmic heartbeat and breathing, his scent that immediately makes you feel safe and protected, and the warmth that floats around the two of you curled up against each other, lull you to sleep.

After all, it was a cold night. And General, contrary to all the rumours you've heard, turned out to be very warm... at least when he held you protectively close to his chest.

Fedyor watches the two of you with a mischievous smirk, knowing full well that he'll be teasing you with this the next day. He already knew what he would write to Genya and Ivan in his next letters.

Your informant did a good job. He perfectly determined the location of the hidden cellar in the Fjerdans' forest, where their soldiers' base was.

It took you several days to prepare. You were supposed to break in, steal the necessary plans and reports, and get out of there before anyone noticed you. Of course, everything went to hell as fast as it was possible.

At one point, you scattered, each trying to find a way out on your own, when one of the soldiers detected Inferni, who was with you and was using his powers to warm himself up.

You didn't know what happened to him in the end. Or with Aleksander, the rest of the group.

You ran forward, towards the exit you remembered, avoiding all heartbeats along the way.

You're walking down corridor after corridor, corner after corner, when suddenly someone grabs your elbow and pulls you towards him, keeping a hand over your mouth to block out any sound from you. You struggle for a moment until you hear a quiet whisper that haunts you both at night and in your dreams:

"It's me, milaya." you freeze in place at the sound of his soothing whisper in your ear. You turn around, wanting to make sure your mind isn't playing any tricks on you, and sigh in relief when you see Aleksander's concerned face in front of you.

"Where's the rest?" you ask, swallowing, trying to calm yourself down and maintain an appearance of composure in front of him. Even though your heart was now beating like crazy with fear.

"Fedyor and Zoya are outside. I'm not sure about the others." he says, taking your elbow and pushing you to the side of the hall so that you're more shielded from anyone's view. You frown, processing his words while he looks around to see if you can leave your hiding place and continue on your way to the exit.

"You came back for me?" you ask, trying to catch his gaze to read something in his impenetrable eyes.

You see the gears stop in his head, all thoughts of your escape and safety being forgotten as he stares at you, speechless.

You've never seen him like this. No words, no wise comment or answer. He just stood there and stared at you. A blush slowly took over his cheeks, and after hearing his heartbeat quicken, you had never been happier that he had technically forced you to qualify as a heartrender.

"Aleksander?" you whisper questioningly, waiting for any word from him that will either confirm your suspicions and make your wildest dreams come true or make him break your heart more than the most powerful heartrender could ever do.

You hold your breath when, after a moment of internal struggle that is going on inside him for some reason, he takes a step towards you and confidently cups your cheek with his hand.

"Y/N... I... For a very long time... I haven't met someone like you. I've never wanted to meet again. I've lost so many... But you... you make me question everything I promised myself a long time ago."

You see pain and longing in his eyes. You have no idea what he's been through or why he feels the way he does now, but you are sure of one thing. And you are ready to promise him this one thing, regardless of any consequences.

"You won't lose me." you whisper, looking into his teary eyes. He leans forward and rests his forehead against yours, closing his eyes and inhaling your scent. You shiver as your noses touch, brushing gently.

You open your eyes only to see Fjerdan behind him, pointing a gun at you two. You are both without your keftas, but you know that the Fjerdans know how the Darkling looks like and can recognise him.

You act automatically. You push Aleksander away and link your arms, stopping the man's heart in front of you before he can even put his finger on the trigger of his gun. The body falls to the ground with a thud, and a deafening, terrifying silence reigns in the corridor. The smell of blood irritates your nostrils.

You lower your hands shakily, only to realise that you've done more than stop his heart. The weight of the organ that ripped from Fjerdan's chest and flew straight into your hand weighs on you more than your growing guilt. Your heart falls out of your hands and onto the floor, and you still feel the blood staining your fingers.

You killed someone. You actually killed someone...

The cold permeates your body. You shiver uncontrollably as tears fill your eyes, and you stare at the dead body in shock until Aleksander stands in front of you. He cups your cheeks and pulls you closer to him, making you rest your head on his chest.

"Shhh... It's fine, milaya. We are safe, you saved us both." he whispers into your ear, hugging you even tighter as he presses you against his chest with one arm, and his other hand strokes your hair to calm you down.

"I… killed… I…" you can't stand it. You fall apart completely in his warm embrace, his coat perfectly soaking up both the blood you shed for him and the tears flowing from your eyes that you simply can't stop anymore.

The realisation comes to him with a delay, and you feel him freeze when he hears your words. He is wise. You know that he realises that this was your first... and that you never wanted to do this, and that this was what you feared most when going on this mission with them.

If possible, you sob and tremble even more, aware that soon his soothing embrace will disappear, that he will throw you out of his inner circle, and that you can start preparing to be sent out across the fold and to West Ravka since you have proven to be so useless to him.

But, much to your surprise, he didn't pull away. He didn't make any malicious remarks, and he didn't threaten to throw you out of the Second Army, as he often did in the worst-case scenarios your head could imagine.

Instead, he pulls you as close to him as possible and places a tender kiss on your forehead. You tremble as his hands cup your cheeks and gently brush away your tears before he presses his soft lips there.

"Shhh… I have you, lapushka." he whispers while kissing off your tears. "You did a good thing. He didn't deserve to live, moya milaya. He would have hurt us if you hadn't reacted first. And I gave you my word; this is the last time you have to do something like this." he says, pressing his lips to your tample in a promise.

He tangles his hand in your hair and presses your head against his shoulder. You bury your head between his neck and shoulder as he holds you tightly against him and strokes your back while cradling you.

You cry into him until you run out of tears. He is with you until the very end, silently comforting you with a warm hug and a gentle touch of his lips on various parts of your face.

He places one last kiss on your forehead and cups your cheek in his hand, lovingly wiping the tears from your cheek with his thumb. You instinctively lean into his touch and stand as if hypnotised, staring into his dark irises that look at you with so much affection and care like no one has ever done before.

You don't know who leans in first, you or him, or who is the one who kissed the other first. All you can feel, all you can think about, and all your world is limited to now is him and his soft lips caressing yours as gently as if you were the most fragile thing in the world. As if he was afraid that in any moment you would disappear.

At some point, his kisses became more intense. He tangles his hand in your hair and pins you to the wall, his hand making sure you don't hit your head against the stone wall as he doesn't let your lips leave his for the slightest moment.

He breaks the kiss and pulls away to look at you. You feel your cheeks turn bright red and your lips swollen from his kiss. You clear your throat and shyly look away from him as he watches you intensively.

"We… we should go… the rest are probably waiting for us…" you stutter. He lets out a soft laugh and leans in to steal another quick kiss from you.

"As you wish, milaya. This way." he says, and he grabs your hand, pulling you close to him. His shadows surround the two of you as he wraps his arm protectively around your waist and leads you outside.

When you walk with him with your hands together, you feel complete. Calm. And glancing at your general as he removes any Fjerdans from your path and surrounds the two of you in a protective shield of his shadows, you know that if you went back in time, you would do everything exactly the same.

You wouldn't change anything if it meant you would ultimately end up in the arms of the Dark General. He was worth evereything... maybe even losing your innocence too. Though something told you that he liked taking care of his little corporalki.

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vivienne-charm · 5 months

Text

One Piece Hcs

When you use a cheesy pickup line

Luffy

⋆ "luffy, you don't need to use conqueror's haki. you've already conquered my heart."

⋆ "huh?"

⋆ he tilts his head in confusion. "why would i ever try and use conqueror's haki on you? wait you said I've already conquered your heart. but ive never used the haki on your heart"

⋆ you just chuckle and leave him be, and he spends the entire day thinking about what you said.

⋆ this dumbass makes it a mission to solve your little "riddle". he goes as far as to ask you for hints.

⋆ "hey, what did you mean by the thing you said earlier? c'mon at least give me a hint...you can't just leave me puzzled like this"

⋆ at last, he resorts to asking the other crewmates about what you said, and they won't give a straight answer either. it makes him think everyone is in on this inside joke.

⋆ "please let me in on this talk...im dying to know what it is about"

⋆ in the end, he had a dramatic lightbulb moment and understood what you meant by the cheesy pickup line. he kept stealing glances of you throughout the rest of the day without you noticing.

Zoro

⋆ "zoro, i may not be a swordsman, but i'm willing to fight for your love"

⋆ it takes him time to process this, but when he finally does, he smiles wide at you, a very proud smile

⋆ "oh, that's what i like to hear"

⋆ he randomly repeats this to himself throughout the day and chuckles on his own

⋆ he is in such a good mood after hearing that out of you, it's as if you just colored his grayscale life

⋆ he did not once think of it as a cheesy or bad pick up line in any way, he took pride and respected you for the matter that you're willing to fight for his love

Sanji

⋆ "sanji, do you really need an oven? you're hot enough already."

⋆ "i- huhh...?"

⋆ congratulations, you just made this man lag irl

⋆ naturally, his instinctive reaction is getting on his knees and screaming that you're actually much more hotter than him

⋆ BUT, the pickup line is so bad that he actually leans over to you, sighs, and says "what am i to ever do with you?"

⋆ you dramatically shrug in response, gesturing that what you said was the truth and there is no arguing it

⋆ that night, noises of passion could be heard from kitchen as sanji passionately cooked you your favorite meal so you guys can have a candle lit dinner later

⋆ again, noises of passion could be heard from inside a room in the ship as Brook passionately sung Bink's Sake....but you wouldn't pay it any mind because you're in a romantic dinner date with the person you're in love with < 3

Bonus

Trafalgar Law

⋆ "law, i want you to take me to your room and leave me in shambles."

⋆ law is dumbfounded

⋆ after a very long, awkward pause, he'll just say "get out"

Sabo

⋆ "you'd got me hot and bothered even before you got your devil fruit power"

⋆ he giggles at your poor attempt at flirting with him. if he was drinking something, he'd for sure spit it because of laughter

⋆ "stop fooling around now, we've got work to do"

#one piece #luffy #sabo #zoro #sanji #pick up lines #one piece x reader #flirting

132 notes · View notes

spotsspeciall · 11 months

Text

Just a small crush pt.1

(This is not proof read lol)

This is just something I made up in my mind because there is LACKING some Schlatt content. But I made this as close to me as possible when I first made the story up, but I tried making it as vague as possible in writing so you can enjoy it as yourself! The only things are that Reader is not from LA and has never been there before, is AFAB and uses she/her pronouns. But that's about it! Hope you enjoy it <3

Btw: I'm aware Schlatt was not at the Streamer Awards but then again, this is all fiction!!

PART 2 PART 3 PART 4

Pairing: Jschlatt x Fem!Reader

Word count: 4.1K

Warnings: Swearing, Drinking

Summary: You were an up and coming streamer and you had just made some nice new friends that invited you to LA so you could be at The Streamer Awards. You might meet some more nice people and perhaps a person you might have a crush on, who is also attending the streamer awards and might be in LA for some chuckle week business.

masterlist

The stream was going just as good as any other day. You were grinding the new tracks in Mario Kart 8 deluxe, and you were getting trash talked by your fanbase! it was all good and fun, and you were having fun getting beat by Peach on every track. After a few more tries you finally won and just chilled, talking to chat the rest of the stream.

After ending stream, It didn’t take long until you got a message on discord from the one and only Ludwig Ahgren. You had interacted before when you joined the Beerio kart tournament and you were mutuals with the yard boys on social media, as well as QTCinderella. The message read “You free to gimme a call?” You didn’t reply, you just pressed the call button with your heart already in your throat. It didn’t take long for him to answer, and he screamed hello into the mic.

"Hi Ludwig!” you replied chuckling.

“Hey Y/N! I wanted to talk to you about the streamer awards!”

“Oh Yeah, that's coming up pretty soon!” You said not knowing why he wanted to talk about that. You didn’t really feel like you were a big enough streamer to be at the streamer awards. Even though you had a solid fanbase you still felt pretty small compared to everyone else at the event.

“Yeah, and I have QT here to share some info about it!”

“Hi Y/N! The awards are happening on the 11th of March and you are nominated for the Rising star award! So we would love for you to attend if you can.” You could hear QT smiling as she was saying all of this. You were completely shocked and you couldn’t get a single word out.

“Y/N?” You could hear Ludwig say and snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Umm.. Yes.. I-I can’t believe this, Holy shit! Omg i would love to be there!” You almost screamed at the end.

You could hear them both laughing and you smiled to yourself.

“But there is a small problem though. You guys both know I’m not the biggest streamer so I’m not really rich to put it like that. And with paying for plane tickets which are soooo expensive, I don’t know how much of this I can afford.” You said with sadness in your voice.

You didn’t hear an immediate response from them so you started to get worried. Trying to think of something else so say, but you were interrupted by Ludwig asking

“What part of the trip is difficult to afford?”

“Don’t you dare try to spend money on me! It would make me feel horrible if you did, I mean, I know you can afford it without making even a dent in your money, but I want to be able to care for myself.” You didn’t like the feeling you got when someone spent a lot of money on you because you couldn’t afford something. It made you feel weak and you felt like you owed the money back. So you just told Ludwig straight out that you didn’t want him to spend money on you.

“Fine I promise I won’t. But just tell me what you can’t afford and maybe we could find a different solution.”

“Okay, thank you. I think the plane tickets are ok, and the pocket money I need, so my problem is paying for a hotel or an Airbnb.”

"That's easy! Just stay here with us!” Ludwig almost screamed it into the mic, and you could hear QT agreeing in the background as she said “Yeah, we have a spare bedroom that we use for content sometimes, but we’ll just clean it out so you can use it!”

“You would really do that for me? I feel like that would be too much to ask”

Ludwig chimed in “Of course we would do that for you! We would all love to have you here, and if this makes it possible for you to be here, then yes of course!”

“I mean, it does make it possible.” you stated as you could hear them cheering a little.

“Since it’s also your first time here, you are welcome to stay awhile, so you can do as much as possible when you’re here!” Ludwig said, and you could tell he really meant everything he said, and that this would mean you could actually take this trip, and be at the streamer awards!

"Really? I wouldn’t want to stay too long though! So why don’t you decide that for me?” You chuckle.

“How about two weeks?”

“HOLY SHIT YES!! I'M ALREADY SO EXCITED!!”

You thanked them so many times and you exchanged some more information as you ordered your plane tickets before you hung up. You could not stop smiling to yourself as you went to grab some food so you could relax after steam and eventually go to bed. It was difficult trying to fall asleep with all the excitement you were feeling.

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It was the morning of your plane ride, it was two days before the streamer awards, and it was early as all hell in the morning. You had quite the plane ride ahead of you. Boarding the plane you texted QT that you were on the plane and when you would land, and all you received back were a bunch of heart emojis. You smiled to yourself as you decided to update some social media, and you posted a story on Insta that you were soon in LA. You then heard the pilot speak over the speakers, so you put your phone on airplane mode and got ready for the flight.

Finally landing in LA, you looked outside at the shining sun and warm weather. You were so happy to finally be here. After getting your luggage you headed for the exit, ready to find an Uber or something to get you to the house, but looking up from your phone you saw Slime standing there just staring right back at you. You laughed and went up to him.

“Why are you here?” you asked with a laugh.

“Why do you think? “To pick you up!”

“But no one said you would be here, I was just going to get an Uber or something.”

“Yeah I was the only one available to pick you up and an Uber from here to the house costs a fortune” he Chuckled.

Smiling back you said “Well thank you for saving me that money then.”

“No problem, need me to help with your bag?”

“No that's alright, I got it” You said following him towards the car.

The car ride was quite nice, you listened to some nice music and talked a little until you were at the house. Before you could grab your bag, Slime was already on his way into the house with your bag in hand. So you just sprinted after him and followed him in the door. He just beelined to the stairs and showed you to the room. It was nice, it looked cute and cozy. And you could tell that was all because of QT. So you made a mental note to thank her later.

After putting your things down you went back downstairs. You heard laughter coming from a room that you suspected to be the living room, so you followed the voices, and were met with Aiden, Nick, Slime and QT. You walked in and said hi to everyone, they all shouted hi back, except for QT. She stood up and went right over to hug you and told you how excited she was that you were finally here. You smiled and thanked her for letting you stay here and making your room look so nice. After some small talk you asked where Ludwig was, and they all answered that he was Live. Slime did something on his phone and said that you could just go in there if you wanted to. But you said that you didn’t want to interrupt him in the middle of the stream. But Slime turned his phone to you so you could see Ludwig just sitting in his chair talking to chat. As slime gave you an idea to just sneak in and surprise him a little bit. Which you thought was a great idea as you turned around and ran to his room. Standing outside his door, you quietly opened the door and sneaked as cartoonishly as you could towards him. Almost standing right beside him, you could see his chat all spam your twitch name.

Which he noticed, and replied “Yeah, she’s supposed to get here today, I don’t remember when though.”

Perfect opportunity to reply “Im already here”

He spun around to look at you and you could see how scared he was as you just started to uncontrollably laugh. He screamed your name and told you in a sad tone how much you scared him. Which just made you laugh harder.

After your laughter had died down, he told you to pull up a chair and sit down. But you told him you didn’t want to interrupt if he had something to do.

“Stop being so nice all the time and just sit down!” He yelled a little.

It made you chuckle, but you did as he said and pulled out a chair to sit beside him.

He clapped his hands together after you had sat down.

"Alright!” What do you say about a classic tik tok time?” He turned to you to wait for your answer.

“Yeah that would be fun!!” You smiled back.

“Okay, so I think we should make it a little more fun with some alcohol involved? You laugh, you take a shot, what do you say?”

“OH HELL YES”

He laughed and told his chat to hang around for a few minutes while he went to get the alcohol. He muted the mic and turned cam off. He stood up and leaned over to you to give you a big hug saying how happy he was that you were here, but also scolding you on how bad you scared him, which made you laugh again. After the hug he walked over to a little shelf thing where he had a bunch of alcohol neatly placed on the shelf. He picked up a bottle of Fireball and showed it to you with his eyebrows raised in suggestion.

"Let's. Fucking. GO” You smiled back at him.

“This is kind of really good timing, a little pre game before the party tonight!” He said on his way back to his chair.

“Oh shit, there’s a party tonight?”

“Nobody told you?” You shook your head at him “Well, yeah a bunch of people are coming. Almost every streamer in the area plus a few other people. We just wanted a get together before the awards. And now you can meet everyone in person first”

"Nice!" Now I'm excited!” You thought long and hard on how you would ask if Schlatt would be at the party. After watching his content for a while, you had developed a small crush on him (a BIG crush, but not that you would admit that to yourself). So you just asked.

“Will Ted be there? I'm so excited to finally meet him” Trying to make a nice segue, and not seem desperate.

“Yeah, he’s bringing his girlfriend so she can beat me in beer pong again” he laughed to himself. And then you quickly asked

“Will Schlatt come too?” You could already feel your cheeks heating up as you tried not to think about it.

Ludwig turned to look at you and bursted out laughing as you felt your cheeks get even hotter and more red.

“You don’t think I noticed how fast you asked about Schlatt, not to mention how red you are right now” he said while laughing. You playfully smacked his shoulder and tried your best to defend yourself, but you could only stutter trying to find words.

“So you have a crush on Schlatt?” He asked.

“I.. Um.. Maybe just a small one” You stuttered out still blushing like crazy and he started to laugh even more.

“That is so cute.” he said, smiling at you.

“I just think he is really funny” “and kind of hot” you whispered at the end.

“Yeah he said he would come” You smiled. “So.. Are you going to try anything with him?” He smirked at you,

“No! I just really want to meet him.” You lied to both yourself and Ludwig, and he could clearly tell it was a lie.

“Okay, but cool down your face before I turn the cam back on”

You giggled and rested your cold hands on your cheeks while breathing to signal that you were ready. So Ludwig turned the cam and mic back on and started talking to chat while trying to find a good video to watch. But all you could focus on were all the butterflies flying around in your stomach.

It ended up being quite a lot of shots, and you were both in a really good mood. But it wasn’t that long until people were arriving. So Ludwig ended the stream and you told him you needed to take a quick shower and get ready before the party. He just nodded to you and you left.

After a good shower, you did your makeup and put on your best party outfit, ready to meet some people.

Walking down to the living room, you found everyone and a few new people. You introduced yourself and said hi to the new people. You were just walking around chatting with people as you saw Ted and his girlfriend Shea walk into the kitchen that you were now in. Your heart started beating fast thinking that Schlatt might be right behind them. But after they had gone over to some people you saw that no one had come in after them. You shook it off and headed towards them to introduce yourself. They were both so kind, and you couldn’t believe that they knew who you were.

After some time chatting. Ludwig had called everyone to the kitchen and he started to fill a bunch of shot glasses with some hard liquor. While doing that, he said that they had made a little party tradition that people pair in two, and link their arms together to take a shot. He said it was like a nice friendly thing that they had kept going for a while and wanted everyone to participate. So everyone found a partner while you went to grab a shot. standing back, you realized everyone had found a partner, and you were the odd person out. Jokingly you called out to ludwig

“So you didn’t think to count the amount of people” You laughed. Ludwig looked at you with his arm already linked with QT.

Before he could even reply, the door opened and Schlatt walked through. The door was behind you and you didn’t even notice that anyone walked through, until you could see Ludwig smirk at you as he said

"Perfect!" Schlatt will take a shot with you!”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks as you looked behind you and were met with his brown eyes looking down at you. He broke the stare you were holding as he took a step forward and filled a shot for himself as he said

“Are we still doing this every time?” to which Ludwig screamed yes back at Schlatt which made him chuckle as he turned around to you with a shot in hand.

“Okay great!” “Now everybody link arms” Schlatt bent down and wrapped his arm around yours as you fought hard not to stare at him. “CHEERS '' Ludwig screamed, and everyone started to down their shots. Your eyes snapped back to Schlatts before you downed your shot, feeling the heat of Schlatts stare as you did.

After you both took your shot, Schlatt pulled his arm back, and stood up straight, making you look up at him towering over you. Music started playing and people started chatting.

“I’m Y/N btw”

“Yeah I know who you are, I have really enjoyed your Mario Kart streams” He chuckled at how shy you had become.

Feeling your cheeks heat up again, you tried to distract him by bringing up whatever you could think of.

You just stood there talking for a while until Schlatt said he was going to get a drink, and if you wanted one. You nodded and followed him to the table where all the alcohol was set up. There were so many different bottles of liquor, and you saw everything you needed to make a shitty Long Island ice tea.

“I can make a really shitty Long Island ice tea for us?” you smirked looking up at him. He smiled at you and took a step back to let you do your thing. So you mixed both drinks and handed him one. You watched him take a sip and nod his head.

“This isn’t that bad”

“oh so you're a cocktail kinda man.” You smirked up at him. It made him chuckle.

He nodded his head to the side to signal you to follow him. He led you into the Living room and sat down on the fairly empty couch, you sat down beside him. You made a conscious choice not to sit too close, afraid he would think you were clingy. He started asking you questions about Mario Kart, saying you should play together some day. You kept sitting there just talking for a long time. And by the end of the conversation you were sitting cross legged with your knee resting on his thigh, and his hand resting on your knee. It made your whole body warm with his hand on you.

Ludwig and Nick had been beaten again in a game of beer pong against Shea and Ted, of course Ted barely hitting any cups, and Shea being a raining victor of beer pong. Ludwig wanted to try his luck with someone else and looked around and saw you two sitting awfully close on the couch. He smirked to himself seeing the way you both looked at eachother, and Schlatts body language towards you, which Ludwig had never seen towards another woman before. But he still decided to interrupt.

“Get over here you two!” You both looked over to him standing by the table. “Beer pong time!”

You looked over at Schlatt and he smirked back and stood up.

“Come on” he said as he stretched out his hand for you to take as you stood up from the couch. You smiled and he led you over to the table.

Standing beside each other by the red solo cups, he asked you

“You any good at Beer pong?”

“Pretty decent” you replied with confident smile

“Alright, let’s go” He smiled as he threw the first ball.

He hit the first one, and Ludwig and Nick had to drink. And now it was your turn, another hit. Ludwig and Nick screamed and had to drink again, while Schlatt celebrated.

The game was starting to get a little too close, Lud and Nick had two cups left on their side, you and Schlat had three cups left. It was your turn, and you could win it all if you both hit a cup each. You were throwing first, but you were really starting to feel the effects of the alcohol, you just prayed that your aim was true. You aimed and threw the ball, closing your eyes until you heard Schlatt yell “YES” from beside you. You looked over at him and smiled.

“You can do this, I believe in you Schlatt” you said as he was taking aim.

“Blow on it for good luck?” He asked, presenting you with the ball. You looked him in the eyes and blew softly on the ping pong ball. He turned back and threw the ball and sank it right in the cup. He screamed again and soaked in all the praise he was getting from the small crowd surrounding the game.

He turned back to you, “I think you’re my lucky charm now” It made you blush, lucky for you, Schlatt didn’t notice as he was busy trash talking Lud and Nick.

You felt a hand on your arm, QT was standing there asking you to come with her. She dragged you into the kitchen which had less people in than before. But sitting there were a few of her girlfriends. They were all deep in some gossip as QT pulled you into the group.

“Thank god you’re finally here!” Maya smiled at you.

QT piped in “Yeah we were afraid Schlatt had brainwashed you at this point” You all laughed. You stayed with them for some time, just talking and playing “never have I ever”.

Now you were starting to get pretty drunk, and the girls had all disappeared. You were talked into shotgunning a beer with Slime to see who could do it the fastest. Schlatt had just entered the room when he heard Aiden scream “GO!”. He watched you make the hole in the can and tip it back. He was staring at some of the beer escaping your mouth and running down your throat and disappearing between your breasts. He had to shake himself out of the trance as he watched you lift the can showing that you were already done, while Slime was still going. He looked so defeated when he realized he lost.

The night was coming to an end, and people were heading home. But Schlatt had found you again and you were now sitting in your bed talking about god knows what, like two completely wasted people.

You had laid down on the left side of the bed looking up at the ceiling. Schlatt copied you, and laid down on the right side. You closed your eyes and started humming a familiar song. “After last night” by Silk Sonic. Schlatt turned his head to look at you. You looked like a goddess, laying there with your soft hair flowing everywhere, a soft glow on your face from the low light in the room. And humming a song Schlatt could relate to at this moment.

You opened your mouth to quietly sing the chorus of the song

“Ater last night, I think i’m in love with you

Woke up and I can’t get you out of my head

After last night, I don’t know what to do

When im gon’ see you again”

Schlatt kept staring at you as you finished the song and turned your head to look back at him. You flipped onto your side towards him, and he did the same. You inched a little closer, and Schlatt figured out what you wanted. So he opened his arms and pulled you into his chest.

He was so warm, and he smelled so good. A mixture of alcohol but with an overpowering smell that is just unique to him. It was intoxicating, and you kept taking deep breaths just so you could smell him a little more.

You felt yourself almost falling asleep but manage to mumble out into his neck

“I think it's time to sleep”

He grumbled in response, and went to move away. But you wrapped your arms around him to hold him in place.

“I do have to leave if you want to sleep” He chuckled

Barely even awake you managed to say “No you dont”

“You want me to stay?”

You mumbled out a small “yes”

“Okay, I’ll stay, but we need to get ready for bed first.”

You grumbled as you left his embrace and sat up at the edge of the bed. With your back to him you managed to slide off your clothes and laid back under the covers in only your underwear. When your head hit the pillow you felt the whole room spin until you felt the bed dip beside you. You opened your eyes to see him scooting into the covers in only a pair of boxers. It made a few butterflies flutter around in your stomach. Making you realize that he was actually going to cuddle you to sleep. You would have never imagined that this is where the night would end.

He laid on his side with his arms out, ready for you to curl up into his chest just like moments before. So you did, smelling him just like before. He somehow smelled even better now. And the addition of his warm skin against yours, and hearing his slow heartbeat against your body, lulled you right to sleep. Schlatt smiled to himself as he heard you small snores, and closed his eyes to slowly fall asleep with the feeling of you against his chest.

#jschlatt #jschlatt x reader #schlatt x reader #schlatt #fluff #mutual pining #slowburn #cuddling & snuggling #cuddling #flirting

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blueberrypancakesworld · 1 year

Text

7-Minutes in Heaven with Charlie Walker

warning : fluff , kissing , making out , nervousness , friends to lovers , confident reader , nervous Charlie , trying to make a move , being in a small room , mention of murder , little drinking

Charlie Walker x fem reader

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It was already night when the teenage girl arrived in her car in front of the barn. She heard the loud music through the closed doors of her car. A smile played around her lips as she reached into her small handbag and took out the lipstick. Taking off the cap, the dark red tone revealed itself, which could at least be something for the Stabathon. Almost as if she was drawing blood on her lips. Looking at herself in the small mirror in her car, she put the lipstick back before getting out of her car.

The fresh evening air was cool yet pleasant on her skin. Undoing the leather jacket a little more, she headed towards the barn. A pair of leather trousers clung to her legs, the heeled boots made her look a little taller and under the leather jacket she wore a dark red top with a wide neckline. A perfect outfit for the Stabathon.

On the way, she said hello to a few of her classmates and chatted briefly with them. Before she finally arrived inside and immediately saw the big screen.This evening is going to be more than good she thought and went in search of alcohol. A little to lighten the mood. Moving to the table, she took one of the red plastic cups before reaching for the ladle of alcohol.

Before, at the same moment, another hand wanted to take it too. ,,Oh...hey Y/n please you go first" she heard the slightly nervous but friendly voice of her friend Charlie. A friendly young guy she had been in the film club with. And maybe she had a little thing for Charlie. Cute she thought as she saw him take his hand back and a small smile curl his lips.

She saw his nervousness and how he tried to cover it up. She knew he liked her but unlike Kirby she didn't play with him. Too often she had spent time with him, met him and worked together in the film club. Too often she had flirted with him, too often she had asked him for a date, which he took as a meeting. It was almost cute how he didn't understand her flirting.

But sometimes she wished he would dare to be honest. She put her cup in his hand, making sure her fingers touched his before she smiled and poured him some of the alcohol. ,,Here you go," she said and saw him looking at the cup in his hand, almost astonished. ,,Thank you," he said and hastily took a first sip. ,,No problem," she waved him off and took a cup herself before pouring herself the alcohol.

The drink wasn't too strong, but it didn't have to be. It did what it was supposed to. ,,Come on, I'll show you a good seat," she heard him say before he walked towards the stage and gave her a seat in the front row. ,,You can see everything best from here," he said and watched her sit down with a sigh.

Sliding a little on the chair and pretending to evaluate it, she looked at him scrutinisingly. ,,Yep, that's a good seat," she finally said and saw him smirk. Before she saw his friend Robbie arrive behind Charlie. ,,Hey Y/n is it alright if I interrupt you two lovers and borrow him, the movie is about to start" he said and she saw Charlie looking at his friend with disgust.

But it was nothing new, everyone knew the film club leader had a thing for her. ,,Take him, Charlie, I'll see you," she said, swaying slightly after him before she couldn't help but smile. A few moments later she listened to Charlie and Robbie talking before she offered the former a seat next to her, to which he was almost pushed by his friend. Sitting down next to her, she saw him give her a small ,,Thanks" before his attention turned to the film.

Something she also liked about him was his interest in films. How he could talk for hours about his favourite films, was happy to be listened to and also knew his stuff. He was a true film nerd. She too turned to the staff films and concentrated on them. She knew the films as good as by heart, the usual jumpscares and how the individual victims died.

Only one jumpscare always made her wince - it was like being jinxed. Despite knowing the film, she flinched again when the killer suddenly jumped out of the darkness. Wincing, she unconsciously reached beside her and held onto Charlie's arm for a moment. ,,Sorry, I get scared at this scene every time," she admitted and slowly let go of his arm. But she had felt his touch.

How he had put his own hand on hers for a moment to tell her that everything was alright. ,,No problem," he murmured and gave her a comforting smile. Watching the film, some time passed before the events seemed to come to a head. Ghostface appeared before the sheriff arrived shortly afterwards with the police in tow.

She also made a quick getaway before being reunited with Charlie outside. ,,That was exciting," she said, slightly out of breath after what felt like too much running around and still feeling some anxiety. ,,If you'd like to come, well, we were going to continue the party at Kirby's. Do you want to come too?" he asked her suddenly as more students were walking out around them. Finally a try she thought and was happy. ,,Yeah, sure, I can give you a lift to Kirby's. Come on," she said and took him by the hand before pulling him behind her. She opened his car and got in before she started the car and drove off.

Every now and then she looked over at him. He had his arms crossed and looked uncertainly back and forth between the surroundings, her car and her. ,,Are you cold?" she asked and saw him move his fingers towards the regulator. ,,A little," he murmured and she turned on the heater. ,,Relax, it'll warm up in a minute," she said and smiled at him briefly before focusing on the road again.

The drive didn't take long and soon they had reached Kirby's house. Getting out and walking behind him, they were a little surprised to find the door open, but just walked in. ,,There you two are, huh?" came the confused question from Jill as she expected to see two people instead of apparently just Charlie.

Jill, Kirby, Trevor and Robbie were already gathered around the coffee table and seemed to be waiting for Charlie. ,,I invited her", the brown-haired man said and tried to ignore the knowing looks of his friends. The others made some room and while Robbie and Trevor each sat on one of the chairs, Jill and Kirby moved a little to the side.

Charlie sat down next to Y/n and Robbie handed him a bottle of whiskey, which he declined and took an energy drink from the freezer. Instead, Y/n took the bottle and took a sip.That's strong, she thought as she took the bottle from her lips. ,,Well, now it's getting interesting, let's play seaven minutes in heaven!" Kirby announced happily, and it was a mix of cheering and sighing sounds. They took an empty bottle before spinning it and the game began. And it seemed to go haywire.

First up were Kirby and Robbie, with more of a loud argument going on inside than anything else. Jill and Trevor couldn't have been quieter, though she thought she might have heard a kiss before Jill had gone out. Robbie had a grin on his lips as he came out of the cupboard with Trevor.

Before the bottle landed on Y/n and Charlie. ,,Yay, now it's getting interesting, get it, tiger," cheered Robbie, who was already well drunk. Charlie gave him the middle finger before disappearing into the cupboard with her.

As expected, it was not particularly spacious. She felt that her hair was already touching the ceiling because of her boots. But Charlie also had to get used to the new surroundings. But she could only guess, because she could only see his facial features and appearance dimly. The light coming through the slits in the door was not much but it had to be sufficient. Because of the narrowness, she had automatically tried to make room for herself and leaned one hand against the wall next to his head.

While he tried to make himself as small as possible. He's giving me his space, she thought, and she found his cuteness ever sweeter. ,,I probably shouldn't have worn boots" she tried to lighten the mood and heard the short ,,Yeah, I guess" from Charlie. She had hardly ever seen him this nervous before, but she didn't really feel any different.

She wanted to finally confess something to him, or at least help him confess his feelings for her, but how? Her free hand slid to the zipper on her leather jacket and pulled it down. ,,What are you doing?" he asked immediately and she saw his eyes go to her now visible bosom. The look and the blush on his cheeks was not lost on her. ,,Isn't it a bit warm in here?" she asked innocently and playfully fanned herself.

Almost defeated, he let his gaze slide downwards and played nervously with his fingers. ,,I-you-we-," she heard him say after a moment of sudden silence. I dare you she thought hopefully and came slightly closer to him. But he seemed to fall silent again before she slowly slid her free hand to his. ,,Say it...I'm sure it's something good" she murmured and took his hand in hers.

Slowly, not breaking eye contact, she brought his hand closer and closer to her lips. ,,So...well" he began and almost gasped in surprise as she placed a kiss on the back of his hand and her lips left a slight imprint. ,,Very good...and continue" she praised and kissed each finger as he spoke. ,,W-Well I...since we're here I wanted to...tell you something" he stammered and she felt the slight twitch in his hand as she placed his on her cheek and signalled him to leave it there.

Slowly she let her other hand slide to a strand of his hair. Let it roll back and forth between her fingers. Careful not to break eye contact. ,,So what?" she asked quietly with an encouraging little smile. ,,I-" he began and looked down again, his nervousness seeming to take over. But she took his hand from her cheek and held it gently before stroking his knuckles quietly.

Her other hand released the strand of his hair and moved gently under his chin. Before she practically forced him to lift his gaze again. ,,Just say it," she whispered, and they were only a few centimetres apart. ,,I...love you," he finally managed to say and blushed. But immediately her lips were on his and she wrapped him in a kiss.

She felt him surprise as his hand lightly squeezed hers and his other hand went to her side and held on. He had finally dared. ,,I've loved you too, Charlie, for so long," she admitted as she pulled away, blushing a little herself. A smile was on his lips when he heard this and relief but also pride and joy swung in his gaze.

This time it was he who engaged her in a kiss and even pulled her closer in a moment of determination. It was the best moment of her life. ,,Well, you two, the seven minutes are long gone!" they suddenly heard Kirby shout as the door opened and a barrage of cameras filmed them hastily moving apart. ,,This is going to be a hit right away!" she heard Robbie say and saw Jill smirk. ,,Finally," she heard Trevor mutter and she looked at Charlie, unable to help laughing.

His lips were the same shade of red as hers, competing with his cheeks. ,,Okay guys, that's enough gapping," she playfully reprimanded and promptly closed the door again to hide from the cameras. Before she suddenly heard a giggle from Charlie too. Before he sought her gaze and gave her an affectionate grateful smile before engaging her in another kiss.

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