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pondering-and-wondering · 1 year

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Solar Eclipse Part Four

A Spider-Man Fanfiction

Previous Part

Summary: Peter Parker is your Best Friend and your mom is a nuclear fusion scientist who works closely with Doctor Otto Octavius.

Author’s Note: Here is part four!! I am once again thanking @dreaminrubies for inspiring me to come back to this piece which i love so so so much and she’s the greatest and everyone should go follow her and read her stuff. I know its been a while and I don’t know if anyone is interested still but i wrote it regardless.

Warnings: Death mention, depictions of grief

There were two confirmed dead and several injured on the day of the reaction failure. Rosalie Octavius and your mother were the two deceased.

Time seemed to come to a halt. From the moment it clicked in your head, the moment Peter said “I’m so sorry” nothing had moved forward. Several gift baskets had made their way to your apartment door, and several letters, and sorry texts from aquaintances. But she was dead. There was nothing else to do or say.

Peter’s presence at your apartment increased exponentially. You couldn't help but blame him for your mom, irrational sure, but there was nothing rational about the way she died. He told you he would be right out with her and he wasn't. In all honestly, there were a multitude of people to blame. Doctor Octavius, the entirety of Oscorp, maybe those terrifying actuators held the blame. But they didn't go to your apartment. They didn't apologize every time they saw you. They didn't bring you food and sit at the edge of your bed while you lay there motionless. But Peter did.

So he bore the brunt of the blame.

You couldn't even tell how long it had been since the accident, your waking hours spent staring at the ceiling or sobbing, whatever you had the energy for. You heard keys rattling in the door, the rustling of plastic bags muffled by the wood.

“Hey, I brought you some food my Aunt made. Nothing special but something for you to heat up.”

Peter…the only other person who had keys to this place.

You turned your body over to face the wall, unable to bring yourself to look at him. Who knew you could feel so cold toward Peter? Deep down you hated it, but what else was there to do?

Peter’s footsteps crept closer, getting louder with each step. You heard as he pushed open your door and made his way to the edge of the bed. All you managed a soft sigh as he sat, causing the bed to dip with his weight. His hand crept up to your calf, gently rubbing it.

“ I know you've been kinda silent lately, I don't blame you or anything… I don’t think I would talk to anyone either. But I’m still here, okay? I’m… I’m sorry all of this happened” he whispered. Like clockwork, the apology. If you had the strength maybe you would have accepted it.

“ I wish I had some big important thing to say… I don’t. But I can’t just leave you alone, not now. Hell, I can tell you want me to but that wouldn't be right. Maybe it is my own selfishness but you're not getting rid of me that easy.” You could practically hear the expression on his face. The smallest of smiles, sad but hopeful, and those big brown puppy eyes that had always convinced you to do things you swore you wouldn't. If you looked at him now you would have folded, no doubt in your mind.

But you didn't move. You did not utter a word.

“ I’ll see you around, probably tomorrow if you don’t change the locks on me…you’ll get better, you have to” he whispered, squeezing your calf briefly before standing up. He looked down at you and sighed, feeling pitiful under his gaze. He walked slowly out of your room, leaving the door open a crack before walking out the front door and locking up.

As his steps in the hallway got fainter you felt your heart well up, tears forming in your eyes. You tossed yourself over, laying flat on your back, and hugging yourself tight. Gasping for air, the tears fell out of your eyes and down your cheeks. One hand made its way up to your mouth attempting to stifle the cries you couldn't hold back.

What were you doing? You just lost your mom, and your dad wasn't in the picture to begin with, so pushing away your best friend was next? He’s all you had left and you weren't talking to him. It wasn't his fault, it wasn't your fault. Placing the blame wouldn't bring her back.

You reached over to grab your phone, but you hadn't touched it in ages. Doom scrolling was useless when you already resided in the depths of your mind. The phone barely had a charge left, you chose to ignore that for the time being. With a few brief taps, you called Peter, holding the phone to your ear and taking a deep breath. He picked up the call immediately.

“Hey oh my god you called” he whispered into the phone, you could hear the confusion in his voice as it shook. He paused, no doubt hoping you would say something.

“Come back…please?” you croaked out, your voice hoarse and weak. You panted softly, this being the first time you had spoken in days.

“I’m practically there already, see you soon” he responded. You quickly reached over to hang up, sniffling and rubbing your nose.

He would probably be over in ten, maybe you should try and look alive…somewhat. You crept up from the bed and stretched as big as you could, the blood rushing through your veins and awakening your body. Standing up, you rubbed your eyes and took a deep breath, padding over into the kitchen to see what Peter left you. A chicken noodle soup. Just like he said, it was nothing fancy, but something to have in your stomach.

You would have started to heat up the soup if a familiar rattling at the door didn't interrupt.

Peter opened the door and looked straight at you, his gaze softening as he realized you got out of bed. “Hey…you’re up” he noted, a faint smile on his face.

You nodded and put the soup down, padding over to him and rubbing your eyes. You looked into his eyes and felt the tears welling up again. Before sobbing outright, you wrapped your arms around him and hugged him close. You squeezed him tight and sniffled, his arms slowly making their way around you.

“I’m so sorry” you whispered as you clutched onto his shirt.

“Don’t worry about that right now, there is nothing to be sorry for” he said softly as he rubbed your back.

“ I've been so cold to you, it's not fair…you're all I have Pete” you mumbled, “ It’s still not fair to you or me.”

“Well, I haven't held it against you, okay? Even though I like it when you speak…as long as you're here.”

You held onto him even tighter, letting yourself feel totally embraced in his arms. Who knew where Octavius was, or who was to blame, you had Peter and from there things could be better.

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liebgottsjumpwings · 2 months

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if u haven't received these same ones, ofc: guilt, hate, & hunt for rhona // desire, pain, & mistake for faye !

YURI HIII!!! thank you so much!!! these are very nice to answer! i'm sorry if some of these read more like rambles than coherent text, i am on -10% lung (and brain) power right now and also slightly fever delirious,,,

RHONA

Guilt: What is your OC guilty about? How do they handle their guilt? Do they try to avoid guilt, or do they accept it? She feels guilty about a lot. I swear Rhona is like a dog that is walking with its tail between its legs, but always. One thing she feels guilty about often is all of the small moments where she hesitates up in the air, when she is supposed to tell her pilot (I have put her in Brady's plane) her heading but takes half a second longer than she would like to. That fraction of a second feels like hours in her mind and she eats herself up over it. It was worse in the beginning, it used to take longer for her than it does now, and with time, Brady and her figured out how to work around it. And he didn't judge her, but he did make sure to coach her how to be better, because it was important. And she knew it was. That's why she is so hard on herself now when, in her mind, she makes mistakes. She knows she has a responsibility. She will go over the mission plans over and over, even after a mission. She'll ask Bubbles, Crosby and other navigators how they handled a particular moment during a mission. Despite knowing that she did just fine. I think that is how she deals with guilt, revisiting the moments she feels guilty about and going over how she could've done things differently. Over time, she learns to be more comfortable in her position and worry less. If she makes a genuine mistake or has an off day, her instinct will be to immediately start that pattern of revisiting, but towards the end of the war, she will be less irrational about it!

Hate: What does your OC hate? Why? How do they act towards the object of their hatred? It is hard for Rhona to truly hate anything, or anyone. I feel like she often will keep her opinions mild towards others, even if the thing she has an opinion about makes her feel a lot of feelings. One thing I can imagine her feel some sort of hate towards is when the USAAF makes decisions that everyone knows will be detrimental to the 100th. However, I also feel like Rhona is not the type of person to confront her hate. Rather, she would avoid it. So in this case, she would quietly obey her orders and let it bottle up until cup runneth over!!!!! Healthy? no. The only way she knows how to? Yes. Cup runneth over when she experiences a particularly bad mission that has her grounded from going up in a plane for a while. Not because of a physical injury but because of her mental state. Currently in the process of writing this actually!

Hunt: Who or what is your OC hunted by? A person, a feeling, a past mistake? Is your OC able to let their guard down, or are they constantly alert? Feelings and mistakes! This comes down to the questions about guilt too. Poor Rhona is just so hard on herself, even if she knows she shouldn't be. She really is her own worst enemy. It reminded me a bit of this song, In Dreams by Ben Howard. The song doesnt like... fully fit it but certain bits so and with the way I think like a crazy person (because I am), it is now part of her list of songs, specifically the cursive parts here:

"Always a riddle in the world she said Always a riddle inside my head Always a thing to wonder the way we come to be Oh, it's a big old place for me, yeah, it's a big old world indeed Everyone is killing me and everything conspires"

FAYE

Desire: What's one thing your OC wants more than anything in the world? Are they open with that desire? Why or why not? What would they do to fulfill it? On a personal level? To feel at peace. On a functional level? For this war to fucking end. Which tie into each other I guess. Faye has never felt much at peace ever since she turned into a teenager and after that. It started with a desire to study, which was impossible to do in her small town, in a community that never really had their kids go away for academia. But she was able to! However, the move to New Orleans was chaotic and she never truly settles. Quickly, news of an impending war came and it also threatened her way of life, her studies halted and somehow she found herself recruited into the OSS and moving over to Europe, in the middle of it. It hasn't truly ever been completely calm for Faye. She finds herself looking for those moments of calm quite often, not always successfully. In Rosie, she finds them (<3), but she never verbally makes that known. I think Rosie notices, though, immediately he picks up on it and he's more than happy to be that calm for her.

Pain: What's the worst pain your OC has ever felt? Do they have a high pain tolerance? Faye has an exceptionally high pain tolerance. To the point that if she does outwardly show she is in pain, people around immediately worry because that means it has to be serious. However, she also knows how to hide her pain well. Mainly because she does not want people worrying about her at all. As a kid, this has definitely caused mild viruses to get bad over time because she refused to share with anyone that she was suffering. Later in life, she learned how to take care of illness herself and go to a doctor when she felt like she needed it. When it comes to injuries, she will hide them for as long as she can stretch. The worst pain Faye has ever been in was during her childhood when she had dislocated her shoulder after a nasty fall from a tree. (Speaking from experience, that shit hurts bad.) She is double jointed so that always is a risk, but after that incident, she has been more careful! It actually also is the reason she wasn't let into any combat roles within the OSS or military in general. Can't have her joints be dislocating in crucial moments.

Mistake: What's the worst mistake your OC ever made? What led to them making it? Have they been able to fix it? How have they moved on? I am going to spoil my storyline for her, but that doesn't matter because she is my oc anyway!! I will not go into detail in hopes of ever publishing this in fic-version but!! Faye's biggest mistake ever is cracking under interrogation, which caused her and her resistance group in Mulhouse to be uncovered. Not directly, but definitely because she cracked. No one blames her for it. But it did happen. It happened in such a simple way too, a German policeman saw her take a photo of something, got suspicious and took her in for questioning. Said questioning turned gnarly quick after Faye realized that her interrogator also had a hand in the arrest of one of her friends. This caused her to show more emotion than she would have liked. In turn, this made the occupier grow even more suspicious of her, she got followed and eventually part of that aided them in uncovering their resistance group. (I took light inspiration from experiences my family members have shared with me for this, because historical accuracy!). She hasn't been able to fix it and not long after it happened, she had to flee. This gnaws at her continuously, she has made a promise to herself and to her friends in the resistance that she will make things right. Which she will! In what way will be a surprise tehee. (also because I still need to figure out the logistics of my plan)

#long post #oc: rhona #oc: faye #GAH!!

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og-danny-dorito · 2 years

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hello I hope you are well 🌹 I don't know if the orders are open but I can order a request of how the Turks would react when they find out that their partner the reader is a vampire?

they are! sorry about the late response i kind of forgot that tumblr had an ask box feature ^^; i'll only do 3 since i cant do all of them at once, but i can do more later if you'd like. hope you enjoy!

𝚃𝚞𝚛𝚔𝚜 𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚅𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚃𝚆: HUGE TW FOR BLOOD, brief suggestive content, slut shaming reno (affectionate)

𝚁𝚎𝚗𝚘:

"Haha, very funny Y/n. Vampires aren't real, everyone knows that."

doesn't beleive you at first 💀

i mean why would he?? NO ONE thinks vampires exist. thats kind of the reason you've been able to survive for so long

you expected this response though,, and after a few minutes of convincing him that you're being dead fucking serious- you are a vampire -he seems to get a little... pale.

as in he looks genuinely fucking terrified

thing is- he's actually had a fear of vampires since he was a little kid??

im being so serious he was like,, genuinely terrified of them as a kid and hasn't ever fully gotten over it

i mean- its not a completely irrational fear to have, but how is he supposed to say that to you?? that he's terrified of your species and thinks you're all human mosquitos who prey on people in the night?

you almost regret telling him considering you've seen the look on his face a million times with others you've told, but it doesn't make seeing it on him any easier

part of the reason you loved him so much was because he made you feel normal for once in your life- like you belonged

and you almost feel like you've fucked that up for yourself as he looks at you, fears obviously turning in his head to try and formulate what to say

but before you can get any words out in apology he speaks up, taking in a deep breath beforehand to steady himself and looking you dead in the eye

"If... if you're being serious right now, then this doesn't change anything."

huh??

you blink at him a few times and he seems nervous when you tilt your head, a silent queue to elaborate

"It doesn't change how I feel about you. I still love you. Plus, at least you're not a werewolf. I hate dogs."

you both laugh at his comment and the air lightens up a little bit, and it seems that he was telling the truth about it not changing how he feels about you

i mean he's a little more conscious about what might be safe for you and what not be (like doing outside right before the sun goes down, making sure you have a good supply of food even though it makes him a little squeamish, stuff like that) but overal he treats you the same

expect mosquito or vampire jokes though. he already made shitty jokes but with your vampirism in mind he's going to be a fucking menace 💀💀💀

would probably be okay with you feeding on him but he might enjoy it a little TOO much and might not hide that he wants you to feed on him very well (dudes walking around with his shirt half open all the time but he gets sluttier trust me)

𝚃𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚐:

"..."

HELP HE DOESN'T KNOW WHAT TO SAY

for a second he thinks you're just messing with him and he's not catching it but he's pretty sure you're being serious and he's just ???

i mean it is kind of a weird situation, and why else would you pull him aside to talk privately when you knew he was working??

hes always been really perspective, but he's also very logical and so he passed the signs you were trying to hide off as something else

but now that you've told him and you dont look like you're joking in the sligtes, the dots start to connect

it explains why you hated going out during the day so much, and why when you DID go out you wore insane amounts of sunscreen and always wore covering clothing (he thought you just had sensitive skin tbh)

it explains why you barely every touched the food the two of you sat down to eat together. and why you didn't seem to like silver things that much. and why crucifixes bothered you. and why-

you get the idea

anyway he kinda just stares at you for a few seconds like he's just taking a second to process the information, but after a little bit (a lot a bit) of mutual silence he eventually speaks up and leans back in his chair

"Well, I'm not happy that you didn't tell me sooner."

you sigh in relief even though you'd probably have to explain why you felt like it was unsafe int he first place later, but for now you just felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders

tseng is already very attentive to your needs, and he approaches this new revelation like any sort of new information and treats it systematically since its how he deals with p much everything in his life

makes sure that you have an ample supply of food since he knows hunting can be a struggle sometimes, and he doesn't want you to catch any diseases (if vampires can even do that)

i dont think he'd be as open as reno to the idea, but that's mainly cause he's a bit nervous about the whole process and doesn't know the intricacies of it

he trusts you though, so he doesn't have a problem with you feeding on him when you're in a bind or need a little snack here and there

𝙴𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚊:

"Oh, for real?"

she doesn't even bat an eye

yeah she believes you since she knows you'd never lie to her even though it is really outlandish

i mean, she says crazy shit all the time and you believe her so who is she to judge? that and she already knew

yeah even though she's kinda airheaded sometimes doesn't mean she's stupid. you're not very good at hiding your vampirism babe (her words exactly)

i mean she already had a vibe from the beginning anyway. you have that aura about you, you know??

she doesn't have a problem with it though. if anything she's actually really excited about it!!

if you've been alive for a long time she'd love to hear about all the things you might've seen and experienced and asks a lot of questions about it since she's only ever watched movies about it

if you have a darker style she makes an effort to match it so you don't feel as alienated considering she would think that you'd already feel kind of set apart from others because of your vampirism and wants to make sure you feel included

if your style is lighter or somewhere in the middle then that's usually where she falls, so it won't be out of the ordinary (she already makes you wear matching outfits with her so its not much of a difference LOL)

she's cool with it though!! i think she'd be WAY too enthusiastic about letting you feed on her since she's curious about it but would get grossed out by the sight of her own blood LMAO

[ 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐! 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚜 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 :) ]

#rose anon #final fantasy vii #final fantasy #final fantasy headcanon #final fantasy imagines #reno headcanon #reno imagine #tseng headcanon #tseng imagine #elena headcanon #elena imagine #ffvii reno #ffvii tseng #ffvii elena #ffvii headcanon #ffvii imagine

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watchinglikeafangirl · 2 years

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Mirror theory

I think it's common sense now that Porsche is a mirror. He gives what he takes.

social

It's obviously a social filter and comes from the deep desire to please people. I myself am a people-pleaser, so whenever someone makes a joke, I usually don't find funny but I know they do, I laugh. This way people either think of you as someone nice or just don't have any opinion about you. Both can't hurt you. Because when people don't like you, it hurts. Porsche hates Kinn for being all cold in Episode 5 for example. He shared himself and Kinn pretends it didn't happen. It's not just cold, it's betrayal. And I think Porsche in some way grieves over the fact its over. Because when you act like a mirror, smile when they do and be all serious when they are, you understand the other - at least you feel like you do. But it hurts when they do something different. You can't make it better by socializing because they don't want to.

Porsche wants everyone around him to be okay and acting like a mirror is a way of keeping people in control. He knows them and immediatly talks it out when things are wrong, because he has to know. He and Porchay have some heart-to-heart talks and not everyone addresses matters that easily. In general, Porsche doesn't hold back but he just goes far enough to not annoy anyone. He knows the line that's not to be crossed.

giving up power

When someone gives you enough power over them, you don't balance stuff out like you always do. We can see this happening once Porsche is more involved and emotionally intimate with Kinn. He can act irrational too and we see him not responding to sentences like "take care" because he enjoys it. It's something Kinn does without question and Porsche doesn't have to reply because it's no give and take between them any more. He willingly gives up his control over things. He doesn't need to keep Kinn in control because he trusts him and if you just reflect what the other already feels, your relationship can't work out. Truth and especially true self is what makes all of this so special and with Kinn, Porsche's social anxiety of never acting out of the usual vanishes. There are no boundaries and if he doesn't want to laugh, then he doesn't.

That doesn't mean Porsche was never a mirror around Kinn. The forest changed them but nearly the whole time it was like "I helped you, you help me" and "I told you my story, you tell me yours".

reflection

The last scene in episode 7 is really symbolic for Porsche because his reflection is only seen up front for once. Most of the time, we see his back. Like he turned his back on his priciples. Because he is damn mad and Kinn acts way out of line. Here, it's not the priority to please Kinn, it's the priority to set some boundaries. And you can see how much Porsche hates to be shouted at because he is very sensitive. He wants to please others but right now his opposite is mad at him. The worst thing that can happen for him. But he stands up to Kinn now, he can't let Kinn treat him with no respect, so he stops being a people-pleaser thus is only seen from behind. He overcomes his principles and Kinn can see his true colors. He can see how hurt Porsche is but also how Porsche responds in time of stress and insecurity. This scene shows a lot more about Porsche than about Kinn. Kinn's reflection is his front because we already know this side of him, Porsche already knew him. But Porsche himself is going through some personal growth here.

When Porsche is pressed against the mirror, he is up close again. This time because Kinn apologizes and it's now Porsche's turn to do the same aka accept it. He has to act like a mirror again in order to be fair.

Then with the knowledg of him letting go and the sex combined, it's a really powerful and meaningful scene. Porsche lets go of control, grants Kinn power over him. His reflection is not seen by him and we can't really see the reflection of Kinn either because he is letting go too. They are not the ones they knew before and show a different side of themselves. It's not the image one can expect to see in the mirror because they change in a way the mirror can't reflect back.

#kinnporsche #kinnporsche the seri #it's literally tuesday #and i'm still here #in the tags

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mytherapyjournel · 3 months

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entry 1

Have you ever sat there one day and asked yourself "what the fuck did I do in my past life to deserve this" because there is no way that one person deserves to be handed this much bullshit in one life? I have done my fair share of therapy sessions, been told to journal in all of them. Have I ever done it? Yeah. Did it work? No. Probably my fault for not taking it seriously enough, but let's give it a go then hey.

I think I feel more anger for the things that has happened to me from a young child to an adult at the ripe old age of 27 (almost 27 I should say, there's still 6 days) I hate the look of pity in peoples eyes when I'm anxious in a conversation and accidentally overshare a memory that my brain has numbed myself into thinking is normal. "I'm not a sob story, I'm a success" I tell them, as if that makes what I just said any better.

My therapist told me it's normal to think about the life I could have had if my dad wasn't an alcoholic, the thing is, I know what it would have been because I had it when he was sober. He was a great dad, stern but fair. He taught us right from wrong, how to be a strong woman and stand up for yourself from a very young age, this is all until he had a few too many beers and spirits to wash away his own trauma. Unless you grew up with an alcoholic parent its very hard relate to the feeling of having two dads; The great, supportive, incredible father every child deserves and the angry, violent, and irrational father no child should ever have to witness. It's almost like whiplash with how quickly they can turn into a different person but you learn to adapt. When I'm asked in job interviews "how do you adapt to be successful no matter what situation is thrown at you" a part of me wants to scream "I HAVE BEEN DOING THIS SINCE I WAS BORN" but I just give a bland, stock standard answer that usually gets them nodding their heads.

Anger. I held so much anger towards my mother for staying with my father, I now know it isn't fair. I have a vivid memory of my mother crying on the bathroom floor on the phone to one of her friends apologising for my dads behaviour after a day at the races (he got drunk and accused the friends husband of stealing his money, but he put the money away and forgot about it). She was sobbing, begging her friend to not tell anyone. This was the first time I as an 8 year old asking my mother to leave my father for her own happiness, but it would take another 9 years for her to build the courage and succeed at it. My mother was always the strict parent, she wanted her daughters to be raised right with high morals and self respect, until she left my father and I was allowed to go any party I wanted, drink alcohol underage, stay out all night and not worry about school. I was once again experiencing whiplash, but you tell a 15 year old they can do whatever they want and they think they have reached heaven.

I did many things I am not proud of in my younger years, I put myself into risky situations that I have no idea how I survived. I blamed my mum for this for a very long time, I would to think myself "why would she let me do that, she's meant to be a parent". Really I was just young and immature and couldn't hold myself accountable. I remember bringing this up to my therapist once and she turned to me and said "she did the best she could with what was provided to her, she had to choose between being mother or to survive and if she didn't survive, you wouldn't have a mother who is alive" Harsh? Yes. Correct? Absolutely. I hugged my mother tight that day, I thanked her for everything she has done to keep a roof over my head, food on the table and most importantly a safe place to sleep every night.

This when I knew that if I was actually going to be a success story, it would be up to myself.

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guineapigwitch · 8 months

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I just watched the Barbie movie with my dad and he doesn't fucking understand it. No the first parts aren't hating on men and saying women can't succeed because of them, its simply acknowledging what it feels like to be a woman and that there are systematic challenges. I have been catcalled by a 13 year old boy i hadn't met until that point, I have been not exactly SA'd but certainly made uncomfortable by various men, My older brother has SA'd me, my little brother has tried to forcibly kiss me he's less than 10. and no the last bit isn't two wrongs don't make a right, the kens had a hostile takeover of Barbieland the barbies were just learning how to make things equal, barbie apologized to ken, they talked things out and made up. she heard him out and learned she was in the wrong. it wasn't meant as a complete conclusion for barbieland where all the problems were suddenly solved, its the start of a solution. and i'm so fucking tired. i used to wrestle, while drilling with one of the boys i kicked him, it wasn't meant to be malicious, it was just done out of instinct because he had me on the ground and his hand near my crotch. and this was with one of the guys i trusted. I felt and still feel fundamentally broken by what my brothers have done. i still feel like i partialy can't trust one of my best friends and am so scared he'll wind up betraying me, i know its irrational yet i can't get it out of my head and i want to tell him but im scared that will just expedite the process and leave both of us hurt. ive told him things you probably couldn't waterboard out of me, yet that fucking fear that if they can betray me who can't? is still fucking there. and i can't say any of it to my parents i knew this before i watched the movie and i'll know it long after ive forgotten its plot.

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azucanela · 4 years

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pls some headcanons for Bakugou, Shinsou and Shoto when the reader kisses them infront of everyone. Thank you :)

KISSING THEM IN FRONT OF EVERYONE

FT. BAKUGOU KATSUKI, SHINSOU HITSOHI TODOROKI SHOUTO

SUMMARY: in which you and the boys kiss in public, and now everyone is screaming. oh no.

WORD COUNT: 2.1k

WARNING: season three spoliers, insecurities, arguments,

A/N: i wanted to do scenarios bc this was too good ugh thank YOU for requesting this

BAKUGO KATSUKI

lol so HAVE FUN WITH THIS ONE

you two are already dating but you keep it on the down low because its Katsuki and he’s like ew people knowing i have feelings other than anger? ew ew ew

you’re fine with it, but if he thinks its bothering you he’ll talk to you about it and smother you with affection, but he’ll act like its nothing

wants to rub it in his faces that you are his girlfriend, yes, but also he doesn’t want the teasing that comes with it. he knows for a fact that all his friends would bully him because he is SOFT FOR YOUUU and he’s also just a generally private person

you respect this and like it’s fine woo yeah okay it’s nice being the only one that sees the side of him that’s all soft and cute and affectionate

i can’t really see the two of you slipping up unless it’s influenced by a lot of emotions

where do these emotions come from? you might ask

his kidnapping.

you were a mess, but it was lowkey, real lowkey. and unlike the others you do not support trying to save katsuki on their own, trusting the heroes to do their job is the way to go.

so you don’t go with them. the next time you see your lovely boyfriend is when he’s giving kirishima money

so naturally, consumed by all the fear and panic you felt while he was gone, you kiss him!

and he kisses you back and its really soft and oh-

what a shame the whOLE CLASS IS THERE

everyone is really confused, but they’re happy because they think that the two of you finally addressed the clear tension between the two of you, all it took was a lil kidnapping

except then you pull apart, completely disregarding them, your hands on his face, “baby are you okay?”

you don’t call someone you haven’t kissed before baby

then it clicks for the rest of the class

SCREAMS.

so much yelling

oh god have fun with that one

the bakusquad is yelling at him for not telling him, the dekusquad is scolding you for not telling them, there’s just a lot of questionable things

katsuki will get SO FLUSTERED because this is not what we wanted

at least the attention was off of his kidnapping now

maybe that was your goal idk 👀

Katsuki really wished everyone would shut up about his kidnapping, it wasn’t something he wanted to think about right now, or ever if he was honest. So much had happened in the past few days and he was still struggling to process all of it, and the disgustingly warm welcome he’d received to the dorms wasn’t helping. It was gross.

He’d shoved cash into Kirishima’s hand, rolling his eyes when he began to panic at the possibility that he’d taken it from Denki, shutting down the idea almost immediately.

And then he saw her.

Y/N was shoving past everyone and heading to him, and he couldn’t help the relief he felt when he saw her. Katsuki was grateful she hadn’t been involved in the little escape plan Deku had hatched out, but seeing her made him feel calmer than even as she practically tackled him, hands coming to his cheeks as she brought him into a kiss.

Their lips molded together perfectly, his hands coming to her sides and holding her like he’d never let go as her hands gripped his face rather harshly. It would have been the perfect moment, had the rest of his class not been there.

Y/N seemed to disregard this as she pulled apart, eyes darting across his figure as his brows furrowed at her clear distress. “Calm down, idiot.” His cheeks are turning red as he realizes that everyone is staring, but he can’t help but focus his attention on her as he feels a wave of relaxation wash over him as she begins to run her hands all over him in search of injuries.

“Oh, I’m sorry, for caring about your wellbeing.” She grumbled, wrapping her arms tightly around his torso when her hands left his face. “Baby, you scared me.” His arms wrapped around her shoulders securely, as he rolled his eyes, though Katsuki wouldn’t deny he was appreciating all the attention she was giving him, he was beginning to feel embarrassed as he allowed her to hold onto him.

As if the kiss hadn’t been enough to astonish the rest of their class, the pet name simply amplified their shocked as they all cried out, “baby?” Kirishima had exchanged looks with Mina, who looked equally confused before returning their gaze to Katsuki, a look of betrayal evident on both their faces.

Stupid barbarians. “SHUT UP EXTRAS!” Katsuki exclaimed, holding Y/N tighter to his chest as his cheeks flushed red, he could hear her laugh against his chest. “Can’t a guy hug his girlfriend in peace.”

“GIRLFRIEND?”

He was grateful for the subject change, though he didn’t appreciate the fact that his relationship had been exposed, until he looked back to Y/N, who beamed at him.

If she was happy then it was fine he supposed.

SHINSOU HITOSHI

welp

this one will probably have the funniest reaction

you did not just kiss him, in front of all these people, was that a joke?

i think he’s the only one you wouldn’t already be in a relationship with, purely because this is just 10x funnier

so ever since the two of you first started hanging, there have been people criticizing you for befriending him at all, because of his quirk, they just cannot believe that the Y/N L/N is hanging out with Shinsou Hitoshi

but also, ever since the two of you started hanging out, the bullying has lessened immensely, most because you threatened everyone it was really subtle, but they got the message

nobody screws with Y/N L/N

anyways, you two are probably hanging out again, and it’s been a while since you got one of those comments, which is the main reason this one sets you off.

“quit hanging out with that freak L/N, he’s gonna ruin your chances at becoming a pro.”

shinsou was used to this, and your violent reactions, so he immediately brought a hand to your arm to ensure you didn’t commit a murder, shaking his head at you

you turn back to him, and you’re lowkey glaring at him before turning your piercing eyes back to the other guys

and without breaking eye contact with them, you grab Shinsou’s face, earning stares from everywhere in the cafeteria, and then kiss him

shinsou is shocked

shinsou.exe

you killed him.

he did not anticipate this um, you kinda caught him by surprise with this one, he genuinely did not think it was possible for you to feel this way for him

when you pull away, the kiss is almost like magic

you don’t mess with Y/N’s friends, much less their boyfriend

When Y/N beams up at Shinsou, he can’t help the way his heart skips a beat. It’s ridiculous, he knows this, and he hates that he can’t prevent it. Shinsou is no fool, he knows Y/N L/N, a UA student that could potentially be a member of the Top Ten heroes in the future, would never like him. He wouldn’t be shocked if she befriended him entirely out of pity, given how students used to treat him prior to their unlikely friendship. She’d weaseled her way into his life, despite his attempts to avoid her, ignore her, and even tell her off, she’d stuck around.

And yes, Shinsou had made the mistake of liking her. On days like this, he’d entertain the possibility that Y/N liked him back, because sometimes she hugged him for longer than average friends did, or maybe she’d press a kiss to his cheek, or even hold his hands.

That was probably just something best friends did.

“Hitoshi! Don’t you know what this means?” She exclaimed, hands finding their way onto his shoulders in the middle of the cafeteria.

Yes, she used his first name.

Shinsou rolled his eyes, trying to keep himself from getting flustered purely because her hands were on him, “Y/N it’s not a big deal, and besides-”

“We’re going to be in the same class!” Her hands move from his shoulders to around them as she pulls him into a hug, “I’m so proud of you.”

He’s shocked that she’s saying these things, and its clear she has more confidence in him than he does. Aizawa had offered him daily training to get him onto the same level as the other Class 1-A students, and he’d be joining them the next semester, assuming everything went well. “It’s no guarantee.” He mumbles, wrapping his arms around her torso.

Shinsou felt Y/N swat his back as she pulled away slightly, much to his dismay, “you’re so talented! Of course, he’s gonna let you in.”

She sounded so sure, and Shinsou felt his heart swell with pride.

He moves to speak, only to be interrupted by a passerby, “L/N. Come on, quit hanging out with that freak.” Y/N recognized him, James, he’d bothered Shinsou before, and he’d tried to get Y/N to stop hanging out with Shinsou and been unsuccessful. “He’s just gonna ruin your chances at becoming a pro.”

Y/N pulls away slightly from Shinsou, her brows are furrowed as she moves to confront him, only for Shinsou to grab her arm, shaking his head. “Don’t.”

Turning to glare at the guy, Y/N scoffed, “is this because I rejected you?”

“He asked you out?” Shinsou asked, but Y/N gave him a look that said they’d discuss it later. She could remember the day vividly, he’d asked shortly after she returned from hanging out with Shinsou, telling her she could do so much better, and so much better meant him.

She disagreed. And now Y/N couldn’t help but feel bothered as their argument begins to draw attention from others within the cafeteria, she can see in the corner of her eye that Izuku has come to a stand. Though Iida is grasping his shoulder to try and prevent him from doing anything irrational, they all knew Y/N could stand on her own.

James scoffed at her words, “you probably rejected me because he made you.” The implications were dark, the idea that Shinsou had forced Y/N to befriend him and reject James, though he’d never used his quirk on her and swore he never would.

Shinsou found himself releasing Y/N’s arm, taking a step backwards as he sighed, only for her to grab his hand and yank him closer before taking his face in her hands and kissing him.

She was kissing him.

Oh.

Shinsou’s mind empties as Y/N pulls away, turning back to James as she says, “my boyfriend doesn’t need to make me do anything.” And the boy practically stomps off in frustration, grumbling about Shinsou’s stupid quirk or something of that sort. Not that either of them are paying attention as Y/n brings a hand to the back of her neck awkwardly, searching her mind for an explanation.

“Boyfriend?” His voice is soft, small, and he knows there are other people in the cafeteria but he can’t bring himself to care about their stares.

Y/N turns to him, and she feels her cheeks warm as she tries to avoid his eyes, “well. Only if you want to-”

“I want to.” Shinsou replies too quickly, his cheeks flushing.

Y/N nods, “cool.”

“Cool.”

Izuku can’t help but beam as he watches the interaction, hitting Iida’s arm repetitvely as as he exclaims, “does this mean I’ll be able to study his quirk more?”

Tsu just sighs, “this means we don’t have to listen to her pining anymore.”

TODOROKI SHOUTO

THIS ONE

probably the most relaxed about it, not flustered at all, you tried thoughh

your relationship isn’t really a secret, it’s just that neither of you are that into PDA.

there will be occasional cuddling on the common room couch of the dorms during movie night, but that’s seen as normal to the rest of Class 1-A. during dates, there will be hand holding, a kiss on the cheek, an arm around the shoulder, otherwise most of the intimacy is reserved for your rooms

this lack of PDA is why class 1-A was completely unaware that the two of you were dating,

though you hadn’t tried to hide it, you also hadn’t made it entirely public, you also lowkey thought everyone knew.

mostly because it was so blatantly obvious that shoto was in love with you, but the entire class thought he was unaware of his own feelings and you were just oblivious

oh how wrong they were

you come into class one day and you see shoto and you’re just like lol hi babe and you kiss him, he kisses back, LIKE IT IS THE MOST NORMAL THING

he’s temporarily caught off guard because like i said you two don’t really do PDA, but he digs it, 10/10 would kiss you again in front of everyone, mostly because after all of the CHAOS that this kiss causes, the other boys in the class stop blatantly flirting with you

speaking of chaos

the class erupts into PURE CHAOS

so much yelling and screaming, they are so confused, have fun explaining that one

shoto is equally confused as to why they are confused and you’re just laughing because you knew this would mess with their heads. he ends up getting a little flustered by all the sudden attention the two of you are getting, but maintains his apathetic attitude.

Shoto places his bag beside his desk before pulling his things out one by one to place them onto the desk along with the small cup of coffee. Shoto wasn’t really the coffee type himself, he preferred tea, Y/N on the other hand had an obsession if he was honest. Of course, he enabled this obsession, he liked being the one to bring a smile onto her face.

Yeah, he was whipped.

He could tell when Y/N entered the room because the atmosphere seemed to change entirely, she seemed to brighten everyone’s mood despite how early it was. Greeting their other classmates, she began to move towards him, seeing that he was holding a cup of coffee, Y/N raised a brow. “You drink coffee now?” She asked as she placed her things down.

Shaking his head, Shoto extended the hand with the cup of coffee towards him, “it’s for you.” He explained, small smile on his face.

The rest of their classmates watched the interaction, Kirishima punching Kaminari’s arm as he exclaimed, “so manly!”

Bakugou scoffed from beside the both of them, “if he was really manly then maybe he’d actually ask her out.” Crossing his arms, he averts his eyes from the two, finding the class’s obsession with their relationship a tad ridiculous. Though everyone seemed to be at least slightly invested in the potential outcome at this point.

“Whatever, Bakugo.” Mina says, “L/N has the prettiest boy in class wrapped around her finger- ugh! I want someone to love me like that.” She places her head in her hand, brows furrowing as she stares at the two. Y/N is smiling widely at Shoto, who returns her smile with one of his own.

And then Y/N kisses him. As though this is an everyday thing.

Mina practically jumps out her seat, and though Bakugo would never admit it, his mouth gaped open in shock as she cried out, “did you two just kiss?!”

Shoto’s cheeks are red as they pull away, though his face remains apathetic as he looks to the ground and Y/N replies, “can I not kiss my boyfriend?” She tilts her head in confusion, laughing slightly at the outburst and the clear shock in everyone’s faces.

“Boyfriend?” Hagaruke cried out. “Why didn’t you tell us?!”

Y/N’s brows furrows as she looks to the rest of the astonished class, “did you guys seriously not know? I thought we were obvious, I literally call him by his first name-”

“We thought that was because you two were madly in love with each other but neither could confess!” Momo exclaimed suddenly, her cheeks flaming red at her outburst as she slaps a hand over her mouth.

Mina simply nods in agreement, “exactly! But now he’s buying you coffee and-”

Shoto shakes his head in confusion, “I often buy her coffee, normally she finishes it before we get to class.” He looks to Y/N, a small frown on her face, “today she woke up too late for me to walk her to school so I couldn’t give it to her then-”

“You’re so manly, Todoroki!” Kirishima exclaims, though Shoto simply looks at him in confusion as he removes his hand from Y/N’s waist.

Shrugging, he takes a seat at his desk and Y/N speaks once more, “I just don’t understand how you guys didn’t know.” Standing beside him as he organizes his things while seated, Y/N runs a hand through his hair, and Shoto’s cheeks seemed to redden once more.

“You guys aren’t normally so touchy!” Uraraka has joined the conversation, shock clear in her features.

Shoto nods in agreement, “your behavior today is abnormal, Y/N.”

Now Y/N can feel her cheeks warm as she removes her hand and takes a seat t her desk, “you guys are weird.”

Izuku simply sighs, deflating almost as he watches the interaction and leans over towards Iida, “now I owe Kacchan money.”

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bakumu-archive · 3 years

Text

maybe its true

denki kaminari x reader

wc: 1.4k

summary: you know denki loves you, so why do you feel so alone?

cw: hurt/comfort, depressive thoughts, being alone, tickling, fluff, mentions of food

a/n: this ones been in my drafts for a month. does this count as an apology for being mean to him in my baku bday fic? shout out to my wonderful beta reader, @winniethepoohloathesyou you're the best ♥

minors do not interact. this work contains mature themes and if you continue reading you have agreed you are willing to see such content

You know that Denki still loves you.

It's written all over his face as he tells you all about his new video game obsession. How his eyes light up showing you all the progress he's made, and all the things he wants to do. He loves to talk to you about the things he loves because he loves you too.

You can see it in his eyes in the way that he jumps to help you with the dishes when you ask him to, washing the dishes while you get dinner started before he makes his way back to the game room.

You can hear it in his voice when he talks to you, cracking jokes and being playful with you to dispel the sorrow that he can see hidden in your eyes.

And he's good at loving you too. He knows how to hold you just right, how to give you the perfect forehead kisses, and how to smile at you so that your heart flutters every time.

So why do you feel so sad? So alone?

You know you shouldn't feel like this. Your brain is being irrational, but that doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt. That the pain you feel of being pushed away isn't valid.

Because he comes to bed later and later each night; some nights not crawling under the covers until the sun is already up. The evenings you used to spend cuddling on the couch watching anime are now spent alone while he sits at his computer. The way everything he does is only done so he can go back to his games faster. Dinner is eaten later and later each night, until it’s 10 p.m. and the food has long since gone cold. The way he doesn't touch you like you need him to anymore, and if he does, it’s only because you begged him.

Is it enough that he loves you? Shouldn't you be his number one source of happiness? Why does he have to seek out and spend all his time away from you? Why aren't you enough?

It’s a stupid thought, one that you always fight as soon as it appears, because you know where it lead. But maybe it is true.

Maybe you are just being annoying. Trying to drag his attention away from things that make him happy. Being selfish and needy trying to consume all of him time.

But shouldn't you alone be able to make him happy? Are you not good enough anymore?

You try and push the thoughts away, but they are too loud and incessant.

And besides, you know what he would say if you brought it up to him. What he always says when you bring it up.

"I work all day and just want to play my games and relax when I get home. It has nothing to do with you, I love you, I just need to clear my mind."

The phrasing never sits right with you: are you not relaxing to be around? Does your presence in his life annoy him to the point where he has to play video games to escape you?

Stupid, stupid thoughts. Obviously, you don't annoy him like that. But it still stings. Still hurts.

You roll over in your dark bedroom, checking the time on your phone, blinded by the illuminated screen momentarily.

2:05 a.m.

Denki stayed up until 5:40 a.m. last night and woke up at 10 this morning. Thank god, it's a weekend, but he has to be getting tired by now, right?

You debate going to talk to him or just staying wrapped in the warmth of your blankets. Either way could end up with you sad and disappointed so you might as well make sure he hasn't fallen asleep in an awkward position. The last thing he needs is to have a sore neck and back.

You make your way through the dark house before peaking your head into the game room. Denki looks up from his screen and sends you one of his big smiles. Your heart instantly feels lighter but you can't hide the sadness in your voice as you speak.

"Are you coming to bed soon?"

His eyes grow wider at the crack in your voice, before he looks back down at his game. His mind seems to be racing and calculating, before he speaks.

"You know, I really wanted to get this done today. I've been trying to get it just perfect. Just a few more minutes and I'll be in. I promise, babe."

You try and hide the selfish hurt in your eyes. You knew this would be the outcome, it was foolish to even come ask.

Your lip quivers trying to hold in the pain and you mumble, "Okay, Denks. I'm going to go to sleep now. See you in the morning."

You leave, turning to go back to your room. The bed that you share with him will be cold on his half yet again as you fall asleep, but at this point you should be used to it, right?

You are almost to the bedroom door, too wrapped up in your own feelings to notice the sound of feet moving toward you at a fast pace. His body slams into yours and you jump as arms wrap around your waist and Denki envelops you in his arms. He gives you a firm kiss on the cheek before resting his chin on your shoulder.

"You looked too cute to be going to bed alone. I wouldn't want anyone to snatch you up before you got there, it's dangerous out here you know."

"In our own hallways? Shouldn't some pro-hero be here protecting us?" You sigh and roll your eyes at him as you lean into his embrace, enjoying it while it lasts.

He snuggles his nose into your neck before responding, “You are so right, I really need to call someone about the patrol routes.”

His hands move down to your hips slowly as he speaks again, “There have been sightings around here of a tickle monster on the loose. I would hate to see him get his hands on you.”

His fingers start to twitch at your sides.

You try to give him a warning, “Denki, don't you—” but you were too slow. His fingers dance over all of your most sensitive areas, tickling you until you laugh and plead for him to stop, but the noise just bounces off the walls all around you, falling on deaf ears.

His grasp eventually falters and your squirming body is eventually able to break free, making a run for the bedroom, but Denki is close on your heels. You jump onto the bed and grab a pillow to hold above your head as a weapon to defend yourself.

“Woah, woah, ok I didn't know that we kept weapons in here,” Denki laughs as he sees your fighting stance. “I'll turn myself in.”

He takes a running jump to the bed and belly flops onto the mattress with a force so large you almost fall off. He rolls over and looks up at you before opening his arms and motioning you to cuddle with him.

You flop into his embrace, snuggling into his chest as he starts to pet your hair. Both of your breathing slowly returning to normal after your battle.

Denki gives your forehead a soft kiss before he's angling your chin up so he can look you in the eyes.

“Babe, I’m really sorry I haven't been paying attention to you. How about tomorrow morning I make those special pancakes you love so much and we can talk about it more then?”

Your body perks up a bit. “The ones with the whipped cream?”

“Yep,” he closes his eyes looking smug before he peaks one eyes open at you, “including the secret sauce.”

You let out a small ouh before snuggling into him closer, getting comfortable in the bed that finally has the warmth you've been denied for so long, a small smile appearing on your face.

He reaches down to your hand and entwines his fingers with yours, his thumb rubbing small circles into your soft skin before he looks at you again, eyes swimming with love and regret.

“You're my everything, my whole world. You know that, right?”

You smile back at him, nodding before burying your face in his chest, getting more comfortable and warm by the second.

You know that you need to have a bigger conversation with him, but that can wait until tomorrow because right now you just need to bask in this feeling, of being surrounded by his love.

As you drift off to sleep you hear him, “Good night, Y/N. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Denks.”

thanks for reading :)

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#denki x reader #denki kaminari x reader #kaminari x reader #kaminari denki x reader #hurt/comfort #mha angst #denki angst #kaminari angst

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aminiatureworld · 3 years

Text

Disappearance III

Character: Childe, gn!reader

Word Count: 2,581

Warnings: None

Premise: In which there is an argument and the reader disappears.

Author’s Note: Childe my favorite character, how I love to torture you.

But genuinely I really like how this one came out.

Childe

Childe craned his neck to stare at the clock on the wall behind him. Sighing at the lateness of the afternoon he turned back towards the papers in his lap, trying desperately to focus, to not let his thoughts drift off to the argument that had taken place in the morning.

It had started out simple enough. Childe had informed you that he might be gone for some time, as the Tsaritsa had requested a high-level reconnaissance mission, and Childe was to be the one to lead it. He thought that you react much the way that you always had, assurances of his success, light-hearted reminders to stay safe, and a goodbye kiss as you two settled back into a normal routine before the day of departure. Instead however, your lips had slanted into a frown, and you stopped making your breakfast to turn and face your partner.

“Childe, I wish you wouldn’t always take things on yourself.”

“What do you mean darling?” Childe felt a wave of surprise wash over him. After all, what else was he supposed to do?

“I mean that you’re being entirely too reckless Childe. You know that you have too high a profile to be doing stuff like this. I… I would like you to sit this one out. Just this one.”

Childe couldn’t help but laugh, whether out of irritation or genuine amusement he wasn’t sure of. “As much as I appreciate the concern, I can’t do that. No leader worth their salt would send their underlings off alone, even if they are some of the weakest underlings in the world. No one’s been able to pull the wool over me yet darling, it’ll be perfectly alright.”

“You’re not listening to me,” your voice picked up in intensity. “Childe I really try, I try to remind myself that you’re a Harbinger and able to take care of yourself; but sometimes it’s just too much. This is too much.”

“You’re being silly,” Childe said, trying to keep his tone light. “I’ll be fine. Besides, I can’t disobey the Tsaritsa. She wishes me to do this so I will. It’s as simple as that.”

“The Tsaritsa is far away, she has hundreds, thousands under her command. She won’t bat an eye at your safety.”

“Like you said, I can take care of myself.”

“But what if one day you can’t? What if, what if one day you don’t come back. Please, just this once; just this once don’t go.”

“I know that the length of time is upsetting, but you can’t react like this every time I have to go away for a while. I promise that you’ll have me all to yourself afterwards.”

“It’s not about that Childe! Please, please listen to me. I’m worried about your safety. I’m worried one of these days you’re going to end up in a fight too big even for you. What will you do then? What will your underlings do? What will I do? Please, tell the Tsaritsa you have to stay and make sure the Bank stays out of trouble, or that nothing happens in Liyue. Please, don’t go this time.”

“You’re being irrational.” By now Childe was definitely irritated.

“No, I’m being realistic. You don’t take care of yourself enough.”

“You’re just underestimating me. Besides, I’m a better fighter than you’ll ever be. It’s not like you can protect me even if I stayed here.”

“What?”

“It’s not like staying in Liyue would be any safer, better to face things head on. For the Tsaritsa, for Snezhnaya, that is the most important thing. If you can’t see that, you’re just being stupid.”

Although Childe regretted the words almost immediately after they left his mouth he could see that saying that would’ve had no effect. So instead he watched silently as your face clouded over and you stormed out the door, not bothering to grab your food as you slung your pack around you back and walked out. A part of him wanted to call after you, but he knew that even if he did you probably wouldn’t listen. Even if you did, what could he say? After all, he had simply spoken the truth; even if you couldn’t accept it as such.

Now Childe sat on the couch, eyes glazing voer as he stared at all the paperwork that needed to be done before his mission. He had already spent a hectic, uneasy day at the bank. Though he knew that none of his underlings would be foolish enough to try to pull something while he was gone, Andrei would make sure of that and Childe would make sure of Andrei, it was still tedious, boring work. This was in no way helped by the lingering ill will from his fight with you earlier. Though Childe ultimately forgot fights relatively quickly the time right after was always an uneasy one, filled with sudden flashes of irritation replaced suddenly by the wish for it all to have never happened.

He had hoped that you might be home by the time he arrived, but your absence wasn’t truly much of a surprise. Besides the fact that you were still probably angry with him, something Childe couldn’t really fault, you had recently been involved with some project near the Chasm, and it was hardly surprising that something that big caused you late hours. Still he couldn’t deny the fact that he was somewhat disappointed, or maybe disheartened was a better way to put it. He hated fighting with you, especially fights that lasted. Even if he was irritated with you, even if he thought that you had demanded something impossible, he still regretted snapping at you. He just wanted you to come home now, that way he could apologize and explain the situation better. That way he wouldn’t leave with any ill will behind him.

The clock was excruciatingly slow, but the insult of that wasn’t registered until Childe dozed off. Waking up in the middle of the night he was surprised at your continued absence. Though he had expected that sleeping on the couch might’ve happened, your total disappearance was certainly something that threw him for a loop. Making his way to the bedroom and flopping down on the bed Childe closed his eyes, pushing away the anxiety that clustered at the edge of his thoughts.

Perhaps you’d ended up staying with Hu Tao, or maybe you’d gone back home to your family. He had been awfully mean after all, and you were never the kind of person to take his insults sitting down. Still, if that were true why hadn’t you packed more, or come back to collect your things? It didn’t make any sense. Questions and half baked reasonings floated through Childe head as he tried to delay the inevitable pull of sleep. The last conscious thought he could remember was the knowledge that at least you would be back tomorrow.

You were not, in fact, home tomorrow. The Harbinger’s time spent at the Northland Bank was almost completely useless, the meeting with the people he’d be going on his mission with even more so. Though Childe wasn’t necessarily the most attentive listener, often letting his mind wander when his fellow Fatui members fell into arguing about the most insipid things, he knew that paying attention to a plan as a whole was critical to its success. Even so he couldn’t bring his mind to focus on the maps and profiles that sat in front of him. Where were you? It seemed like such a silly question, but the longer it floated in Childe’s head the colder he felt.

Finally the meetings and the menial tasks ended and Childe could go home. Sprinting down the winding streets of Liyue, not bothering to hide the fact he was in a hurry, Childe burst into the apartment. His heart sank as he was met with the same image he’d seen when he’d left that morning.

Afterwards Childe wandered around the docks of Liyue, trying to keep the quickly fragmenting pieces of his mind together. He knew that he was probably overreacting, knew that you were simply staying away because of what he said, knew that it wouldn’t be forever – you would have definitely told him if that were the case. Still he couldn’t help but feel dread crawling over him, saturating the cracks of his brain as he wondered how he’d managed to fuck everything up so much. He had underestimate how much his words must have affected you, and that only made him feel worse. Finally exhausting his walk along the pier Childe set off towards the edges of the city and into the vast wilderness of Liyue. He needed to find something to fight.

The nightmare continued on into the next day, then into the day after that. Childe could barely remember what he did during those days, walking around as if possessed, unable to concentrate on anything for more than a few moments before his thoughts inevitably found their way back to you. Mostly Childe ended up sleeping, dozing off at his desk or on the couch, papers fluttering from his hands onto the floor. Mostly Childe dreamed of you.

They weren’t dreams of any particular note, their contents incredibly mundane. Not that it matter to Childe; within those dreams he felt nothing but happy domesticity, a calm that washed over him as he walked with you to the market or lay next to you under the stars. Always you would appear in his dreams suddenly, and always he would throw his arms around you, clinging to you as if even an embrace wasn’t enough. Always he woke up with a sense of desolation so vast it threatened to consume him.

Finally on the fifth day Childe couldn’t take it anymore. Waking up at almost the crack of dawn the Harbinger rushed to the Bank. He wouldn’t stay long, only enough to inform Andrei that he’d be out for the day. Then he’d go to the Guild and check and make sure everything was okay. Then, well he’d figure out what to do then. It seemed pathetic to chase after you, not to mention gross. He wouldn’t become a stalker, wouldn’t let himself fall into such pathetic behavior. Still, he had to make sure you were at least okay. As long as he did that, well, the rest could come later.

Striding into the Bank Childe was met with a surprising sight. Normally Ekaterina stayed firmly tucked inside her receptionist cubby, even more antisocial than the likes of the Balladeer or the Fatui that guarded Dragonspine. Now however she stood at the front of the booth, wringing her hands this way and that as she stared at a piece of paper in front of her. Feeling a sudden sense of dread Childe walked up to her.

“Ekaterina?”

“Oh!” Ekaterina whirled around, look on her face one of utter anxiety. “My lord, I was horrified to hear of the news, tell me, do you know if they’re almost free?”

“What are you talking about?” Childe narrowed his eyes.

“Why, your partner. I only heard today from Nadia; no wonder you’ve been so distant recently, if it’s not too much for me to say so. I only hope that they’ll soon be rescued, I’m sure you know about the situation better than I do though.”

“Ekaterina, what in the Tsaritsa’s name are you talking about?”

A shadow passed over Ekaterina’s face, a look of utter dread. Swallowing slightly she stared at a spot in the wall right to the side of Childe. “You partner, my lord, I’ve been informed that they have become trapped in one of the caverns of the Chasm. I thought that you knew about it, it’s been five days after a–”

Childe didn’t hear the rest of what Ekaterina had to say. Whirling around the Harbinger slammed his way out of the bank, aiming towards the nearest waypoint. Cold dread washed over him and with it desperate determination. He’d rescue you. If he had to tear apart the entire Chasm and raze all the mountains in Liyue to the ground so be it.

Approaching the Chasm Childe felt a rush of adrenaline wash over him. He was terrified. By the Seven, he was utterly terrified. Images of you flashed in his mind, images of you cowering in the dark, stuck at the bottom of an endless pit, lying on the ground with no air or food or life in you. How could he have let this happen? How could he have not known of this before? Anger burned within Childe, anger at himself. He should have never let you walk out of your apartment without apologizing first. He should have enquired after you after the first night you didn’t show up. He should’ve been the first person there for you, instead of the last person to know. He was so utterly stupid.

Approaching what must’ve been the site of the accident Childe felt his stomach drop to his feet at the sight of you. You were covered in dirt, cuts spread across your arms and legs as you slumped against a Guild member, dragging your feet in an awkward shuffle towards the stretcher that must’ve been meant to bring you to the apothecary. There were a variety of Guild members flocking around you, along with one of the doctors of Liyue, who was scribbling notes down furiously. Your expression was utterly dazed, as if you weren’t exactly sure of what was going on, something that tore Childe apart.

Stepping towards you Childe called out your name. At the sound your head jerked up, and you gave a hoarse sort of cry before turning to make your way towards him. Sprinting towards you Childe stepped backwards as you fell awkwardly into him. Steadying you for a moment before wrapping his arms around you Childe felt all his emotions crashing over him, so intense that he couldn’t control them anymore. Ignoring the tears that tracked their way down his cheeks the Harbinger let out a shudder.

“Thank the Seven, thank the Seven you’re safe. I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry. You don’t have to forgive me, alright? You don’t have to forgive me, but by the gods I’m so sorry.”

“I wish you had been there,” you mumbled softly. “It was so dark, I couldn’t see anything. I thought, I thought that I might never see you again.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I said all those things to you, I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you, I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. You should’ve fold so easily you know, you should be really, really angry at me.”

“I don’t want to be angry at you though, I just want you to stay.”

“Then I will,” Childe tightened his embrace around you. “I promise I will.”

“Okay.”

Having apparently said everything that had to be said you let Childe sling you onto his back, refusing to be carried to the hospital in the stretcher. As you appeared to doze off on his back Childe made a promise to himself. Even if he couldn’t disobey the Tsaritsa, even if he couldn’t change who he was, he would never leave you when you needed him to be there.

You would never find yourself needing him to be there without the chance of your need being met. That he promised you.

#genshin impact fanfiction #childe x reader #childe #genshin impact #genshin childe #requested #fanfiction #scenarios #my writing

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lubdubsworld · 3 years

Text

Better Man.

~~~~We might still be in love, if you were a better man. ~~~~

Taehyung x OC

Rating 18 +

Angst.

Implied Infidelity in the past.

Chapter 1 ~ Walk out the first time.

"Are you okay?" My mother's soft voice came from behind me and i panicked, hurriedly swiping at the tears that were streaking down my face. Heart pounding, I grabbed a bunch of tissues from the dresser, patting my face down hurriedly , making sure to keep my back to her.

"I'm fine, Mom." I said , voice surprisingly steady as I turned around to smile weakly at her. She stood near the doorway, a petite woman of fifty with greying hair and too many wrinkles.

I thought she looked older than she was and i knew I had a part to play in that. Sighing, I tried not to cry more, moving to gently take my son out of her arms.

He was four years old, fast asleep and smiling sweetly in his slumber. He had downy black hair, feather soft and warm brown eyes. He looked incredibly like his father, the resemblance stunning even though he was so young. I stared at him some more, laying him down on the bed and brushing the hair off his face.

"Are you sure there is no mistake? Taehyung ssi wouldn't hurt us like this..." My mother said, sounding broken and I felt a pang of sympathy. But also annoyance.

Us.

Us....like she had an equal share in the hurt I was feeling.

I was the one getting a divorce but my mother made it sound like it was personal to her as well. Like somehow, the fact that she now had to meet her friends and tell them that her daughter was divorced could compare to the pain I was feeling. To the sheer anguish that was filling me.

To be fair though, my mother had loved Taehyung very much. Her favorite son-in-law . My sister's husband had been a mean drunkard who had brought a lot of misery to our family. Taehyung by contrast had been a loving, filial son in law. He had cared deeply for my parents, paid for my father's funeral ( even though the man itself was nothing more than a drunk , cheating fool who had abandoned us ) and he had been the most kind man .

I swallowed.

Maybe , you should have forgiven him. Maybe , you shouldn't have divorced him . So, he slept with another woman. Fine. It was one night... just one night. you should have gotten over it! Was it worth it to spend all these countless nights alone? To break your mother's heart a thousand times over?

The funny thing was, i had forgiven him. Maybe right after I had found out. He had stood there, looking shell-shocked and horrified and his eyes had begged me for forgiveness and my heart had cracked , the way it always did whenever I saw him in distress. And when he had looked me in the eye and said, " I’m sorry, Jang mi..." I had forgiven him right then and there.

But it was the forgetting that was hard. The fear that it would happen again. The fear that somehow, I was the reason he strayed. And that kind of fear can be debilitating. For the first three weeks, I'd tried to pretend it hadn't happened. I had tried hard to see him the way I had always seen him but it had been impossible. everytime I saw him, my heart had broken anew. It had been hard but I had to accept that things would never be the same. That I would forever look at him and remember what he’d done. That I would forever wonder if he would do it again.

So we had done the wise thing.

At first a break.

A few days apart to get our head on straight. Then I’d found a job and I had to move closer to the office to make the commute easy. And then suddenly, I wasn’t seeing him even during the weekends , to spend time as family for our son’s sake. And just like that , a whole year had passed and we were separated. Only meeting to hand Hoshi over to each other.

"I'm sorry mother." I said softly. I knew that she blamed me, a whole lot for the separation.

People with children didn't leave each other over infidelity in my country. You hit your husband, denied him from your bed maybe but you didn't break up a family over one night of bad decisions. You just didn't .

But for me, it was beyond the act. It was the broken trust, the shock of knowing that some other woman had given him something I couldn't, the fact that he had even wanted it from another woman had been enough for me to crumble on the inside.

But, none of it mattered now.

He wanted a divorce. Officially. Wanted to end it for real.

It was jarring, how badly it shook me. I felt unaccountably lost and confused and disoriented. I couldn't imagine not being Taehyung’s wife , i realized with a stunning sense of self realization.

Call me irrational, but apparently, I couldn't stop thinking of him as my husband , even after two years. Soon he wouldn't be my husband.

He would be my ex -husband.

i hated that word.

It had such a plethora of negative connotations to it. When you hear it , you just brace yourself for unpleasantness.

Because it is unpleasant. A marriage ending, a family breaking, feelings hurt , hearts shattered, angry words tossed...its all a very unpleasant experience for everyone involved.

An ex husband was seldom a harbinger of happiness, more often a reminder of choices gone wrong, regrets and wasted time. and I didn’t want to associate Taehyung with a word like that.

Taehyung who was still the kindest, warmest human being I knew. The best father in the world.

I felt like someone had sucked all the strength out of me.

I didn’t really want to think about the call I’d gotten from Taehyung last night. An appointment with a divorce lawyer. It had been followed by an apology because apparently, someone in the law firm had let the info leak. And now it was all over the sleazy tabloids that fed on people’s misery.

It was impossible to escape it too, Taehyung was famous. An idol. And actor. The country's sweetheart. And he was the epitome of perfection. The beautiful, talented actor with an impeccable record of well behavior.

I knew that literally everyone on the planet thought he was a literal angel.

I remembered how much , by contrast, I had been hated when I'd married him.

I could just imagine how much more it would all be this time around. And i wondered if it bothered Taehyung too. Did he perhaps wish he’d never met me

It had been sheer luck that we had met....

In fact, if Jimin's car hadn't broken down right outside our home on that cold December night, I wouldn't have even met Taehyung. A great cosmic shift, somewhere some butterfly flapped its wing a certain way and suddenly, Jimin’s car ran over a thumbtack and his phone was dead so while he tried to fix the damage , Taehyung just had to knock on our home and I had been the one to open it.

Boom. That was it. Love at first sight.

I had been a high school kid and he had been barely nineteen. Fresh faced and cheerful , the struggling idol from a small company. He hadn't been surrounded by fans or chased by saesangs. He hadn't had security tailing him. No daesangs, BBMAs, or acting awards. No blockbuster movies to his credit , no chart-bursting songs either .

And I had fallen in love with that version of him.

The hardworking, talented young man who worked twice as hard as anyone around him.

That's right. You've loved him for fifteen years. So it's understandable that you're upset. Now, maybe you can move on too. Go on a few of those blind dates that Jiyoung is always setting you up on. Go live your life instead of being a zombie. Get a hair cut. Dye your hair red. Do something to get your life in order.

"I still find it hard to believe that he would want a divorce. Jangmi yah... did you tell him you forgave him? Tell him you wanted to try again..." My mother said again and the distress in her voice was equal parts heartbreaking and exasperating.

"Mother, I don't want to try again . We aren't married anymore. It's over, whatever it was between us. "

Whatever it was.

How cruel, to have all that love, all that affection reduced to a phrase like that.

What a pity.

"But what about Hoshi? He needs his father..." My mother cried out and I willed myself not to snap. She means well, I thought miserably.

"He has a father. Taehyung is an excellent father and you know that. Don’t start that again.”

My mother sighed.

"I still feel that this wouldn’t happen if you tried a little bit. He’s a good boy. Such a good boy and you could never do anyone better. Why are you so full of pride, Jangmi... so prideful...you should be a little humble. Think of the kind of man he is...where would you find a man like that ? And moreover .... Taehyung loves you. i know he does." My mother said stubbornly.

I sighed, feeling my fingers shake from the effort not to scream. I wasn’t strong enough to have this conversation with her. Not now. Possibly never. Taehyung did love me. Had never made any effort to hide it. But sometimes, love wasn’t enough. It just wasn’t.

And I wanted to yell at my mother she was at least partially to blame for me walking out on Taehyung.

My father had left us for another woman , when I was twelve. I had seen the toll it had taken on my mother and I just knew that I would never let a man do that to me. My mother had later confided in me that it wasn’t the first time. He had done it before. A lot of times. And my mother had always forgiven him. Let him back into our lives.

And one night, drunk on soju she had confided between hiccups, ‘ I wish I’d walked out the first time.”

And that had stuck with me.

Walk out the first time.

If he cheats on you , walk out the first time. Don’t stick around waiting for him to do it to you again. Walk out the first time.

And so I had.

“ Should I talk to him? Tell him you’ve changed your mind? “ My mother began and I felt my patience snap.

“No!! Could you just, for the love of God, stay out of this, ma? It’s over. Our marriage is over and it has been over for a long time. A piece of paper doesn’t really change that, does it? Its not my fault you can’t get over it but that’s a you problem. And you need to fix it yourself. “ I shouted.

My mother immediately recoiled, eyes shuttering down.

“Of course. You know the best. Who cares how anyone else feels, right, Jang Mi? You always know best.” She said softly, and I exhaled, shaken. There it was. The guilt trip. It was never ending.

Please... I just need to go now.” I moved to grab my bag, :” I need to go get ready for the meeting with the lawyers tomorrow. You can keep Hoshi with you tonight. I’ll come pick him up after I’m done and then I’ll drop him off at his father’s place.”

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

With Taehyung and I, our break up hadn’t been terrible.

It hadn’t been terrible because our own penchant for being terrible had always been very minimal. We didn’t do swearing or fights or threats and it always annoyed our friends that we got along so well. That it was so easy for us to forgive and move on with each other . That we were the one couple who didn’t hold grudges or bring up past mistakes.

Which is why, when we did break up, none of our friends had tried to change our minds over it. They had accepted it rather calmly, shocked at first because it was so out of the blue but not opposed to the idea itself . They just trusted us to know the right thing to do because we were easily the most mature , the most level headed couple in the entire group. We were usually the sounding boards , the voice of reason in whatever petty conflict our friends were involved in .

So when it was us, needling a little advice, a little guidance, our friends had been woefully ill equipped to help. They had merely hummed and nodded and empathized. Maybe that was another reason I’d left. I hadn’t considered the alternative. No one had asked me to consider the alternative.

Our friends had watched us drift apart watched us break up, but they hadn’t really asked us why.

Because if something had caused Kim Taehyung and Jang Mi to break up, man, that must’ve been a really huge issue.

So the break up had been amicable. Gradual and slow but mostly amicable, eased by our mutual love for our son. We wanted him happy and he was happy when we were happy. So we put on a front, laughed and joked in front of him and let him have some semblance of normalcy in his life.

It wasn’t easy.

From him, it had been nothing but a mess of heated glances, touches laced with intent and eyes begging forgiveness . every gaze of his was a silent scream for a second chance that I was not at all ready to give.

Because for me, the raw hurt and anger and frustration that bubbled up every time I saw him , it had nowhere to go. It stayed churning in my gut, made everything bitter and unpalatable and I wanted to hurt him for hurting me. How could I think of a second chance when the hurt from the first, was still so fresh, an open wound festering.

Self esteem in tatters, I had hated him fiercely.

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

The meeting was at his company, and I arrived at nine in the morning, with a few more minutes to spare. I knew the place like the back of my hand, was here at least once a week either to pick or drop Hoshi off and I knew that the conference room in the third floor was sound proof and cut off from the rest of the building for extra privacy.

Which was a little too late because I’d found two tabloid newspapers waiting outside my apartment this morning.

I opened the door carefully, surprised to see Taehyung sitting in one of the chairs, bent over a sheaf of paper on the table and next to him a leggy girl in a small skirt hovered, fingers resting lightly on his shoulder, bent at the optimum angle to show him her curves.

I sighed, looking away.

It was way too early for this.

“Mia!” Taehyung’s voice made me look up, and I watched as he stood up, pushing the chair away and moving to me . He was easily the most good looking man in the country. And he looked so good at thirty five that it was impossible to look away from him.

He was dressed in a pale blue shirt and black slacks and it never amazed me, how good clothes fit him.

I took in the broad shoulders, thick arms and the lean waist, the carefully styled hair and the breathtakingly beautiful face and sighed when he kept coming closer, hands held out. .

Of course, the customary hug.

i let him wrap his arms around me, my face buried in the comforting warmth of his body, the scent of his cologne filling my brain . He always smelled so good it made my heart hurt. I tried not to let myself get carried away. Tried to remind myself that this wasn’t anything more than a.....

A facade ? Or was it? Was his affection genuine?

Was I just too cynical?

I shook my head, pulling away and smiling a little at the genuine venom in the leggy girl’s face.

“Are you okay? Where’s Hoshi?” Taehyung brushed the hair off my face, eyes warm and I wondered if he’d forgotten we were here to get a divorce.

Whenever we met, Taehyung acted like we were still together.

No, that wasn’t it.

He just didn’t act like we had broken up. He was affectionate and open and cooperative. It always left me in a sort of limbo, unable to navigate our relationship with clear boundaries. There were no line to stop myself from crossing, because he just didn’t draw them.

“ Ms. Lee says we just have to go over the details like the alimony and the custody and the division of assets and then we can just proceed. Get it all finalized. “ He said casually, when I moved away and sat on the chair opposite him.

“Okay .” I said casually.

He smiled and turned back to the girl next to him.

“I’ll join you after the meeting Lisa.” he gave her a nice wide smile and the girl practically bloomed under the attention before bowing curtly in my direction. I watched her walk away, slightly amused.

“Bit younger than your usual type.” I commented , glancing at him. He gave me a look.

“I’m not dating her.” He shrugged.

“Does she know that?” I retorted.

It was dumb. Uncalled for. I was being a bitch, really but the urge to evoke some kind of reaction from Taehyung was something I’d never really out grown. I liked getting under his skin.

Taehyung sighed and gave me a little smirk.

“Are you jealous, Mia mine?” He teased.

It felt a little like someone had dug a nine inch dagger straight into my heart.

That stupid nickname.

God I couldn’t bear it.

Swallowing i looked away.

“Sorry. “ he said quietly, a few seconds later.

I nodded curtly.

“Don’t do it again.” I said hoarsely.

“Why not?” He whispered gently.

I groaned.

“Taehyung... “

“it’s just a name...why does it bother you so much?” He whispered.

“The same reason you’re asking me for a divorce.” I said softly.

He blinked.

“Mia...”

“Because we both know its time to stop.” I said quietly. “ Stop dancing around each other , stop doing...whatever it is we’ve been doing these past two years and give our relationship a name. “

“I’m not very fond of labels.” He shrugged. I glared at him.

“Well tough luck. Labels are good. Labels are great. They let you draw boundaries. “ I retorted.

“You sound like you’ve had enough of me.”

“Well, haven’t you had enough of me?” I snapped.

“Not even close.” He leaned forward gently, eyes pinning me to the table with a gaze so strong he may as well have used his body. And it didn’t help that two years wasn’t enough time to forget how it would feel if he had used his body. How it would feel to be stretched out on that table, him on top of me, hands working my clothes open, lips kissing their way down my jaw.

I could almost taste him, taste the minty freshness of his breath, feel his tongue in my mouth, the hardness of him inside me. My thighs clenched because I hadn’t gotten laid in two fucking years and even if i did, no one would ever compare to the man in front of me.

“Mr. Kim? Mrs. Kim? “

The lawyer’s voice broke the spell and i straightened, swallowing. Ms. Lee had walked in , and I watched her close the conference door behind her before locking it gently.

She was young, dressed in a business suit , a no nonsense bun and had small round framed glasses. She gave me a nice smile, shook hands with us both and placed her briefcase on the table before glancing between us.

“Shall we begin?”

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

Author’s Note : its gonna be a bumpy ride.

#taehyung angst #taehyung smut #taehyung fics #bts fics #taehyung fanfic #bts smut #bts fic #bts fanfic

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ivykrystos · 3 years

Text

Q&A- 100 Personal Questions

Leave me questions in my Inbox I haven’t interacted here in a long time but I want to

1. What’s your philosophy in life?

2. What’s the one thing you would like to change about yourself?

3. Are you religious or spiritual?

4. Do you consider yourself an introvert or an extrovert?

5. Which parent are you closer to and why?

6. What was the best phase in your life?

7. What was the worst phase in your life?

8. Is what you’re doing now what you always wanted to do growing up?

9. What makes you feel accomplished?

10. What’s your favorite book/movie of all time and why did it speak to you so much?

11. What is a relationship deal breaker for you?

12. Are you more into looks or brains?

13. Would you ever take back someone who cheated?

14. How do you feel about sharing your password with your partner?

15.If you died tomorrow, what would you wish you had done?

16. What kind of parent do you think you will be?

17. What would you do if your parents didn’t like your partner?

18. Who is that one person you can talk to about just anything?

19. Do you usually stay friends with your exes?

20. Have you ever lost someone close to you?

21. If you are in a bad mood, do you prefer to be left alone or have someone to cheer you up?

22. What’s an ideal weekend for you?

23. Can you pin point the moment in your life where you were the happiest?

24. Do you judge a book by its cover?

25. Are you confrontational?

26. When was the last time you broke someone’s heart?

27. Would you relocate for love?

28. Did you ever write a journal?

29. What are you most thankful for?

30. Do you believe in second chances?

31. What’s the one thing that people always misunderstand about you?

32. What is your idea of a perfect vacation?

33. What did your past relationship teach you?

34.Why did you cry the last time you did so?

35. Is home for you a place or a feeling? Describe that place or describe that feeling.

36. When have you felt your biggest adrenaline rush?

37. What is the craziest thing you’ve ever done and would you do it again?

38. If you could be anywhere other than where you are right now, where would you be and what would you be looking at?

39. What’s your biggest regret in life?

40. What do you think about when you’re by yourself?

41. Does your job make you happy?

42. What did you want to be when you were younger?

43. Why did your last relationship end?

45. What’s been your biggest mistake so far in life and what did you learn from it?

46. Where is your favorite place in the entire world to go?

47. What are your top five favorite movies?

48. What are some of your favorite songs?

49. What qualities do you admire about your parents?

50. How would you describe your best friend?

51. What’s your favorite hobby to do alone?

52. What’s something you can’t go a day without doing?

53. What’s the most spontaneous thing you’ve done lately?

54. What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done for love?

55. What’s your biggest pet peeve?

56. Do you have any recurring dreams or nightmares?

57. What accomplishment are you most proud of?

58. What is one dream you have yet to accomplish?

59. What is your greatest fear?

60. What are three things you value most about a person?

61. Who are five people you are closest with?

62. What is the greatest struggle you’ve overcome?

63. If you could live anywhere in the world where would it be?

64. What’s the most exciting thing that’s happened this past year?

65. Do you believe more in fate or that we are the creators of our own destinies because we are governed by free will?

66. What’s one thing that bothers you most about the world today?

67. How do you define art?

68. If you could change one thing about yourself what would it be?

69. If you could change one thing about the world what would it be?

70. Who was your favorite teacher and why?

71. What sport did you fall in love with?

72. If you could have the option of eradicating pain from your life would you choose to do so? Why or why not?

73. What was your longest relationship?

74. What would your best friend say is your best quality?

75. If you could be given the date of your death would you want to know it?

76. If you could have any animal in the world as a pet, what would it be and why?

77. If you could tell your former self one thing right now what would it be?

78. What food could you not live without?

79. Dogs or Cats?

80. What’s closest you’ve ever come to being arrested?

81. What was your best birthday?

82. What’s one thing you wish you knew how to do?

83. Where’s one place you’d like to go that you haven’t been?

84. What was the last book you read? And When?

85. If you were given a chance to explore the oceans, go to outer space or visit 50 different countries, which one you choose and why?

86. What are some of your own personal goals in the next 5 years?

87. What would you consider your greatest accomplishment so far?

88. If you could get away with anything that you do?

89. Out of the negative emotions of greed, anger, jealousy and hate, which one would you say affects you the most?

90. What’s the greatest risk you’ve ever taken?

91. Has another’s pain ever given you joy? Be totally honest.

92. If heaven is real and you died tomorrow, would you get in?

93. Do you believe in fate?

94. If you had to pick one, what is the most important value you would teach your children? Honesty, Kindness or Courage?

95. If you had the ability to erase something that you did in the past, what

would it be?

96. What song makes you unconditionally happy?

97. Name the one worst quality you cannot tolerate in a partner.

98. What fictional character do you most relate to?

99. If you got a free cheque for $5,000 right this second, how would you use it?

100. What is your biggest irrational fear? 101. Anything else you can think of! feel free to reblog and have your followers ask you the same things

#qna #q&a #100 personal questions #100 questions #ask box #inbox #ask me

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fandomout · 3 years

Text

Sam x Reader-Dean secretly not secretly hates you/is jealous of you, and Sam finds out

I've seen a lot of hate happen around me to me for no reason to be present. It inspired me to write this one. I hope no one's on either end of that. It must be exhausting to be filled with hate. Then, to be the one being attacked is obviously so detrimental to a person regardless if effort is made to be on good terms. I am sorry to anyone who has ever gone through irrational hate.

This is lots of angst, sad times, fluff, maybe some laughs. Hope you enjoy!

Warning! A very small reference to smut but no actual smut, fighting, injury, mentions of blood.

Word count: 4,601 (I was having trouble with the keep reading tab on mobile, so I took it off as to not inconvenience anyone who might end with the same issue so sorry for the long post.)

You’d just finished making Sam some breakfast. He sat down, and you drape your arms across his chest just enjoying his warmth and presence when Dean trudged up to you two. You presented a smile and queried, “Morning, Want me to make you something, Dean?”

“No. Why would I want that?” He snapped. Sam felt your hands come together and clench against him. Sam gave Dean a glare, but his voice followed playful to say, “Don’t mind Dean, Y/N. He just hasn’t had his morning coffee.” His hand comes up to rest on your cheek before he arches his neck to you with puckered lips and closed eyes. You gave in, and the kiss eased you from Dean's behavior. As you looked to Dean heading to the coffee, you couldn't help ask, “I could make you a cup of-”

“No thanks. I doubt you know how I like it.” Dean walks right past you.

With a bit of food still in Sam’s mouth, he muttered, “Just the coffee. He doesn’t usually act like that.”

“Right." You gave Sam a quick grin and let it drop when Sam turned back to his food, muttering, "He doesn’t usually act like that…" You sat next to Sam and kept the smile up.

Later in the day, when you had a chance, you went up to Dean. Instantly, you asked, “Dean, can you tell me why-”

“No.”

“Dean, you never even give me a good enough reason as to why you-”

“How about you being so annoying that you need validation?”

“Hey-You know it’s more than that. We need to coexist for Sam. We can’t be like this with him around. How would he feel if he knew you didn’t-”

“You’re going to criticize how I handle my brother?” He cocked his head at you.

“I didn’t mean-” Dean cut you off to darkly utter, “Mine. You might want to rethink that, "Y/N. I was here first and-”

“I know. That’s why I’ve been trying to make this work.”

“I’m years worth more than you’ll ever be, so I’d be more careful how you talk to me.” You wanted to speak out, but you choked up. The action left a smile and almost a skip in his step while leaving you with once again a heavy heart.

Sam, you, and Dean all headed out to finish your last hunt. A monster that was all the way from Latin legend with a name you couldn’t even begin to pronounce, called cipatli. It had the appearance of an alligator, and it had 18 mouths on it. In the past it had bodied whole small towns. Luckily, you and Sam were able to deduce that there was an old spell that could get the job done.

The creature was pretty strong though, and it had a few hostages around. You were all struggling to keep any harm from going to the innocents. All trying to get a hit at the boss when you could. It wasn’t going so well, and Dean and Sam were getting a bit overpowered; however, you knew if this was going to work that you needed there to be more focus on your side of the room, so the spell could be finished. The spell only required two people. While you’d learned the spell, your Latin was a little rough, and Sam and Dean were the real experts on that.

Suddenly, you remembered having read that the beast can be distracted by its own foot. While Sam and Dean took that fact with a grain of salt, you brought a sword from the base in hand. You did your best to cut at it’s foot. It roared in anguish, and the foot came off, which made the creature wobble. This allowed Sam and Dean to keep reciting while you moved back, and the foot spasmed in your hand. It’s sharp teeth on the leg were still itching for a bite.

Before your eyes, the beast leg came growing back, and it turned to rush toward you, which made you drop the foot. With the moment, you called to Sam and Dean, “Keep going with the spell!” Dean was quick to keep going with his words along with helping people out of the area. Currently, under attack, you’d lose your footing. You fell to the ground. You attempt to use the word as a barrier before the creature actually bites your head off. You were being bitten and bruised and did your best to stand, but the beast still managed to bang you against the wall.

The site halted Sam's words needed for the incantation, and he grabbed onto the monster's foot and called out to it while holding it and burning it; In turn, Dean had to stop short of words too. Sam watched as the monster let you go, and you dropped to the ground.

Dean stopped short at the sight in front him. You fell to the ground as the Dean went to Sam and Dean rushed over to Sam that was just thrown against the wall too, which left him unconscious.

“Don’t just stay there, The spell!” Dean said.

You jumped up and rushed to slice up the beast and recite the spell. You start fumbling with your words and Dean hollers out the right words. You finish the spell. The monster erupts in a green light with a small force along with. The force left you holding yourself up against the wall.

You weren't to worried about the need of support when you searched for Sam as your vision moving all over the place. Luckily, you catch sight of Dean helping Sam up. Then, Sam rushed over to you and asked, “Are you okay?” You groaned out in response.

”Sweetie, please say something...”

“S-Sam, are you okay?”

Sam let out a breath of relief and answered, “Fine. You?”

“It was just a little rough. I’m good.” You raise yourself, wobbly so, and Sam holds you up.

“Come on, I’ll carry you.”

“No, I can-”

"You're hurt. Let me do this...please." You nod and let him incase you in his arms since you knew he found comfort in helping you. The whole time Dean can only burn lasers into the interaction before him.

With the job being done, you all make your way to the impala. Time goes on, and your head pounded, which made you sleep. It alarmed Sam at first, but you seemed peaceful so he allowed it. Out of nowhere, Dean harshly expressed, “Y/N better not bleed all over my-” Sam scoffed and bit back, “Dean, They’re hurt. Be more considerate. It-” Dean didn’t let him finish barking back, “What the hell was that back there?”

“What?”

“You lost focus because of them.”

“Dean, they could have died.”

“You should’ve finished strong, but no-Y/N ruin-”

“Stop right there. They did just as much out there as we did.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Dean rolled his eyes. “Can’t even get a damn incantation right.”

“Dean, they did their best-”

“Their best isn’t what we need out there. They will ruin you, Sam. It’s life or-”

“Don’t even say it, you remember it took you forever to learn-”

“They are going to get you killed.”

“That’s not how it works and you know it. The evil bastards out there in the world are to blame. Don’t talk about Y/N like that again.”

"Whatever dude."

When you guys got back to the bunker, Dean darted away in silent fuming while Sam shook you awake. You sat up and licked at your dry lips before smacking your lips. Sam smiled at the action and ran a hand through your hair lovingly. He moved out of the car first, and he held a hand out to help you out of the car. You both walked into the bunker where Dean was going through the fridge already. He met eyes with the both of you. You squint your eyes out of Sam’s view awaiting Dean’s discontent with you; instead, for once, you were surprised Dean didn't say anything as he walked off to his room. The action actually made you feel better. You hoped Dean was coming around to you even a little bit if he was biting his tongue for once.

Suddenly, with nothing else to focus on, yours' and Sam’s stench hit your nose. You scratched your nose in distaste and commented, "We stink. How about a shower?" Sam gave you a smirk before replying, "To get clean I agree, hun."

He began to undress himself quickly and easily while you struggled. When Sam, who was already naked, looked back over to you, he’d seen that you’d only gotten your pants off, but you noticed there was a cut along his elbow. You call out, "Sam…", and you show it to him. He strains to take a look at it as you take out the first aid from the cabinet and start tentatively cleaning the cut. Having given more time than necessary on the cut, Sam jokes, "You’d think I was losing my whole arm from how you're treating me. I think you're overdoing it for a cut."

"Just making sure." Sam smiles knowingly and says, "Yeah. Okay. You're stalling. It's your turn." He waves you over. "Come on."

"I've got it. Thank you very much." You attempt to peel the shirt over you, but you are only met with pain. You suck in a breath in shock. Losing the smile, Sam rushes over to gently raise your shirt only to reveal a large gash and multiple bruises on the side of your abdomen. He winces for you and mutters, “Oof Y/N, that looks bad."

"Why thanks, Sam." You laugh; of course, it only causes pain. Sam notices and cradles your head in his hands and kisses your forehead.

"I think it would be better if I just mutilated this shirt off of you." You nod as the pain really sets in. He finds a pair of scissors in the first aid and starts cutting through. Now fully exposed, he could see all the damage and his eyes clouded up.

"Sam...I'm really sorry about earlier…"

"For what?"

"Slipping up on the spell."

"Come on, that hunt was pretty doomed from the beginning. Let me clean the wounds." You allow him and he continues. "It's not like you generally deal with old Latin anyway."

"Right."

"Seriously, we all did our best out there, and I know that to be truer when I am talking about you."

"Aw-” Sam quickly applies peroxide onto you, cutting you off. You exclaim ”Ow!" You give him a stern look, and he just smiles innocently not looking you in the eyes. You playfully hit his arm and ask, "Did you just compliment me to distract me?"

"No. No…" He gave you a peck on your lips and pulled away to say, "I thought of it half way through what I was saying. I really meant it. Believe in you the way you believe in me.” He rubbed your arm sweetly. In response, you lay your hand on his cheek and rub gently with your thumb, which makes him widely smile. You shrug before saying, "Alright. I'll believe you. Come on, let's shower." You grab his hand and lead him inside. You gently wash each other. Well, more Sam washing you, sadly; you're too hurt.

When you finish, Sam is quick to seal your wound. You both had dried yourselves off best you could, and you were about ready to change when Sam motions for you to stop.

"What is it, Sam?"

"Look, just-" He motions "stay" before wrapping a towel around his waist and walking out. You wait patiently for a good 30 seconds. He returned clothed in pjs. with a pair of your bottoms and single of his shirts in his hand. He held them out to you and simply told you, “Wear my shirt.”

“What for?”

“Something bigger on you will give you something not really restricting, so you won’t be in so much pain.”

“I think you just want me in your shirt, but okay I’m too tired to argue.”

"Can't argue with that last part. I am beat." He helps you get it into it and hugs onto you along with a nuzzling of his nose to your shoulder. You giggle at him, and he pulls back to pull you into a kiss, which you relay in the same intensity he was giving you. The kisses become lazier and lazier but not any less love filled. Against your lips, he says, “I’d really like to continue this more, but I am really tired.”

“Me too, but don't worry we will be back for more."

"Yes we will." Sam and you cling to each other and walk over to the bed until you both lay down.

He huddles into your chest as you have your arm around his neck and the other hand is rated on his face gently stroking it until you both fall asleep. You loved him in your arms at night when you felt safe and thought he could be safe.

In the middle of the night, you wake up with thirst creeping at your throat.

“I’ll be right back. I’m thirsty. I’ll bring you some water.”

“M’k.”

You were quick and quiet, drinking a glass of water and refilling it to bring it back for Sam. You were on your way back to the room when you suddenly saw Dean’s figure a few feet away just staring. You stumble back and hold your heart and gasp, “Jesus, Dean, why would you creep on me like that?”

“Kinda need to be good at that for the job.”

“That didn’t sound as good or cool as you thought it did.” You grinned. It seemed like he almost wanted to too instead he raised a quick brown and said, “We need to talk.”

You lay the water on the counter and gesture for him to continue. “What are you doing?”

“What do you-”

“With Sam.” He stepped forward.

“That doesn't make it any clearer-”

“You were terrible today on our hunt.”

“I know. The incantation was-”

“Bare minimum.” He stepped forward again. It was getting more tense for you the closer he got. Those two steps closing lots of space between you two due to his height.

“Look, I’m sorry. I know I messed up a bit, but I got it in the end. If we ever need it again, I’ll be ready. I promise.”

“Oh-Will you?” You were feeling attacked and found it in yourself to counter, “Yes, I will.”

“That's great and all, but what about every other issue you cause. It-”

”Issues?”

“You’re a distraction to Sam. That’s dangerous. You know it is-”

“Sam is capable of thinking for himself. I don’t think you really believe I’m worth enough to distract him.”

“Hey, you're right for once. I don’t think you're enough for him. You-”

“Dean, you may not like me, but don’t go making assumptions you can't back up. You’ve hated me for the longest time, and I don’t get why. But-” You were tearing up. He was now towering over you a scowl covering his face not liking that you were fighting back.

“You’re going to ruin him. You will ruin Sam. I can't have that. If you really care about him, you’ll leave, so there can be something better for him.”

“I-I…”

“You know it’s true. Stop kidding yourself.” He spat and walked away.

You choked up a lump in your throat not wanting to go down so that you could cough out a bit, which brought tears down. You did your best to calm down but couldn't seem to. You drank a bit of water and walked back with silent tears coming out. You laid on top of Sam holding on for dear life. You breathed in and out trying not to make a sound. However, slight hiccups, huffs of breath, and small whimpers rang out. Sometimes audible, others muffled, others silent from shear suppression.

In the morning, Sam woke up first. Seeing your puffy eyes and tear stained face, he shook you awake. “Honey, you okay?” You groaned in response being so tired. He grabbed at your face and wiped it gently. He held you gently. He scoots up to hug you close. He slouched down to be in front of you with pure worry sparkling from his beautiful eyes. You laid your right thumb on his chin gently stroking it while your other hand was running through his hair near his ear.

“What’s wrong? What happened?”

You drank him in trying to find the strength to do what you thought would be best. You whimpered out, “I-I love you.” He smiled slightly at how heartfelt the statement was. Sam reciprocated with just as much love filled words, “I love you too, but you don’t need to cry because I’m so great.” He attempted his best hair flip, which made you and him laugh; however, your laughter dialed back quickly.

“I love you, so…" You look up at him with sad eyes.

"So?"

Your mouth goes dry. You look to the door as if Dean were standing there. You shake your head at him. And say, "So, I'm gonna need a minute or so to get out of bed because Dean will make fun of me for being a big baby." You fake a smile and Sam laughs and you laugh dryly luckily masked by Sam. He nods and says, "I am okay with that. Also, don't be so dramatic. I thought you were gonna say something that would make my heart drop, I swear. Facial expression matters." He points out playfully before kissing you again. You smile and answer, "Well aware, Sam. I love you."

“I love you too. Be right back, I’ll make us breakfast in bed.”

“You don’t-” He doesn't let you finish already knowing what you're going to say. He moves up along the bed on all fours to have his face in front of you, and he says, “Want to, sweetheart.” Kissing you once more before leaving the room. You frown and hug onto yourself thinking of what could come in the future.

Later, in the day, you went through Dean’s stash of food and disposed of most of it. While it was a part of your plan to leave, you had to admit it felt good to have an upper hand on Dean for once.

Having disposed of the items, you tippy toed your way over to Dean while Sam wasn’t around, which only earned you a glare.

"I-"

"I knew you didn't love-"

"I'm gonna stop you right there. Dean, I'm a lot of things and say what you want, but I love Sam so much...so much. I don't want to hear another word about that, Dean."

"But-"

"But what? I'm still here? Well aware. Look, I need you to go to the store with Sam.”

“You bossing me around?” He challenges.

“Matter of fact, yes. I need you to go with him. I’m sure you need stuff anyway.” He put a hand on his hip and answered, “Actually, I think I’m all set.”

“Sure about that?”

“Am I sure?” Dean dryly laughed. “You really felt like poking the bear this morning.”

He shook his head in amusement, and he answered, “I’ll bite.” He walked over to his stash with a pleasant smile that dropped in an instant after he realized. You gave a knowing eyebrow and smiled his way. He cleared his throat and answered, “I’ll go. Not because you told me to, but I could use a few things. Also, I wouldn’t want you to pick out the wrong stuff. So...yeah.” Dean twiddled away from you quickly in embarrassment; however, before he could completely leave you almost wanted to admit your soon leave. A lump got caught in your throat to admit that in some way Dean was right, but he wasn’t. He’d never get that, so you waved him off and let him go.

You’d wished he’d given you a chance to make more simple memories like that, but you knew that wasn't going to happen. Dean was someone who stuck to his guns, and you would be naïve to think you would change his mind and attitudes. You couldn’t be that special as Dean has expressed vigorously.

Later on, Dean pulls up to Sam with his jacket in hand with a big smile on his face. He stares down at Sam. Instantly, Sam asks, "What?" Dean responds, ``We're going on a supply run.” , while already pushing Sam up and out of the room rushing.

"Dean!" Sam whines, stopping his arms against the door frame.

"Let's go, bub, don't have all day." Dean grins.

"Wait, I'll just go with Y/N. Let me go get them" The grin wipes Dean's face from Sam wanting your presence over him and shoves Sam out the door.

Hearing the door slam, you rush to pack your things. You felt a bit numb and empty as you thought about your life without Sam now. Shaking your head, you remind yourself that it's for him, and that is all that matters. You rush out and begin your walk. If Sam tries to come for you, you needed a car incognito. Otherwise, all of this would’ve been for nothing. You can’t help crying on your walk not really feeling it, but your body clearly knowing what to do.

As Sam and Dean arrive back to the bunker, Dean sees a smile planted on Sam’s face and asks, "Why so chipper?" Sam holds up a bag in reply.

“Am I supposed to know what that means?”

“No. I just got some snacks that Y/N likes, and I picked out some food to make dinner for the 2 of us."

"They put you up to it?"

"No. I just want to." Sam grabs one bag in hand and adds, "I'm going to give this to them now." Dean gives a shrug and simply says, “I’ll be cracking the books for a bit if you need me.” Dean smiles.

Sam looks all over, finally stopping in your shared room; however, having not found you, he calls you while he decides to put the bag of goods into your drawer to surprise you since you weren't home. He freezes up seeing the vacant clothes. He shakes his head and closes and opens the door contemplating that he saw wrong. However, coming to the inevitable distinction, he drags the drawer all the way out and let's it hit the ground.

His hand draws out his phone and calls your number. You don't answer, which causes him to clutch the bag in hand. He calls a few more times. Finally, he knows you’ve started denying the calls. Frantically, he texts , "Please answer." A lump in his throat. You reluctantly pick up his next call. Immediately, he asks, "Where are you?" His hands fidgeted as they wiped nothing off his forehead and the sides of his face. His mind is going toward the worst but hoping you'd reassure him as always.

"Sam, umm...I need to let you go…” His face dropped like a light switching off. He takes in a breath. “Why would you say that?”

“Look, I'm not the best thing for you-"

"I decide that!" He strains tears threateningly.

"You deserve better-It's not me…" He sobs out, "Baby, please...just come back. We can talk about this. You can’t just-This is all out of nowhere. What did I do? I can fix it."

"It’s not on you, Sam. I know you like to play that card-Just...The last hunt showed my worth in this relationship, so I'm doing what’s best."

"What are you talking about?!"

"Sam, I couldn't get a simple spell-"

"So what? I already told you-"

"Sam, I could get you ki-I'm gonna ruin you, so I have to do this."

"Y/N-" He can hear you cry on the other line. After saying goodbye, you hang up. In response, Sam replayed the last words as they sound familiar and something clicks in him. He rushes to find Dean wiping the discarded tears. Sam found him at the table looking for information for their latest hunt. Sam rumbled out, “Dean!”

In rage, Sam heaves the bag of package goods in his vicinity. From the force, the bags audibly pop. The action and sound made Dean jump a bit in his seat, and he tried to gain control of the situation by beginning to say, “Woah, who bit you in the a-"

Sam lifts Dean up by the shirt to the point where Dean swore he was off the ground, and Dean had never seen such a scary expression on Sam’s face.

“What did you do?!” Sam shook him enough to give him whiplash.

“Jesus-Get off-” Dean grabs onto Sam’s hands holding his shirt and tries to get him to let go, but Sam holds still.

“I am not having a conversation this way! Let go!” Sam audibly seethed almost liked he was hissing and heaved at Dean. Sam’s whole body shaking. “Great, now wha-”

“You know what this about!” Sam might as well have growled. Dean puts some space between them feeling like a fight might erupt.

“Please be more sp-” Sam's fist he kind of saw coming, but it did hit him.

“Y/N! What did you say to them?! I know it was you. Can’t get a simple spell right would’ve been a stretch, but! But! But, the I’m gonna ruin you?! I’m gonna ruin you!“ Sam pounces again, and he tackles Dean down while holding his hands down.

The hand that doesn't help restrain Dean raising into a fist in a shaky manner. Tears are starting to slip out now. Sam strains as he wants to swing, but you seem to keep him from continuing. Crying, through clenched teeth he says, “They’re gone. Gone!”

“Look, Y/N didn’t fight for you, so I did you a fav-'' Sam swiftly let's go of Dean, trying to get far far away from him and smashes down on the table until the table wobbles into bits and pieces and onto the floor.

Sam doesn't take the time to think about the table or his hands and just snarls out, “Not fighting for me?! Not-'' His voice begins cracking, which made him want to stop talking all together.

Sam points out to Dean with his lips quivering and letting out ridged and hitched breaths. At this point Sam is beyond exhausted with Dean; however, Sam points out once more to Dean all while moving back more and more as he knocked into a shelf or two on his way to the door frame, in turn knocked down some books. Sam was tired for himself, but for you? He had too defend and say, “Dean, you-you have no ide-Y/N is fighting for me! By leaving! It’s dumb and stupid that they’d think they weren’t the best thing for me, but-They think its the best thing for me because my own brother preached it was-To hear it from you! This is all your fucking fault!” Dean bites his lip and pinches his nose giving a soft grin saying, “Hey-I was just looking out for you-”

“No!” Sam pouts out and shakes his head. Scrunching his face in discontent. “No...You didn’t like that someone else could be there for me in ways you couldn't. Fucking jealous. You couldn’t let me be happy? After everything? For what? Oh, I know. To not be alone. Shocker there. You’ve done a lot of things, but this? I just-can’t-Won’t. How did you think I would feel about this?! Seriously, you're not stupid. So?! You went behind my back-You really chalked it up to selfishness on this one.” Sam dismisses Dean with a flick of the hand and storms off.

Hope your day gets better

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tomtenadia · 3 years

Text

Scary feelings - Rowaelin month day 1

Prompt: I just realised I am desperately in love with you

(I suck at titles)

----

Rowan Whitethorn was not a fan of crowds. Or people in general.

It was a Friday night and his flat was far too crowded for his own tastes, but he and his colleagues would take turns in organising get togethers and eventually his time came around. People might call him a loner and a grump but he just loved peace and quiet.

“Come on grampa, have fun.” Shouted Fenrys across the living room with a bottle of beer in his hands, offering one to hm as well. Rowan sighed heavily and joined the blonde man and plopped on the sofa ignoring the ruckus around him. He had already enough.

He was busy hating the evening when someone sat at his side: the smell of lemon and verbena familiar to his nostrils. He turned and saw Aelin sprawled on the couch and a beer in her hand. Most of the people were teachers working in the same high school. Rowan was the biology teacher and Aelin had recently been hired to be the new PE teacher after the previous one retired. She was friendly with everyone and he was positive that every single male teacher had a crush on her. She was gorgeous. Rowan had no issues admitting that. He had seen her once in shorts after one of her classes. Legs perfectly tanned and going on for days. Hair gold as the sun and the most amazing turquoise eyes he had ever seen, with a ring of gold in them. He had slammed against the wall and his students laughed at him that day. He had been dumbstruck, and in every other occasion they had to interact he had to work very hard to keep his cool. They were colleagues, they had to be professional.

“Good to see that you know how to chill, Whitethorn.” Her voice broke his reverie and when he turned he saw her taking a drink of her beer, her head tilted back and her neck exposed. Rowan stood quickly and moved away. What was happening to him? Why all of a sudden he felt the urge to lean forward and kiss the column of her neck, tracing his tongue along it and nip at the sweet spot at its base?

“You okay, man?” Asked Aedion who had noted him running away like a possessed person “did my cousin made lewd jokes again?”

Rowan leaned against the wall and shook his head “no, she is fine. I just needed to stand a bit. This is too much for me.”

Aedion patted his shoulder and left him alone and slowly his gaze returned to Aelin. She was talking to Fenrys and laughing at something that the young TA had said and something irrational rose in him. Damn, was he jealous?

She must have felt him staring because her head slowly turned and her gaze landed on him and the smile she gave him almost stopped his heart. He tried to smile back and failed and saw her raise an eyebrow at him as if in question at his reaction. Slowly he tried to regain control of his emotions, that was something he was good at, appear like an emotionless bastard. Wasn’t that the reason Lyria dumped him for another man? Because he was incapable of showing love and was just a block of ice who pretended to have feelings? He pushed back from the wall and walked to Lorcan. If Rowan had a reputation of being cold, no one beat Lorcan. He was the math teacher and probably one of the most hated ones at that.

“You look a mess.” Said the dark-haired man.

“You look like you are having fun instead. Very unusual for you.”

“I got my eyes on the small brunette near Galathynius, do you know her?”

“I think she is a friend of Aelin. She is called Elide if I remember the introductions.”

Lorcan took a sip of his beer and kept staring at the woman “well, she is definitely my type.” And with a powerful move Lorcan pushed away from the wall.

“Don’t fuck up.” Said Rowan to the man while he was walking away. Lorcan was not the most stable when it came to relationships.

He was alone on the balcony to enjoy fresh air and peace when a person joined him and leaned against the rail at his side.

Lemon verbena. He inhaled the scent and kept looking straight at Orynth at night.

“You seem off, Whitethorn.”

“I am okay,” he sipped the last of his beer and kept ignoring her, afraid of what he would do if he stared at her.

“Looks like the rumour are true.” She turned and her back was now against the rail, her arms at her chest.

He allowed himself a peek and his chest tightened. She had a green dress with a puffy skirt and she was breathtaking. A deep urge to kiss rose in him.

“What rumours?” He said in a gruff voice.

“That you are a loner and a bit of a cranky old bastard.”

Rowan chuckled “I love my reputation. It keeps people away.”

“Who hurt you? Who made you like this?” She asked, moving a step closer to him.

Rowan stood motionless and stared in the depth of her blue eyes. How could she know? Only a handful of people knew how Lyria had crushed him.

“She doesn’t know what she gave up.” Commented Aelin quietly.

Now confusion was clear on his face.

Aelin leaned forward and finished her beer “It’s just a mask. How do I know? Because I have one too. I am the happy easy going PE teacher who is lovable and chatty.” And her tone changed all of a sudden “my fiancee dumped me a week before our wedding. He found himself a newer version. It broke me and having a mask makes it easier to deal with people.” She confessed and Rowan could not look away from the pain in her face and tried to restrain himself from hugging her.

“Lyria left me for another man. Apparently I am incapable of love.”

Aelin gently took his hand “You just haven’t found the right person yet.” She squeezed it and then walked away leaving him alone once more. His heart raced madly in his chest

Going back to work after the party had been tragic. Rowan had spent the weekend thinking about Aelin and what she had told him. Thinking as well at the pesky feeling that had slowly started to creep up. Because the more he thought about it, the more he realised that he was falling for her. He had been since the beginning when she joined the team of professors. She was incredible, and funny and apparently very caring as well. The previous day he had seen her in the school yard consoling two young teenagers who were distressed and crying in her arms. He had followed the scene from the distance and that’s when it hit him. He was in love with her. Madly. He had tried to deny the feeling for a while and it worked until that damned party. Until that moment on the balcony.

He walked back to his class and sat at his desk trying to ignore the pounding of his chest. Pushing away the realisation that his feeling for Aelin went deeper than he thought.

A deep sigh of relief left him when the next class walked in the room.

Later he was on his way to the break room, a book in his hands and his messenger bag strapped on his shoulder when he crashed into someone.

“What the heck.” Said the outraged female voice.

Rowan looked down and saw Aelin crouched down collecting scattered papers. He kneeled quickly and helped her “I am sorry.”

“Do you always walk and read?”

“Most times,” he smiled “I am usually better at knowing what goes around me.” He passed her the last few papers and stood. Aelin was now in front of him “come, have lunch with me.”

Rowan was taken aback by the offer. He made a step for the teachers room, but Aelin grabbed his hand “come with me, I know a better place.”

Silently he followed her, realising that he would probably follow her no matter what.

Hand in hand they walked around the ground until Aelin stopped in a quiet corner of the yard and sat under an oak tree. It was a nice spring day and the weather was turning warm.

Aelin sat down, back against the trunk and he stood for a moment, unsure of what to do next. Eventually he took a seat at her side and took out his lunch from the bag: a chicken salad that contained more vegetables than chicken.

Aelin looked at the tub and its contents in disgust.

“That’s why you are always grumpy… if my lunch looked that sad, I’d be grumpy to.” And she extracted a plastic tub containing an obscene portion of lasagna “my mum made it for me the other day. I went to hers for lunch and she cooked for an army.”

She stabbed the food with a fork and then turned it to him “try it.”

Rowan looked at her puzzled.

“Come on Whitethorn, I don’t have the plague. Give it a go.”

Rowan caved and took the bite she offered. The food was amazing and found himself smiling in satisfaction.

“Look, I made you smile and it made you all the way more handsome.”

His eyes popped open in surprise at her comment.

Aelin laughed and the sound of her happiness brought him joy. He’d do anything to see her smile. Her face would lit in up in the most stunning way. Gods, he was in far, far deeper than he thought.

“What?” She asked at her expression.

“You are the most stunning woman I ever met.” He said and then realised that he had uttered those words out loud. Shit.

She smiled again and took another bite and Rowan decided it was now or never. He had to tell her and also brace for a crushing rejection. There was no way she was into him. She could have every man, why would she choose him?

He cleared his voice “I am in love with you,” he admitted, looking in her eyes “I think I have been for a while but it dawned on me at that party at my flat. You are stunning, intelligent, fierce, caring and funny and I think and I am totally and utterly in love with you.”

She placed her plastic container on the side and he thought he had just ruined everything.

“Go on,” was all she said “let it all out.”

“I promised myself never again. It was not worth it. But then you arrived and threw that to the winds.” He ran a hand through his hair “I was even jealous of you talking to Fenrys at the party. That’s why I kept to myself. I could finally put a label on my feelings and it scared me. I was never good at dealing with emotions and probably everyone is right, I am a cold heartless bastard.”

“Maybe,” she said brushing his hair “but in front of me I see a man who can be very capable of love if the right person comes along.”

Rowan was again speechless and his eyes closed on instinct at the feeling of her hand brushing his hair.

“Say it again.”

His eyes popped open in a question and Aelin nodded.

“I am desperately in love with you.”

She smiled again and his breath hitched.

“And what are we going to do about that professor Whitethorn?”

“Maybe I can take you out to dinner?”

Aelin leaned forward to kiss his cheek “I’d love that very much.”

And in that instant he realised that for her… for her he could try again.

#rowan whitethorn #rowaelinmonth #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #aelin galathynius #prompt

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pascalpanic · 3 years

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Caffeine Rush: Chapter Eight / Ristretto

W/C: 5.1k (holy shit)

Warnings: language, arguments and tears, lots of feelings, Javier learns how to talk his feelings out, SMUT 18+, dirty talk, open discussion of sexual themes, oral sex (m and f receiving), protected PIV sex, f e e l i n g a

A/N: I went off with this one. hope y’all like it too ;)

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Ristretto: espresso made with about half the amount of water but the same amount of coffee as a regular espresso. ristretto in Italian means "restricted," or that the amount of water used to brew the espresso is restricted.

Javier’s on the couch, lying down with his back to the living room. You’re not sure if he’s awake or not; you can’t really see his face. It doesn’t matter. You’re a little hurt by the fact that he left you in your sleep to rest alone on the couch again. You thought you heard the shower running late last night, while you tossed in your sleep, and it seems that it wasn’t just a dream. Javier’s thick hair is still damp, leaving a wet spot on the pillow beneath his head.

You move about the kitchen, getting something to eat, and he doesn’t stir. He must be asleep, you conclude. Wrapped in a robe and leaning against the counter, you consider what you’ll say to him when he wakes. When you’re not even sure what you’re feeling, it’s hard to decide on the proper thing to say.

Maybe he planned on coming back to your bed before you woke. Maybe you moved too much in your sleep. Whatever the reason is, you feel slighted and offended. The whole time he’s been here, you’ve worried he doesn’t like you as much as you like him. Hell, you’ve said you love him and he didn’t say it back.

The insecurity begins to wrap itself around you like the warm material you wear. It’s stifling. What you want most is to walk over to the couch and shake him awake, to chew him out and demand to know his reasoning. But you know it’s stupid. There’s surely a valid reason, and this isn’t even that big of a deal anyway. The conflict of anger towards him and towards yourself makes you give a little grunt of frustration before you stalk off and back to bed. Maybe he’ll come back.

Sleep isn’t coming back, no matter how hard you try. Tossing and turning, you find yourself laying on your back and staring at the ceiling, your sheets strewn around your body from your fitful attempt to sleep again. Maybe it’s been ten minutes; maybe it’s been an hour. Your body is far too worked up to sleep, even as your brain commands it to relax, as you remind yourself that you’re being irrational.

Footsteps come from the living room. Javier’s awake. For now, you try to fake being asleep, pulling the blankets around yourself and rolling onto your side, facing away from the door. The footsteps make their way to the bathroom then into your bedroom, walking over that creaky spot in the floor that makes the boards groan.

You think you can hear him getting dressed; the drawer of your dresser opens, the one with a squeaky wheel, the one you cleared for Javier to use while he stays here. There’s a rustling of clothes. He’s changing into something other than his pajamas. There’s a little light in the room, the early hours of a December morning filtering their dull glow through your curtain.

He must still think you’re asleep or he’d be talking to you, you hope. The movement stops for a moment before footsteps fall on the floor, making their way closer to your bed. He stops and looks down at you, watches your presumed sleeping form before he kisses your forehead softly. His lips are gentle against your skin. The tickle of his mustache makes you want to chuckle, to sit up and kiss him properly. But as quickly as he bends down, he’s just as quickly gone from your room, shutting the door behind him.

You sit up and groan in annoyance. You can hear the front door open and close, and with that, Javier is gone.

That irrational part of your brain is worried he’s leaving permanently. Why else would he slip out while you’re still asleep? He’s yet to go anywhere, really, without you showing him the way around here. Then your rational brain takes over: he left all of his belongings besides the clothes on his back and his wallet when he left the apartment. He’s surely not going to leave everything behind.

You’d planned to spend the day doing something with him. The two of you hadn’t exactly decided on what, but it was implied that since you aren’t working today, you’d spend the time with him. It’s still somewhat early, you roll over and groan as the alarm clock reads it to be 8:00 AM. There’s still time for him to come back; maybe he’s just getting the both of you coffee.

It’s pure boredom, like watching paint dry. You want him to come back. You want to ask him why he didn’t stay in your bed last night, why he left this morning. Why he’s been gone increasingly long. The clock in your kitchen ticks, ringing into the living room with its annoying precision. Each little click of the second hand makes you want to smash that damn thing.

The hours pass and pass until it’s late afternoon. You’ve done nothing all day, waiting for Javier to return. You debate several times whether or not you should start a task, but then conclude he’ll probably be back soon. So you wait, watching the daytime television, reading a book, washing dishes. It’s all menial tasks, and eventually it’s 4:00 PM when he returns.

When he opens the door, his eyes find yours and his face falls. “Hi.”

“Where the hell were you?” You ask, standing and walking to him, arms folded beneath your breasts. “I have been waiting around all day for you. You’ve been gone for how long and didn’t even call or tell me you were leaving.”

“I didn’t leave a note?” He asks, face showing his confusion. “I thought I left a note.”

“No, you didn’t, Javier,” you tell him sharply, voice snappy and quick. “Why were you gone all day?”

“I could’ve sworn I left a note,” he mutters, his eyes not meeting yours.

“Javi,” you snap. “Just… where were you?” He doesn’t look at you, but then he does and his eyes show the fear and terror of an ashamed child. He mutters something you can’t hear.

“So the man who’s never held back a single thought is silent?”

“Avoiding you!” He finally bursts, tearing off his jacket and walking into the kitchen. His back is to you, too flustered to even look at you. “You are driving me fucking crazy and you don’t even know it.”

The words break your heart. You freeze in place and feel heat pricking in your eyes. It’s your worst fear. “I am?”

Javier turns at the weak sound of your voice, the panic setting in his chest. “No, no, not like that.” He rushes over to you, putting a hand on each of your forearms. “No, hey, look at me, baby. That is not what I meant. Not…”

“Then what?” You ask, face hot and body nearly trembling. You’ve never heard Javier mad before and you hate it, hate the way his voice sounds when it’s laced with anger and hate it even more when you can feel guilt in his tone. “What other way is there?”

He’s quiet for a moment as he collects his thoughts, and you’re just about to twist out of his arms and slap his face before he speaks. “Your… body. You.”

“What?” You ask again, desperately confused.

“God, you don’t even get it,” he laughs and stands up straight again, running his hands through his hair. “Do you not see how fucking hot you are? Do you not feel the way I’m literally aching for you?” He walks towards the couch and you follow. You’re about to ask the same question again before he turns to you and bites his lip. “I cannot get my fucking mind off how hot you are and it’s making me go fucking insane, baby.” He takes one of your hands, kissing your knuckles. Anything more intimate would make him burst.

The words make your body flush with a different heat, one building in your core first. “And how is that?”

“Do you know why I’ve been sleeping on the couch?” He asks, sitting down on the couch and you follow him. You shake your head. “Because of how bad I want to fuck you. I knew if I got in that bed with you I’d get turned on against my own will, and… I’m a fucking coward. I should’ve asked what you want, what-”

You cut him off. “Ask me now, Javi. Do it.”

He breathes deeply then looks at you. “I don’t even know how to ask it.”

“Try it.”

Another deep breath. “Do you want to…. are you ready to…” he winces at himself. Javier is one of the most widely known playboys in Bogotá and yet he can’t bring himself to ask you this. He can’t pull out his seductive voice because it’s you and he doesn’t want to fuck this up. “What do you feel for me? Are you… attracted to me… sexually?”

Looking at him in his eyes, staring into the beautiful brown, you force your thoughts to converge into something you can verbalize into words. This isn’t what you wanted from the day, but you suppose this talk had to come. “Well, I… I love you, Javi. You know that, right?” You ask, cupping his face.

He takes your palm and kisses it, nodding. “But… I don’t know if you really know who I am if you think that I don’t want you. I thought I’ve made it abundantly clear. I’m not some innocent little virginal thing, Javi. I’ve been thinking the same thing about you. That whole thing has got to be in your head, because I am extremely attracted to you. You’re so fucking hot, truly. I haven’t initiated anything because I’ve been waiting for you to. I thought you would. Hell, I would’ve slept with you on the first date if I didn’t have work in the morning,” you chuckle, though it’s hard to be humorous now, with the weight of a sob stuck in your throat. “You should’ve just asked me.”

Javier nods as he listens to your words, processing and internalizing the meaning behind them. He should’ve, and he’s about to say it but you speak. “Now… please. Tell me what you feel for me. Don’t hold it back.”

He gulps and looks at your hand, still wrapped in both of his, collecting his own scattered thoughts. “Well… you know I haven’t had a committed relationship in what, ten years? And I left that woman at the altar.” You’ve heard this story. He told you in full detail, everything that happened with Lorraine. “Then I went to Colombia. I’ve… God, I’ve lost track of how many women I fucked. Just whoever’s there, you know? But I never got to have a relationship with any of them, because I… well, I was scared. I didn’t wanna fuck up again. And Colombia’s not the place to have a love life anyway, not when you’re a government gringo trying to take down the guy a lot of the people actually fucking liked at first.”

“Javi,” you remind him. “Please… about me.”

“Sorry,” he chuckles awkwardly. “I guess… I wanted to fuck you at first, but I forced myself to think that I didn’t want to, so I didn’t ruin it and feel like I did with all the girls back there. Maybe... it’s been a long time since I was quizzed on it, but wasn’t the psych term for it called projection? When you imagine someone else having your feelings so you can deny that they’re your own?”

You nod, leaning against him and setting your head on his shoulder.

“I’ll stop the spiel. I’m being a pretentious asshole with it. I think you’re really attractive and I’ve been getting sexually frustrated because I thought you didn’t want to fuck me. But… I guess you do.”

This lets a real laugh resonate from your chest. “I do,” you chuckle, nuzzling in closer. “So… why didn’t you stay in my bed last night?”

He groans. “Fuck. You were just so close. I could feel your body and I felt disgusting for thinking the things I did about you. God, you had my arm squished between your tits, and I could feel you through your panties and pajama shorts… ”

“Is that why I heard the shower?”

“I’m 40 goddamn years old, and you’re so fucking hot you made me get turned on just by cuddling up to me,” he chuckles and kisses your head. “Like a teenager. I tried a cold shower to get rid of it but I couldn’t. So I took care of things myself and went to the couch to sleep because I felt that I didn’t deserve to sleep next to you.”

His words melt your heart. “Big sexy manwhore was too afraid to seduce me?” you tease.

“It was two in the morning. And, like I said, projection,” he chuckles.

“We’re dating, right? Together. You’re allowed to think about me like that, Javi,” you remind him, turning his chin to look at you. “In fact, I want you to.”

You’ve finally broken his will. The words do something to him, the way you said it… I want you to. For the first time with you knowing, his mind wanders and his eyes trace from your face to the soft skin of your neck, to your collarbones and the swell of your breasts. “I can do that,” he murmurs, feeling a chill rush through his body.

God, you could moan at the sound of his voice alone. “You’ve been holding back this long,” you mutter back, hands finding his shoulders as you pull yourself to straddle him. “Let go, Javi. Please.”

He’s so fucking close to doing it. His willpower is hanging by a thread, but he wants to be certain. “You’re sure?”

“Please,” you ask, the desperation in your voice emphasized by the look in your eyes, the way your hips involuntarily rock against his. You’ve never had a man look at you with the hunger and the ferocity in Javier’s eyes. You’ve never driven a man to jerk off in the shower at the thought of you, and it gives you a feeling of power and confidence to know he wants you like this.

Within a split second, the power is no longer yours. Javier takes your lips against his, kissing you with a passion and a fire burning in his chest. It’s harsh and sloppy but perfect, and you immediately submit to his wishes, grinding down onto his lap and moaning into his lips.

You’re too damn perfect. Your lips against Javier’s make him moan helplessly, the way you tug on his bottom lip with a teasing nibble and moan again as his tongue pushes into your mouth. You break away to look at him, to admire how far gone he is just from getting to grind on you, like a teenager again. “Can I show you how much I want you, Javi?” You ask, letting your voice drop lower and your tongue dart out to clean your messy lips.

He groans, unable to form words. He nods frantically, and you smile a little. Giving him one last sloppy kiss, you stand from his lap and get on your knees in front of him. “Is this okay, baby?” you ask, your fingers already undoing his belt buckle and sliding it out.

“Fuck, yes,” he groans, and you can already see how hard he is through the jeans he wears. He helps you, unbuckling and unzipping the pants before lifting his hips to work them down to his knees, where he knows you can take them from there.

Daring to tug down the waistband of his boxers, you encircle his dick with your fingers and pull it out. You shudder at the sight, biting your lip and shifting your hips against the floor. He’s above average length, but the thickness makes you squirm in anticipation. “Javi,” you breathe, wetting your lips and gulping. You look up at him with big eyes. “You’re gonna make my jaw hurt,” you flirt, and the enthusiasm on your face makes him twitch in your hands.

It’s been a while since you’ve done this, but your excitement more than makes up for it. You reach up and undo the buttons of his shirt, while he lifts his hips again and wriggles his boxers off of his waist and thighs. Pushing the fabric aside, you’re exposed to a bit of pudge and his strong torso. God, is it awful that your first thought is to lick it? Who fucking cares, you think before you dive in, kissing his abdomen and tracing your tongue across the skin above his navel.

“You’re gonna fucking kill me, baby,” he grunts and his head falls back against the couch, eyes slipping shut.

The taste of his skin is everything you want and need, the slight saltiness from sweat making your own core ache harder. Your hands grip his sides as you lavish his stomach and abs with kisses and licks, desperate and unable to get enough. You nip at his soft stomach and he hisses out a sharp exhale. He likes that; noted.

“God, I fucking love you, Javi,” you groan and grab his thighs, spreading them further so you can squeeze closer between them.

“Fuck, you too,” he groans and bites his lip as you press kisses to the base of his shaft, then smother the base with kisses and licks. It feels good, but nowhere as good it would be if you- “oh, dulzura,” he grunts as you finally give attention to the tip, pressing kisses to the sensitive skin before swirling your tongue around it.

He lets himself lean back and enjoy it. He’s received a lot of head in his day, from a lot of women, but what makes this the best he’s ever fucking had is the adoration in your eyes, the look of mischief as you trace his frenulum with your tongue just to see him squirm. You’re enjoying it just as much and that’s half of it.

His fingers dig into your hair, his back arching when you do something different. The next time you pull away, he keeps your head back, off of him. “Your bed. Wanna fuck you, pretty girl, wanna make love to you.” Your face is desperate, yearning for him endlessly. “Make love to me later. Fuck me first.”

The words go to Javier’s already aching dick. He stands quickly, pulling you up with him and lifting your shirt, tossing it aside and letting his hands finally grab your breasts through your bra.

“Thought you said bed.”

“Give me a second. Take your pants off while I do this.”

“Do what- Javi!” Javier unclasps your bra, which buckles in the front, and shoves it off, desperate to see your tits. “Mm, fuck,” he murmurs, admiring the things that have been taunting him since he very first saw you. Javier’s fingers tug at your nipples, pulling them to their hardened state, before pressing your tits together and burying his face in them.

He returns the favor of you admiring his body, licking and nipping and kissing at the soft skin, kneading them with expert hands. You’re too in the moment, enraptured by the way he works your breasts, but you come back to consciousness for a moment and wriggle off your pants and panties like he asked.

His tongue is masterful, swirling and licking your sensitive nipples in a way that makes you ache to wonder what that same motion would feel like between your legs. The feeling is too good, Javier adoring your body and practically worshipping it. He breaks away with a face slick from his own spit on your breasts and smirks. “Now bed. Wanna see if you taste just as good somewhere else.”

“Fuck, Javi,” you groan and pull him into a heated kiss, frenzied and passionate. You break away but keep him close and walk him to your bedroom, flopping on your back on the bed and waiting for him to follow.

He does, getting on the bed’s edge and lying flat on his stomach, spreading your thighs and nestling between them. “Oh, fuck,” you whimper as you realize he’s going to return the favor.

His lips ghost along the soft skin of your inner thigh, sucking bruises into the flesh that make you squirm and moan. His hair is thick but so beautifully soft beneath your fingers, and you bury your hands in it as he gets closer to where you want him. “Please, Javi,” you murmur.

“Anything for you, abejita,” he chuckles and licks a hot stripe from your entrance to your clit, latching on the sensitive bud and swirling his tongue over it. “So wet,” he muses, your folds muffling the sounds. It translates to a vibration between your legs that makes you shiver again.

He takes his time with you, letting his mouth explore every little millimeter of the sensitive skin there. He laps through your folds, your own wetness and his spit making it painfully easy for it to glide through. Finally, when he brings his fingers into it, you make a groan of relief. His fingers trace your entrance, slowly, around the rim. Teasing. “Javi, if you made my jaw sore, you better get me ready down there,” you laugh, love drunk on this man, on Javier Peña and everything the man has to offer.

“‘m trying,” he murmurs, slowly slipping a finger in and marveling at the glide. “God, you’re so tight,” he shivers, his own hips rocking into the bed at the thought of his dick buried inside this. “Gonna take me so well, aren’t you?”

His finger curls softly, experimentally, and you know you’re in for it now when it immediately hits the spongy spot inside. “Holy- oh fuck, Javi,” you pant, one hand gripping the sheets. “Right there.”

Javier smirks. “I’ve barely done anything to you. Look at this.” He slips a second finger in and you groan again, your head falling back into the pillow and your back arching.

There’s the late afternoon sunlight coming in through the slats in your shades, falling onto your bare breasts and Javier’s muscular back. The light is fading, the December sunset already approaching. God, he looks so good doing this, all you can do is whine his name again and again.

It doesn’t take long once he has two fingers inside of you, working them against that perfect spot and bringing his lips back to praise your clit. He can feel your body tense, your thighs tighten around his head. God, you could probably crush him like this, maybe smother him, but he can’t think of a better way to go. This is how he wants to die someday: his head buried between your thighs, tasting the most divine thing his tongue has ever had the pleasure of meeting.

You come with little fanfare, but Javier can feel it in the way your body moves. Your thighs spread wider, shaking, and your pussy clenches around his fingers. Your back arches and the soft noises you’ve been making slowly dissipate as it all fades.

He works you through it then looks at you with a smirk, licking his lips and the bottom of that goddamn mustache. “That thing is fitting,” you tease, stroking his damp mustache. “You have a tongue like a damn porn star.”

“Then just wait until you feel what else I have for you,” he teases, crawling over you until his hands are on either side of your head. You laugh and reach up to kiss him, groaning at the taste of your own tang on his lips. He’s such a fantastic kisser. You could just make out with him for hours, admiring the softness of his lips even when they’re slightly chapped.

Reaching over blindly, you fumble for your nightstand and reach into the drawer to find a box of condoms. You have to break away, but you return to him with one and hold it up, grinning. He snatches it from you and steals one last kiss before tearing it open with his teeth, tossing the packet aside and rolling the condom down over himself.

Javi kisses you again, deeply. Meaningfully. “You sure about this, little bee?” He asks, voice blown with lust, painfully hard from denying himself sensation while eating you out.

“I haven’t wanted anyone more,” you smirk. “But remember what I said earlier?” You tease, cocking an eyebrow and tracing your fingers across his jaw.

“That you love me?” He asks, genuinely confused.

“That we can take our time later. Now I want you to fuck me, please, baby.”

The words send a shiver down his spine and he nods. “If that’s what you want. I… I won’t hold back.”

“Give me your worst,” you smirk and kiss him hard.

He wastes no time. He lines himself up to your entrance and pushes in, burying himself to the base and grimacing at how good it feels, how much effort it takes for him not to lose it. He takes a minute, taking deep breaths. “You feel okay?”

He’s thick. There’s no denying it. Even with his fingers before, this is a different stretch. It’s aching but in a good way, in a way that makes you desperate to feel it. “Feel so fucking good already,” you admit, kissing his neck.

Once he’s ready, he begins. He starts with a rhythm that already makes you lose your senses, desperately clinging to the only thing you can think of or feel: him. His dick is large, and presses against just the spot that made you lose it minutes ago. His thrusts are not gentle, but rough and grinding. You can’t get enough.

His pace picks up. His hips snap into yours, moving a thick thumb to circle your sensitive clit with the pad of his finger. “You feel so fucking good, lil’ bee,” he breathes. His Texan accent from his upbringing is more present when he’s sleepy, you’ve noticed, but also when he’s extra turned on. Fuck, it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve heard.

“God, fuck,” you whine and cling to him, wrapping a leg around his waist and crying out as that allows him to get even deeper inside of you. “Javier, please baby,” you mutter, your hands frantically grabbing at his muscular back.

“You got it,” he grunts, each syllable in time with a thrust that pushes into you deeper and deeper. Your nails dig into his back unintentionally and he whines at the feeling, the pain and pleasure mingling perfectly. “Fuck, pretty girl. So fuckin’ good, taking me so perfectly. Like you were meant for this, huh?”

Whatever sense you have left agrees. You must’ve been. The universe put you two together in a surprising way so that you could feel this heavenly joining of bodies, so you can make each other see the farthest stars in the galaxy. “Yeah, oh Christ, Javi,” you groan as his fingers work in the opposite direction on your clit. “Harder, please.”

“I’ll try,” he chuckles dryly, wrapping your other leg around his waist. The position keeps him connected to you even when his thrusts nearly pull him fully out of you. “You like that?”

“Fucking love it, Javi,” you nod and grind your hips back against him and his hand. The friction makes him hiss, desperate for anything you’ll give. “Think I’m close. Think I’m gonna- oh,” you whimper, leaning up to grab his face and pull it down to yours.

He knows you’re coming quick. His lips remain on yours, determined to feel it when it happens. And it does fast- before long, you’re clamping down on him like a fucking vise and you make the prettiest little sounds into his mouth, muffled by his wandering tongue. He groans back, your thoughts passing through mouths rather than ears.

“Good girl,” he groans next to your ear. “Fuck. You make me feel so fucking good, knew you would.” He thrusts harder, and you’re becoming oversensitive but you couldn’t care less. He’s made this all about your pleasure, and he deserves to use you now.

The corners of your eyes prick with overstimulation. “Javi, baby, wanna feel you when you cum,” you beg of him. You dig your nails into his back and it’s the final straw- his hips slow and stutter as he shoots his load into the condom, moaning your name again and again.

When he comes down, he nearly collapses on you, his body like lead as the adrenaline works its way through his veins. He’s all fucked out, exhausted from how long he held back to pleasure you as much as he could. “Mm, baby,” you giggle, digging your fingers into the hair on the back of his head. His face is nestled into your neck and you smile, kissing his temple. He makes a soft noise of content. “Don’t fall asleep or the condom is gonna stick to your penis,” you tease lovingly.

With a groan, Javier sits back on his heels. He makes his way to the bathroom and tosses it in the trash, then gets a warm washcloth to wipe you down with. He takes good care of you, leaving kisses behind the warm water-soaked fabric. He finishes with a kiss on your lips that makes you giggle.

“You’re too good to me. What happened to the slut of Bogotá I’ve heard about?”

“He died with Escobar, maybe?” He chuckles, returning to your bed with you. “Or maybe I forgot to pack him. I don’t know.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you chuckle. “I absolutely adore this one.” You snuggle into his side, against his flushed and tacky skin.

He kisses your forehead, then the bridge of your nose, then your lips. “You really are something, abejita.”

“You know, you’re allowed to call me babe and baby too,” you tease softly, your voice barely a whisper with Javier’s face next to yours.

“Those are generic. Little bee is ours.”

His words melt your heart, making your eyes slip shut and your lips curve into a smile in content. You rest your head on his chest and take a deep sigh.

“I really want to fall asleep, but it’s only 5:15,” Javier sighs.

“How about dinner? Are you hungry?” You ask, tracing your fingers across his soft abdomen and gentle tummy.

He thinks for a second. “How about we get delivery?”

“You read my mind, Peña,” you chuckle and place a soft kiss on his pec. “I love you.”

He takes a deep breath, forces all of the fear to leave his body with the carbon dioxide. “I love you too, abejita.”

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awsuntanz · 3 years

Text

a ramble about helium chapter 4 (and dakota’s wonderful characterization)

its 4am, forgive me for any mistakes. i’ve never written anything like this before, aha.

All of these quotes are from Chapter 4 of @heytherestilinski‘s fic Helium!

The way Dakota (the author) fleshes out conflict and allows their painfully realistic characterization to shine is so...perfect. I find myself heavily relating to Dream, George, and even Sapnap at times.

Here are some lines that I didn’t think would stick out to me (but did):

After a quiet moment, to his soaring heart’s approval, George speaks up again.

This entire kitchen scene portrays that feeling of having a conversation with someone who matters to you. Whether it would classify as something important to someone else or not is irrelevant- to you, in that moment, it feels like you’re holding the world. It’s soft, and tender. You don’t want it to fall flat. You don’t want to let it go. (This scene may or may not have encouraged me to say goodnight to a special someone I was thinking of while reading this).

Sapnap dumps the responsibility of the cart back onto Dream. As he walks past him, he says, “You suck at flirting.”

I really enjoyed the stupid banter between Dream and Sapnap at the grocery store. It not only served as some nice comic relief that kept our guard down before the conflict at the end of the chapter, but it’s also something us readers would definitely hear from (and say to) our friends in real life. Good comic relief is something that eases us in naturally and allows us to immerse ourselves and enjoy the moment while maintaining that element of surprise that keeps us interested :)

He turns away from Dream. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

Dream may be less controlled in his emotions and impulses, but he is very open in sharing them. George has more of a filter on everything. Controlled. Not wanting to push Dream (or maybe even himself) off the edge.

“You wanted to this morning,” he says, low.

“Yeah, because we were in your house, not the middle of the grocery store.”

Rejection. Denial. George’s response holds some truth to it, but comes off as a haphazard excuse at the same time. He doesn’t appreciate the way Dream pushes for that direct confrontation and frankness when it comes to approaching their situation (and honestly? Neither would I).

George halts to face him again, with a half-whisper, “Not exactly the best place to ambush me, Dream.”

I like the use of the word ambush here because of the strong negative connotation it implies. It’s as if he’s saying that Dream sought out to make him uncomfortable. As if this was pre-planned and intentional, and not another one one of his silly impulses.

Dream stares at him wildly. “I didn’t ambush you. You brought up your expectations, not me.” His voice grows tight. “Are you seriously still going to act like this?”

We’ve had enough of “Dream, why? Dream, no! Dream, quit being an idiot!” from the readers. This time, he takes that blame and tosses it over to George instead. Conflict grows stronger.

“Like I’m—I’m this stumbling idiot who forces you into every bad situation,” he says. “It’s exhausting, and doesn't make me feel good about myself, and—” He runs a trembling hand through his hair. “It’d be nice if you took some responsibility, for once. That’s all.”

God, I’m so guilty of how George does this to Dream. Taking responsibility isn’t very fun when you feel like the other person is constantly making irrational, immature, and as we’ve established earlier, overall impulsive decisions when it comes to what they say and do. We assume that the other person should be able to understand us- We’ve put up with them for all this time, haven’t we?

Realizing that having a mentality like this is toxic and draining to the other person as well is... difficult. It’s difficult to remember that they’re trying, and that they genuinely care about you too. The very same things that make them irritating are what make them a loving and caring person as well. It takes growth from the both of you to learn and understand each other. And growth takes time.

It’s 4AM at the time I’m writing this, and I’m far too tired to quote the entire phone scene, so I’m going to assume you’ve read it.

A few lines from George:

“Can...can you stay on, for a bit? Can we just talk?”

“Please, Dream.”

“I just want to hear your voice.”

A few lines from Dream:

“George.”

“Stop,” he warned. “Stop that.”

“Don’t say that.” // “What is wrong with you?”

“Fuck, George. Why are you doing this to me?”

The reason Dream brings this up is because it highlights a moment where their general character roles in the fic are switched. In this scenario, it highlights a moment of hypocrisy. George is desperate, and vulnerable. The phone call dialogue showcases him doing something that he knows he shouldn’t be doing. “Can we not talk about this? Can we pretend this phone call didn’t happen?”

Now, plenty of ugly nights and long weeks later, he steps closer to George in the grocery aisle as an unconcerned passerby skirts around their cart and conflict.

I’m not sure why I like this line. It feels like a gentle reminder that in the grand scheme of things, your conflict is small. Insignificant to the rest of the world, mattering to you two and only you two. Makes everything a bit more personal, I guess.

He looms over him, wishing he could melt the bristling anger from his brown eyes, and wishing he had it in himself to be angry, too.

I relate to both sides of this. That gut-wrenching feeling of not being able to find your own anger at someone who is angry at you. The feeling of knowing that your anger is frustrating and hurting someone else, too. Either way, it feels absolutely terrible.

“You called me,” Dream recounts, even though he can tell George remembers it as vividly as he. “You talked to me.” He lets out a short, frustrated breath. “Then you got mad at me the next morning, and iced me out.”

Doing the same thing that you hated the other person for doing, and taking it out on them afterwards. Yeah.

(dakota. dream. can you pls stop calling me out through george i would really really really appreciate it thank u) /hj /lh

“Because you let it happen,” George says, but he looks more vulnerable than before.

blame game here we go againnnnn

Dream stares down at him. “So it’s all on my shoulders,” he reiterates flatly. “It’s all my responsibility, now?”

“Yes,” George spits, his sharpness startling them both. He meets Dream's gaze, unwavering, and recollects himself with a deep breath.

“Yes. Because you made it your responsibility, when you sent me that text.”

George was ready to throw that blame right back into Dream’s face. When I saw that whole scene in Heat Waves, I realized how much I related to George in that particular situation. I knew it would come back, somehow. George wouldn’t be able to let something as huge as that, something that shifted the entire course of their relationship...slide so easily. Even with Dream’s eventual promise to work on himself. The whole time, I was thinking, “He’s too nice. He’s too patient,” and, “I wouldn’t be that nice. I wouldn’t be that patient. Not on the inside, at least.”

And you didn’t fail me. That final jab, although relatable- It hurt.

Now that the screens are off, the distance is gone, and the barriers are thinner than ever before, George’s flaws are becoming more transparent. We start to see other parts of his character that had only been foreshadowed in your previous work. I had no idea how Helium would unfold at the beginning, but I’m now very sure that you did not disappoint.

Seeing how you’ve evolved as a writer in both more subtle and more noticeable ways has been awesome :) I’m excited for the next chapter.

#heat waves #dreamland #helium #im very sorry if this is bad #im no fearwastaken #dnf #dreamnotfound #long post #be warned #i cant believe i did this.#kinda nervous to post #edit: ok wow this did really well #thanks to everyone <3 and dakota omg #helium analysis

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