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prismartist · 3 years

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Ponk’s discoveries and what they mean

Y’all haven’t been paying attention to Ponk and it shows. /lh

He has made many discoveries in his recent streams that are just begging to be talked about, and I, as the resident maker of farfetched theories, will take up the job of compiling and connecting them to the current lore.

For those who don’t know, Ponk recently built up the lore of Not A Very Good Town Town, aka the village that went mad, through a book he found in the basement of Jack’s (the potato farmer, not Manifold) Ye Old Farmhouse, written by Jack himself. And it reveals some interesting information.

There’s going to be a few sections for this post: first, breaking down what is in the journal, then theories as to what exactly happened to the village, and how these discoveries can tie into the current storyline.

The journal

For one, Jack seems to have interacted an entity that’s eerily similar to Foolish. In the first page there’s an entry that reads:

“Day 790 The strange man is back, his body made of straw but eyes of emrald.”

On the second page as well, it mentions:

“Day 800 A NEW LAND! A land that uses sand as stone! Gold.... GOLD EVERYWHERE!”

Which, of course, probably pertains to Foolish’s desert home, which also has a significant amount of gold due to the Egyptian theme.

But why would we get Foolish lore from Ponk of all people, instead of the totem god himself? Well, Ponk was the first person Foolish interacted with on the server aside from Dream, so I wouldn’t be surprised if they talked more after that and collabed for lore.

But anyways, now we move on to the more interesting section:

“Day 840 The Strange man has returned his name still unknown... BUT! he has brought a caravan of good! he talks about ancient magic and gifts 21 statues transported in make shift boats.”

Jack then goes on to describe that the statues are “calming” for him, before the next entry, written ten days later, show a disturbing shift in attitude.

“Day 855 CATS I HEAR CATS, CATS IN THE WALLS IN THE WALLS”

And another one five days later:

“DAY 900 murder... the cats murder ,,, the people I showed Shrimpy my satues he seems too intrested BUT THEY ARE MY SATUES”

Now those who saw the episode know that Jack and Bob (Shrimpy) turned out to be the murderers of the “canon round”. Seeing as those two people were the only ones exposed to the statues as we know, it’s logical to assume that the statues were the reason they went mad.

And this is backed up by the next entry:

“Day 905 SUDDEN URGE TO MURDER, THAT HELGA WOMEN IS TEMPTING BUT DAMN HER HUSBAND NEEDS TO GO BY ANY MEANS NESS…..”

Then there are two blank pages before the journal concludes

“Day 1040 Just me and Shrimpy and the cool statues life is good go od goo d g ood go odgood g oodg ood go odg good goo dgood goo dgood g ood good good good goodgoo d go od g ood go od dgo od g oo go od go o d - JACK”

It’s creepy as shit. But moving on.

There’s a lot of questions to be asked here. Why did Foolish–if it is Foolish–visit the Town? Why exactly did he gift a bunch of statues that drove Jack and Shrimpy to madness and murder? Why are there cats in the walls?

(Well, cats are very significant to Egyptian culture, even to a cult-like status, but that’s for another post.)

There are a few possibilities.

What exactly were the effects that Foolish had on the Town?

(Here’s the farfetched theories part lmao)

The simplest (and let’s be honest, the most likely) theory is that the statues probably had way too much power that caused people to become overprotective over them. Foolish just didn’t realize and wanted to give some nice gifts, but the statues drove Jack and Bob to insanity after being exposed to them for way too long. So they killed everyone.

However, considering certain factors, there is another possibility, specifically surrounding:

The “non-canon” round.

Did Karl say that it was a practice round and thus not canon? Yes. Am I suggesting it’s canon anyway for the sake of this theory that probably won’t be true? Also yes.

Besides, Karl probably also didn’t plan for TVTWM to be influential to the storyline, but because of it his character’s now a time traveler and Ponk is pulling out more lore so.

I think Foolish came by and gifted the statues, the first round did happen, and he brought them back to life after the first game. But the resurrection affected Jack and Bob, driving them to madness à la gothic horror lit character that just saw something they weren’t supposed to. Perhaps their attitude became cult-like, praising Foolish, thus the overprotectiveness over the statues as they were connected to the god, or they were of the opinion that “Hey no, everyone’s supposed to be dead,” and then sought to make that true once again.

“But then what about the first round, where everyone also died?” You may scoff at the ridiculous theory, poking my chest accusingly. “Why were the killers different?”

Well, I have a simple answer for that.

Egg.

“What, the egg again-“ I know, I know, it may seem tiring tying everything back to the egg, but hear me out.

In another one of Ponk’s streams, “Dreams of potatos?”, at 58:15 (correct me if wrong) Ponk had a dream where Mayor Jimmy was saying disjointed sentences to Jack, scolding him, telling him to stay away from Helga, and also something about burning Miles Memeington being burned at the stake for being a witch (????). At the end of it, Jimmy turned to the camera.

And his eyes were red.

Which, of course, is a telltale sign of being infected by the egg.

The egg being the main plot right now, seeing as it can easily be connected to the “Red-Eyed Village Wars”, and the fact that it is known to control people to murder, I don’t think it’s too much of a stretch to point to it as being the cause.

It also helps that Jimmy was only a character from the first round; in the “canon” round, Bad had changed his character to some sort of constable or something.

So the egg may have controlled Jimmy and Cornelius, the murderers in the first round, to kill everyone, Foolish then came along, resurrected everyone murdered in the first round, gotten rid of the egg’s influence, and then left. Then whatever effects the statues had on Jack and Bob took affect.

Alternatively, the statues may have been the ones to resurrect the dead, or have been given as protection from any threats, but became haywire for one reason or another. They influenced Jack and Bob to protect the statues at any cost, and they took it too far. Which may seem a little hypocritical as the egg literally does the same thing, but fire fights fire and all that.

And, just like with Karl, if Foolish has had to deal with the egg before, it makes sense why he’s so averse to it now.

Current lore

Now, how does this tie into the current storyline? 

Aside from the egg, if resurrection and items do affect one’s psyche, then maybe that’s the same reason why Schlatt and even Dream–the only other two who know how to resurrect–acted the way they did, becoming apathetic to the wellbeing of other people.

Also, it is worth noting that in the basement where Ponk found the journal, there were 21 villagers in boats, the same amount as the statues. Thus Ponk concluded that they are the statues. And Foolish does have an affinity for villagers, if King Toad is any indication. This implies that Foolish can not only bring dead people back to life, but can also grant life to objects that never lived in the first place. Or, they were once living, but had their life taken away from them before getting it back for one reason or another. If Foolish really has this much power, it could be foreshadowing for future events where those powers will be utilized.

About the bloodvines, if Foolish has defeated them before, there’s a chance he may do it again. Unless something goes wrong and he accidentally drives a few people to madness.

(or maybe they were predisposed to madness, who knows-)

TL;DR

Foolish may have interacted with Not A Very Good Town Town before to save them from the egg and resurrect the dead, driving Jack and Bob to insanity as a consequence. Thus he could have a lot of power and will be the one to potentially defeat the egg once again.

#dream smp #dropsbyponk #foolish gamers #tales from the smp #tftsmp #mcyt #the village that went mad #dsmp #dream smp analysis #dsmp analysis #unintelligible rants #cursing #long post

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spookysmujer · 3 years

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Maraschino pt.2, O. Diaz

Summary: After the rejection from Oscar, things seems to take you on a roller coaster ride.

warnings: angst, f e e l s, theTEAbeenSPILLED ☕️ daddy issues

word count: 3.5K

a/n: Here is the highly requested part 2 of Maraschino! I had fun writing this though if it is trash it’s because I wanted to hurry and get it out for y’all since I been getting msgs. heh. But Ray? Whew chile, the ghetto! Part 3? Please enjoy and don’t forget: follow the blog, heart/comment/reblog the content as well as turn on the notifs! (Y/S/N: your sister’s name)

(gif belongs to @thesewickedhands ✨)

“Have a wonderful day!”

God, why is the person yelling? You smile weakly and squeeze your eyes nearly shut as the sun is blazing down on you while you say your thanks and exit the uber. The throbbing of your head and the loud lawnmower from one of your neighbors has you internally cursing.

How did you end up like this? Granted this was the plan last night to go out and have a good time, you certainly did not expect to be doing such a thing. You never let yourself get to this point before. But you also never got denied like you did with Spooky last night. A shiver goes through your body as you think of him. You won’t let him infiltrate your mind no more.

“Y/N!” Your sister’s voice sounds frantically as you round the corner of the house.

Well there goes your plan to sneak in through your window to pretend you were in your room all along. She wraps your arms around you, gluing herself to your body causing you to stumble back a bit. “You are a dead woman walking!” She whispers to you as you arch an eyebrow at her.

As confused as you were, José appears from around the corner taking long strides towards you. His face sports no emotion of missing you but a lot of anger. It causes you to automatically back up the closer his approaches you. Your sister has since removed herself from you as your brother is now in your face.

You blink as you peer up at him, “Where the fuck have you been, hermana? You know how much shit you are in, hm? I get a call from Y/S/N saying you aren’t home. I assure her you would be and when she calls me at 6 in the morning telling me that you still aren’t in? You left a note?”

“José! Calmate, I went out with a friend. And I spent the night. What’s the big deal about that?” You briefly explain yourself. He laughs for a moment before grabbing you by your upper arm and pulling you towards your sister. Now it’s her turn to start backing up, “Ven aqui, her! That’s the big deal. When I ask you to be the sister you need to be, I don’t mean when you feel like it. You know the Santos have been getting into heavy shit lately. I need you here when I’m not!”

The tension is thick as you pull your arm from his hold and push him, “But when you wanna go and do whatever it’s okay? When you wanna hitch a ride with Spooky to Sin City with dirty ass hynas last week, it’s all good. Business trip, huh? Don’t come for me when you are far from perfect!”

The two of you are both very stubborn with your brother usually being calm and collected while you’re more expressive with your feelings. Family is important to him especially considering it’s just the three of you. Jose scoffs as you stomp away from him and your now crying sister.

Oscar suddenly appears in front of you as round the corner and collides with his body. He reaches out to grasp you before you can stumble back, the feelings hitting you all at once, “What are you doing here?” You swallow thickly.

He licks his bottom lip as his eyes rake over your body. Still in your dress from last night, hair unruly and make-up smudged. Anyone can spot a ‘walk of shame’ when they see one. He laughs internally thinking of how you wasted no time after last night’s rejection.

“I offered to drive him when little hermanita called up again worried you weren’t home yet. Seems we know why now.” A small grin painted across his lips, you squint your eyebrows at his words as you hear your brother approaching the two of you. You step back before Spooky migrates his eyes to behind you, “We got business, everything good here?”

José nods and steps beside you, “Don’t be leaving.”

The two guys leave as you stand there a bit dumbfounded. Y/S/N appears next to you and grabs your hand. She apologizes for you getting into trouble with José. You want to yell at her for starting unnecessary drama. But she explains she didn’t want your brother to potentially find out about your little sneaky link with Spooky.

“Well, he and I ended that shit so nothing to worry about. I went out and got wasted. I am done with these guys. No más!” Though even sounding like fake news to yourself, you go and wash off last night’s memories.

As the day had gone by, you skimmed through your daily journal of all the entries you wrote about Oscar ‘Spooky’ Diaz, ripping them out. All 6 pages. You roll your eyes at your thoughts about him, some sappy and some nasty. How did you believe a man who runs a street gang, that is as mean mugging as Oscar the Grouch from Sesame Street, would be into you the way you are him?

It didn’t matter the answer now. Good riddance of him! That’s when the sound of your window opening pulls you from the wandering thoughts. You stand up quickly, reaching for a bat that’s besides your bed. “Get the fuck out!”

“Calmate! It’s me, Oscar.”

You clutch your chest, doubling over to catch your breath. “What is wrong with you? Ever think of flying a pebble at the window or calling first?” You say as he climbs in, adjusting his flannel before closing the window then your room door. You watch him as he starts to look around your room. Though there’s a part of you that wants him out, you haven’t made any advances to get him out.

He sits on your bed and finally looks at you, “Abajo.”

Uncompliant, you cross your arms and shift your weight to make it known you are fine standing there. He smirks and looks away before locking eyes with you. “You don’t think I like you too? You think I fucked with you for this long cause it was just convenient? Girls everywhere around my place but I was only fucking you. Why do you think that?”

“Is this supposed to be your sweet confession that makes me go all heart eyes? You're gonna apologize and I’m supposed to forgive you and then we give us a try and realize all our worries were nothing but fear that our anxiety instilled in our heads? Because that’s not how it’s gonna go.” You say as he gives you a semi-disgusted look.

You chuckle softly and watch him intently.

Oscar analyzes you closely. It’s a front, no doubt he thinks. He doesn’t deny the thought that you are a thick-skinned woman. He knows you have a superior mind and a mouth to go with it but he knows there is no way that you could’ve gotten over him that quick. Though judging by your appearance earlier in the day, you definitely tried.

You laugh a little more as you step in front of him and lean over to get your vision in line with his. “You made it clear to me and now I’m making it clear. Nothing you say will convince me that you give a rat’s ass about me. If you really did? There would be no sneaky link shit. You wouldn’t have a problem with people knowing about me, or my brother knowing but it is a problem so get out.”

This ticks Ocscar off a bit. He stands which makes you straighten up as he gets in your face, stepping towards you. You are stepping back slowly as he creeps more, “You think you can handle this lifestyle? The constant threats, the territories? You can’t. When it comes to this kind of life, something like love can be the bane of your existence. So we don’t get into it. We don’t get involved because the people we fall for end up dead.”

You’re pressed with your back against the wall and your chests against each other. Oscar’s eyebrows are connected and he’s staring at your agape mouth. His breath is fanning against your lips, emotions hitting you all at once. “I-I slept with someone last night. Got it good too.”

The jealous tactic seems to fail immediately as Oscar laughs. And for some reason the look of amusement on his face seems to be familiar for a reason you can’t seem to figure out.

“Sleeping around is simple, falling for someone is something else entirely. I’m not saying that we jump into something. But at least you know now it’s not just one-sided.” He steps out of your room. You follow and watch him walk down the hall as Y/S/N stands there. She is stunned seeing Oscar nonchalantly trek through the house.

You don’t know what to say. As you look at your little sister, you sigh in defeat trying to explain this one. Instead you go back into your room and shut your door. You got what you wanted, right? But you still feel like something is missing.

The week had slowly crept on.

A few shifts at the bodega, classes at the community college and life at home. Jose had basically converted you back to your teenage ways. Making sure you were doing your part in parenting your little sister. Friday night Y/S/N wanted to have Dwayne’s BBQ for dinner and since your social life is drier than your skin, you agree.

The thought of a BBQ bacon cheeseburger lifts your mood which has been dragging throughout the week. Your sister happily skips into the restaurant as you trail behind slowly, when you enter you look for her and see she chatting up with Dwayne.

“Y/N!” José calls out and your vision unfocuses from them onto your brother and pile of Santos in a booth. They all look your way including Oscar. You exhale a deep breath through your nose as you put on a fake smile and wave before stepping up to place an order.

Your brother approaches you as you look past him to the booth of Santos, “Didn’t know you guys would be here.” He sets down a $20 bill on the counter when the cashier tells you the total. “Foos gotta eat too.” José starts talking to you about something but your focus falls back on Spooky again. You watch as he stands and makes his way towards you. A small panic sets in your chest but fades away as he ends up exiting the BBQ joint.

Unknowingly to yourself, your watch as he walks to his car. He leans against it and pulls out a cigarette, no matter how hard you try to avert your eyes from him, you can’t. All week you had been doing fine. Even with the little things reminding you of him, even with the memories that have been seeped into your bed. You didn’t dwell too much on thinking of him until you see him now.

“Talk to him.”

It’s just like the movies where the car tires come to a screeching halt and there’s the obnoxious crashing sound. You move your eyes to your brother’s. Did he just say what you think he said? “Talk to him? Spooky, what for? Why would I need to talk to him?”

Jose chuckles, “Hermana, I had my suspicions about you two. Then he told me bout it, he acts like it doesn’t bother him much but it does so go talk to him. Yeah, I’m not so thrilled that he’s messing around with my baby sister. I know how he is but I know he wouldn’t do anything to intentionally hurt you so I’m cool with it. So go talk to him, figure that shit out because I’m getting over you moping around the house.”

You push him away as you look back to the red impala. After a moment of contemplating it, you decide to head out and approach Oscar, he had his eyes on you since he settled by his car. You lean on it besides him and cross your arms, “You told my brother?”

He smirks and shrugs his shoulders. You try your best to keep the smug look off your face. He holds out the cigarette, you take it and inhale. Coughing a bit as the smoke burns your throat a little. You hand it back and sigh, turning to look at him.

“I like you, you like me. I’m not saying we jump into something… but why not?” You question as he exhales some smoke, you lock your eyes into his, “You ain’t cut for this lifestyle, you would be a liability. Plus your brother in my line of work? That makes him vulnerable as well. It woul--”

You groan loudly which quiets him mid-rant, “Drugs, alcohol and money do all the same things to him too. You see how he is when he gets wasted. There are so many things that make you all vulnerable. If he can make it work with the hyna he’s with, then you can make it work with me. Plus I know this lifestyle more than you think. I know when and where to be and not to be. I know who to know and who not to know. I know things! So don’t act all big bad Spooky to me.”

Now standing directly in front of him and he’s peering down at you. He dips his face lowers and looks at your lips as you look at his. In no time your lips are connected. Oscar slides his hands over your waist, gripping it and pushing you flush against him. You bring your hands to cup his face, letting your tongue slip into his mouth. A full on make-out session breaks out.

As if you didn’t dream of something like this happening you smile into the kiss, pulling away, “You get into this with me, it’s not gonna be glitter and gold. This shit is tough, I can’t be worrying about the things I already do plus you.” You nod and kiss him again, wringing your arms around his neck, he hugs you and feels calm for the first time in a while.

So you enjoy the night more than you thought you would be. With your siblings and the Santos at Dwayne’s. After a night of chatting, Oscar asks you to come back to his place. And well since it isn’t your first rodeo, you agree and send Y/S/N home with José.

You don’t keep your hands off him while heading back to his place, you are pressed against him and kissing his neck, he is loving every moment of it. The both of you get out to head into the house but the mood is killed when you walk in to find Cesar and his friends on the couch who get frightened due to the scary movie playing on the TV.

Oscar cursing under his breath, “Can’t you watch movies at some else’s house?” You elbow him as he rolls his eyes. But Cesar didn’t want to start anything with his older brother so he asks Jamal if they can continue watching at his house. Soon after the house is empty and quiet again. The two of you settle on the couch, you straddling him and pulling your top off.

“Yo! There’s someone posted up outside!” Cesar suddenly bursts through the door which causes Oscar to push you off him and reach for his gun. He tells the younger Diaz, his friends and you to stay put as he checks out the fool that runs up on the Santo trap house. You scramble to put your shirt back on and curse when Cesar trails after his brother. You follow in pursuit, trying to tell Cesar that Oscar said to stay inside. “Who is that?”

“Ray?” You say out loud though you thought you were just thinking it.

Oscar turns to you when you say the name of none other than his estranged father. You look to both Ray and Oscar, looking at the two men and making the connection. You feel the color get sucked out of your face, oh fuck.

“You know him, who is he?” Cesar asks you and he looks at Oscar. The Santo leader has his eyes on you and is still confused as to how the hell you know his father. “He’s our father.” Oscar says, still looking at you.

The confirmation makes you want to be obliterated right in your very spot. This can’t be happening! Is it? You try to speak but nothing comes out of your mouth. You finally look to Ray who has a small smirk on his face and that’s why that look Oscar had on his face that day seemed so familiar. You saw it that night you went out of town to have a good time.

“Hola de nuevo, pequeña coyote.” Ray says looking at you.

You grimace as Oscar connects the dots himself. The amount of heat that settles into your face along with the gasps from Cesar’s friends don’t make it any easier to bear.

“Wait Oscar, wait!” He is stepping towards his father, ready to charge. “I didn’t know he was your dad! Listen to me, please!” You step forward quickly and pull his arm back, he yanks it out of your grasp quickly as you plead for him to listen to you.

Oscar begins to snap at you, “Him? This is who you slept with and you want me to listen to explain? Huh?!” The anger booms in his voice as he is mere inches from your face. Cesar appears next to you trying to get between the two of you. You didn’t think Oscar could ever get so mad. And you have seen the Santo leader in moments of rage before.

“Mijo, listen..”

Ray’s voice sounds from behind Oscar now. He turns and wastes no time in welcoming him with a right hook. His father stumbles back as you gasp along with the sounds from the teens. “Oscar!”

You take the initiative to stand between the two of them, holding out a hand against Oscar’s chest as he is heaving and exuding anger. Ray is mending to his jaw as he stands up. You notice the lights of the neighbor had turned on and people were beginning to pile outside of their homes to see all the commotion.

“Oscar just stop and listen to me for one fucking second! No, I did not sleep with Ray. We did get together that night, yes but we didn’t do anything that involves other body parts. I started going off about you with him, I vented and we spent the night drinking. I got too wasted and he offered to let me spend the night in his motel room. Nothing happened!” You release in one breath.

Everyone looks at you, unable to make sense of the situation.

“That’s why I came, when she mentioned things about you, I had to come see for myself if what niña said is true. That you’re running the Santos.” The two men stare at each other as you stand in the middle. Your heart is racing.

Oscar doesn’t say anything as he looks back and forth between his father and you. When you step towards him and reach out to grab his hand, he raises his hand up in defense and steps back. You can see the glint of hurt in his eyes as he backs away from you. Your eyes pleading for him to try to understand everything.

You trail behind a fuming Oscar into his house, you are nearly jogging when you catch up with him. But he steps into his room and slams the door in your face. You step back and sigh. “Please talk to me…Oscar. Nothing happened, you have to believe me.”

He doesn’t respond as you rest your head on his door. You hold your hands on the door silently cursing yourself. What could you say that made the situation sound better? How could you make it look like it really was nothing even with Ray right there?

A few moments have passed by when the door opens, a still very upset Oscar stands there as he flies forwards a bunch of crumbled paper at you. You watch as the papers fall to your feet and he slams the door in your face again. No context of nothing.

When you pick up the papers, it’s drawings of you. Portraits sketched out from a ballpoint pen. Some dated as far back as a month ago to as recent as a few days ago. Oscar drew you. He did so multiple times and in such craft it takes your breath away.

You feel the tears begin to well in your eyes. The pain that you have caused him. How do you fix this?

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tiffdawg · 3 years

Text

Curriculum Vitae: Chapter Fifteen

Gif: @bestintheparsec

curriculum vitae noun cur·ric·u·la vi·tae Latin. the course of one’s life.

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader (fem; no y/n)

Word Count: 7.0k

Rated: E | Warnings: NSFW – explicit sexual content, sex, public sex, oral sex (female receiving), cumplay, dirty talk. Mentions of alcohol. Mild language. 18+ only.

Chapter Summary: In this chapter, you and Javier attend the holiday party for the social sciences’ faculty.

A/N: I really risked it all for y’all just to login and post this. I still haven’t seen the finale so I’m going to drop this and run but I’d love to know what you think. I hope this chapter makes the extra-long wait worth it.

Read on AO3

CV Masterlist | My Masterlist

… . …

Chapter Fifteen

Unsurprisingly, things were tense the next morning

Javier was up before you but that wasn’t out of the ordinary. Although considering it was a quarter past seven you wondered how much sleep the man could’ve gotten. What was surprising was that you woke alone.

Then you ate breakfast together in silence. Moved about your 400 square foot studio in silence. Worked across the dining table grading papers in silence.

Javier was never an overly talkative person but that was unlike him. It was unlike the two of you. You knew there were things from his past that troubled him. Things you couldn’t even begin to imagine. The longer you’d known him, the more time you spent together, the more you felt his sadness. But he seemed determined to hide it from you.

However, you couldn’t dwell on it. Not until you’d finished grading exams and assigned final grades and could put the fall quarter behind you. With a Monday deadline, work came first.

Eventually, Javier finished his grading. He gathered his things to go home and dress for the faculty party that evening, leaving you with just a kiss on your cheek and a promise to pick you up at six. You hummed noncommittally as you watched him leave.

Sunny whined at the closed door before looking over her shoulder at you with a silent question in her wide brown eyes. “I don’t know what’s wrong either,” you answered with a shrug. She laid down where she was, head on her paws and a rather sad expression of her face.

… . …

By some miracle, you were able to focus long enough to finish your grading with enough time to spare to get ready for a night out. At 5:58 you walked out of your building into the dark evening and found Javier waiting for you at the bottom of the stoop. It was a chilly night and you pulled your wool coat tighter around you as you closed the last bit of distance between the two of you. For the first time that day, as he held his hand out to you, he smiled. It was nothing more than a slight pull at the corner of his lips, but it was something.

You took his hand and let him lead you toward his car. When he reached into his coat pocket, presumably in search of his keys, he pulled out a half-finished pack of Nicorette. He tossed it in a nearby trash can.

“Why did you do that?” you asked without thinking.

He shrugged as he unlocked the car and opened the passenger door for you. “I don’t need it.”

You made no move to get in. “I thought you were trying to quit.”

“I… I did.”

“Really?” you asked, not bothering to hide your excitement.

“I haven’t needed it for a couple of weeks now actually.”

“Javi, that’s amazing,” you smiled as you brought him to you for a kiss by the lapels of his coat. “I’m so proud of you.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re proud of me?”

“Yeah,” you said easily. He still didn’t seem to believe you. You continued tentatively, afraid you might say the wrong thing but needing to say something all the same. “Sometimes I just– I feel like I don’t actually know that much about you. Or, I should say, about your past. And I don’t need to know anything more than what you want to tell me,” you added quickly. “But I see you. I see you trying to be a better man. Everyday.” Your hands moved on their own accord to cup his freshly shaved cheeks. “I’m proud of you. Even if you think it’s silly.”

“I–” Javier opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t manage more than that single syllable.

Instead, he stared at you. You might’ve crossed some unspoken line, but you didn’t care. You’d meant everything that you said. His eyes shifted away as he stared at something past you for a drawn-out moment. “Come here,” he finally managed, and he pulled you into his embrace. The two of you held each other in the middle of the sidewalk, letting the few people out and about walk around you. “You’re too good for me, compañera.”

“I know,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood. His fingers dug into your sides and you laughed. “Are we going to talk about what happened last night?”

He sighed heavily. “I’d rather have one good night with you before I leave. I’m not going to see you for more than two weeks.”

Deciding not to question it, you put it out of your mind. Maybe what happened was a one off. Still, you pulled back and scowled at him. “Then stop being such a….”

“An asshole?”

“Exactly.”

He huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes but nodded his agreement. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled as he pressed a kiss to your temple.

“You gonna make it up to me?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ve got plans for you tonight.”

A chill shot down your spine at the insinuation. “Good,” you smirked, “so do I.”

… . …

The country club was only a short drive past the university and up into the hills amongst rows of gated mansions. Slipping out of the car before the valet approached, you darted in ahead of Javier. The bubble that the two of you were living in still didn’t extend to work, not entirely. Not beyond fucking in your offices and occasionally brushing hands under the table at faculty meetings.

Inside, the already gilded ballroom was draped in silver and gold holiday decorations from ceiling to floor. Every inch sparkled and shone in the chandelier light. Your colleagues from across the school of social sciences crowed the hall, all dressed to the nines with glasses of champagne and hors-d’œuvre topped with caviar in their hands.

You politely made your rounds before you found yourself conversing with Debra by the bar as you waited for a cocktail. She was her usual gossipy self, going on and on about the latest office drama. That was when you first spotted Javier amongst the crowd.

He wore a well-fitted black suit – one that was significantly more flattering than some of his older ones and you idly wondered if it was new – with a white shirt, forgoing a tie so that his tanned chest was still exposed, even on a winter night. His dark hair was styled just enough to keep it off his face. Even from across the room, you could see the glimmer in his warm brown eyes as he chatted away with someone. You were surprised when he walked right up to Rafael Garcia, one of the younger professors from the political science department. You watched as they shook hands and he was introduced to his wife, noting the genuine smile on his face.

“We just started seeing each other a couple of weeks ago but it’s going well so far. I really like him.” Deb’s voice brought you back to the present.

“That’s nice,” you replied absentmindedly.

“What about you, doc?”

“What? Oh, no. I don’t have time for something like that.” You waved her off, but your eyes still followed Javier across the room. You tried to ignore the heat pooling in your stomach.

“That’s a shame.” Debra looked out at the crowd and sighed. “He never flirts with me. Not anymore, at least.”

“Your new boyfriend?”

“No,” she laughed and smacked your shoulder playfully. “Javier,” she answered, lowering her voice.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Although you hoped it wasn’t that obvious who you’d been looking at. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. And don’t you have a boyfriend?”

“Sure, but Javier was always fun to flirt with. It certainly made work more interesting. You know,” she took a sip of her martini, “the two of you seem awfully friendly lately. I thought you hated him.”

“I do,” you answered quickly.

“Well, don’t let Dr. Campbell hear you speak ill about his favorite lecturer.” She raised her brows over her class as the department chair approached the two of you. You stifled a sigh.

… . …

Javier sipped at his drink as he listened to Sofia Garcia regal him with the story of how she met her husband. He’d hardly spoken to the man before than night, but after five minutes with his loquacious wife, he felt like he knew his whole life story.

“I played on the Mexican women’s national team for a few years after college until I injured my knee. But it was a blessing. I was offered a coaching position here a week later and by the end of my first season we were engaged.” She held up her left hand where a modest diamond sat on her ring finger. “That was nearly fifteen years ago. Now he’s the only one who plays soccer.”

“Yeah,” Rafael scoffed, “I play in an adult league with my cousin and some old college friends. That hardly counts. She’s the real athlete.” He looked fondly on his wife who beamed back at him. Even Javier had to admit they made a handsome couple. And it had nothing to do with his expensive looking suit or her champagne dress. It was something about the way they looked at each other. they were easily better conversationalists than most of the people in that room. You weren’t kidding when you said academics only knew how to talk about journal articles and research funding. “You ever play, Peña? We’re actually looking for one more.”

Javier shook his head. “I played when I was a kid but that was a long fucking time ago.”

“Don’t worry, man, it’s not that serious. We drink the whole game. All you gotta do is pay for the keg when it’s your turn.”

Javier laughed, surprised by his answer. “I could get on board with that.”

The conversation moved on, but Javier was only half aware of whatever question he was being asked. Just over Rafael’s shoulder, he caught sight of you. With a red dress with thin straps draped across your form that left everything and nothing to the imagination, you looked… alluring.

“Hey, uh, you look like you could use a refill,” Rafael commented, pointing toward the bar where you were standing.

“Yeah,” Javier nodded, “I’ll catch you later. Nice meeting you, Sofia.”

“I hope to see you around, Javier.” She smiled kindly at him, but Javier was already on the move, swiftly cutting through the crowd as he contemplated the ways that he could get you alone.

“Whiskey. Dry,” he ordered, leaning against the bar next to you.

“How are you enjoying the evening, Professor Peña?” Debra simpered.

“Much better now that I’m talking to you lovely ladies,” he answered without missing a beat.

On cue, Debra’s whole face flushed bright red.

“I’ll have you know I’m spoken for now. Your charm won’t work on me anymore.”

“That’s too bad.” His eyes slid to you. And then up and down your body. “What about you, sweetheart?” He offered you the perfect set up on a silver platter. And you took it.

“Not in your wildest dreams, Peña,” you shot back. His lips quirked as he repressed a smile.

“Don’t you two ever get tired of antagonizing each other?” Debra scoffed before traipsing off. He was hoping that would work.

The bartender placed Javier’s drink on the counter and then he turned back to you, still admiring your dress. Now that he was near you, he noticed the fabric was a soft red velvet he wanted nothing more than to get his hands on.

“You looked like you were enjoying your conversation with Rafael.”

“He does some interesting work on South American politics,” he offered distractedly, his eyes snapped back up to yours. “I probably shouldn’t ask you to dance.”

You reeled back a little, as if the question surprised you. “Probably not. That might ruin the whole facade of me hating you.” He made a sour face as he looked at his glass in his hand, swirling the amber liquid a few times. “I wouldn’t have taken you for the dancing type, Javi.”

He grinned. “I love dancing.”

“You never take me dancing.”

“Fucking shame. I’m gonna start.” You beamed at him, uncaring, just for a moment, who saw. It was a smile nothing short of dazzling. He took a step closer. “You look stunning.”

“You drove me here.”

“I thought you were stunning then too. But you were wearing a coat and I didn’t get to see this.” He ran the back of his knuckles down the fabric of your dress just over that sensitive spot on your side he liked so much. “You were right. This is definitely worth it.”

“What if I told you there’s more,” you said unaffectedly, feigning interest in your empty glass. The mischievous look in your eyes when they met his confused expression gave you away. Gently, you brought his hand to your thigh, just under the hem of your dress, and his fingers instantly hooked around the strap of the garter belt holding your sheer stockings in place.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“What a way to go,” you cooed. His hand traveled up the strap to the apex of your thighs where he found little more than a thin piece of lace below the belt. “Careful,” you warned him, pushing his hand away.

Turning so that his body pinned you between him and the bar top and shielded you from the rest of your colleagues, he grasped your hand and brought it to the front of his pants “Can you feel what you do to me?” he said against the shell of your ear.

“That’s what I was hoping for.” Your smile was absolutely wicked.

“Do you have any idea how fucking hard it is not to kiss you right now?”

“Yes.” You squeezed him through his trousers. Javier might’ve looked remarkably calm, but he knew you felt his reaction. He steeled himself as he finished his drink and set the glass on the counter behind you.

“Follow me.”

… . …

Keeping a few steps behind him, you followed Javier back to the front of the club. You assumed he was leading you out to the car but apparently, he had something else in mind. He swung open the door to the coat check, since abandoned by the clerk now that all the guests had arrived and the party was in full swing. With some idea of what he had in mind, you hoped no one was inclined to leave early.

His mouth was on yours in an instant and as soon as the door was shut, you were pressed up against it.

“The coat closet at the holiday work party?” you asked in between fevered kisses. “Isn’t that a little cliché?”

“Honey,” he murmured against your neck as his lips moved lower and lower, “I know for a fact it turns you on when we fuck in public.”

His hand slipped underneath your dress again, following the same path as earlier, and he pressed his fingers against the lace covering your cunt, now soaked with your arousal. He pulled away to raise a brow at you, daring you to contradict him.

Instead, you palmed him again, finding him harder than before. “I’m not the only one,” you shot back. With your eyes locked on his, you dropped to your knees to loosen his belt and unbutton his trousers. Then you leaned forward to slowly pull the zip down – with your teeth.

“Fuck me” he gasped around a ragged exhale, his hips automatically bucking toward you. He watched you, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, before he hauled you to your feet with a hand on either arm. “Fucking dirty girl.”

“Wanna be your dirty girl, Javi,” you sighed, batting your lashes at him. You wanted him unraveled and unrestrained.

“Yeah?” he asked with a hint of excitement in his voice, and you nodded, satisfied with the response you’d gotten from him. Before you realized what he was doing, he spun you around and hiked your skirt up over your ass, letting it bunch around your waist.

“Hey, be careful. This dress is vintage.”

He just laughed against your ear. “You should’ve thought of that before you started this.” With one hand on your hip to hold you up, he kicked each of your ankles to prompt you to spread your legs before hooking a finger under the band of your thong and sliding them to the side. “Damn,” he growled when his fingers met your wet cunt. “I think you’re ready for me.”

“I was ready for you the moment I saw you tonight,” you answered truthfully.

You felt his grin as he kissed the nape of your neck. He freed his cock and ran the tip through your folds. You knew better than to tell him not to tease you. That was part of it. That was what he enjoyed. He wanted you so strung out by the time he slipped inside you that you were already a mess and he knew just how to get you there. And that was exactly where you wanted to go.

He started to press inside you, slowly stretching you around him with each inch, and you delighted in the slight burn. Usually, he spent more time preparing you, but there was no time for that. Not when you were just hoping to finish fucking each other before someone came to collect their belongings.

You were wet and ready for him, but you were unable to stop the yelp that escaped you as he pushed in a little further.

“Quiet,” he snapped. Then, softly, he asked, “are you okay?”

You nodded. “It just takes a minute sometimes. You’re so big, Javi.” You felt him twitch inside you.

“You take me so well. This cunt was made for me.” Your ego burned bright at his praise and he slid in a bit more as you relaxed around him.

He held you, gently caressing you while you adjusted in what you assumed was a merciful act of patience. When you were ready, you rolled your hips to encourage him.

“Keep – shit – keep doing that. Feels so good on my dick.” You could imagine the debauched look on his face. You reveled in it even though you couldn’t see him. He reached around you to cup your pussy, fingers rubbing against your clit and following your movements as you circled your hips. You moaned in unison.

But it wasn’t enough. Not for you. Not for Javier.

“Hold on to something.”

His warning came just a moment too late. With a gasp, you fell forward clawing at the coats in front of you and fisting an expensive looking black peacoat in hopes of staying upright as he set a brutal pace. “Oh, fuck yes!” you whined.

“Are you even trying to stay quiet?” Javier hissed.

“Yes,” you replied weakly.

“Fucking liar.” You heard the smirk.

The hand playing with your clit moved to your mouth and he slipped two fingers past your lips. It effectively muffled your noises of pleasure as he pulled you down hard on his cock with every thrust. The only sound was the wet noise of him sliding in and out of your slick cunt and the slap of your stocking-covered thighs as they bounced against his. You felt that delicious pressure deep in your belly, right between your thighs, building steadily.

Until you heard a noise just outside the door and the two of you froze.

Without pulling out of you, Javier held you to his chest. As if that would somehow help. You could feel his heart beating against your back just as your own threatened to break through your ribs. Two sets of wide eyes watched the doorknob, waiting for any sign that someone on the other side was about to turn it. You held your breath as you listened carefully to the low voices murmuring, unable to tell who they belonged to or what they were saying. It was like they were hovering just outside the door. Taunting you.

Just as you were about to suggest redressing and making a run for it, Javier started moving in and out of you as a torturously slow pace. Despite the voices nearby, a small whimper escaped you. He shushed you gently. “Quiet, baby,” he whispered.

“But–”

“You wanted this.”

“Javi–”

“You wouldn’t have worn this” –he fingered the garter belt– “if you didn’t want to end up just like this.”

He was right, of course.

“What if–”

“I’m not going to let that happen.” You had no idea what he thought he was going to do if someone did catch the two of you, but he seemed confident enough for the both of you. Coupled with the easy rock of his hips, you relaxed into his hold. The truth was, as much as you liked the freedom of your home, you missed this. This thrill that you trusted only him to give you.

As soon as the conversation faded away, he resumed his previous pace, punching the air right out of your lungs.

“Yes! Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” you chanted, forgetting the precarious situation you were in only moments ago. The coil in your belly tightened as you neared your crest, and you could tell by his less than precise movements that Javier just as close. And then, right as you were about to fall apart on his cock–

Javier pulled out and spun you back around in one swift movement. Before you even knew what was happening, he yanked down your panties and came all over you. Jaw dropping, you watched him work his length until every last drop was on you. White spurts of cum marked you and pooled in the black lace, already dripping down your thighs to the tops of your stockings. You placed a hand on either of his shoulders to steady yourself as your legs threatened to give out under you and stared down at the mess. Somehow, you were more turned on than before. You felt like you would actually combust from arousal. He held your panties in place for a moment, admiring his work, before letting the elastic snap against your skin and drawing your attention upward.

His breaths were jagged, stuttering and uneven. His head tilted back, and he looked down his nose at you with dark eyes that shone with something feral. Something sacrilegious. He was flushed and panting but a smirk tugged on his lips as he tucked his cock away and belted his pants. “You said you wanted to be my dirty girl.”

You swore you could feel your last brain cell short-circuiting. You were hyperaware of the errant drop sliding down your thighs, but you couldn’t look away from him. “Always,” you promised quietly.

You kissed him with everything you had. Javier took it greedily.

“You’re so good for me. Letting me cum all over you,” he said breathlessly, still kissing you. “I want you to keep it all in your panties so that while you’re out there talking to those pretentious professors you can feel my cum between your legs. Okay?” You nodded and he graciously straightened your dress, letting it fall over your messy thighs. “You first.”

“But I didn’t–”

“Only good girls get to cum,” he replied quickly, apparently knowing exactly what you were going to say.

“Javi,” you scolded breathlessly and pointlessly, “I– I am your good girl.”

“Not tonight. You can’t keep quiet. Do you want everyone we work with to know I’m fucking you in this god damn coat closet?” You shook your head. “Don’t worry, honey, this was just foreplay. I’m not done with you yet. Tonight, I’m gonna make you cum so fucking hard you’re screaming my name at the top of your lungs. I can’t do that here, but I can get you ready.”

Your head buzzed.

Some filthy part of you liked that he’d cum all over you. That he wanted to do that to you. You didn’t even need to cum because it’d felt that good. And you knew by the look in his eyes that he planned on making up for leaving you wanting, for making a mess of you. You instinctively understood that this was part of it. That even greater pleasure waited for you if you could just be patient and... and trust him. And you did trust him. You knew he would take care of you.

If this was going to be your last night together for weeks — after hardly spending a night apart the last month and a half — then this was just the start.

“Okay,” you agreed. “But you’re a fucking tease, Javier Peña.”

He laughed with genuine mirth in his eyes. “You started it.��

“I’ll finish it,” you promised.

“I’m looking forward to that.”

You hesitated, teasing your bottom lip with your teeth. “Do we really have to go back out there?”

“It would be rude to leave so early.” You knew he didn’t care about staying. He was just tormenting you, playing a fucked-up game that had your head spinning like crazy. “But don’t worry. Eventually, I’ll take you home and fill you up. Just the way you like it. Now be a good girl” he said with a swat on your ass, “and go out first.”

Feeling defiant, you turned around and planted a kiss on his neck, purposefully leaving a smudge of red lipstick on his crisp white collar.

“Are you trying to get me in trouble?”

“Maybe I do want everyone to know your mine.”

He wiped away the lipstick he smeared when he stuck his fingers in your mouth with the pad of his thumb. “You know. That’s all I care about.”

… . …

The two of you didn’t make it another hour. Fifty-two minutes to be exact. Javier knew because he kept checking his watch only to decide that time had crept to a halt. He wanted nothing more than to take you home and finish what he’d started. Every time he glanced at you across the room, he found you squirming as you tried to keep a straight face while chatting with some colleague, and he had to look away and recompose himself.

It hadn’t been his intention to leave you wet and wanting and covered in his cum. It’d just happened in the heat of the moment. Some wild idea that he’d decided to act on. But you… you’d liked it. And so did Javier.

In reality, fifty-two minutes wasn’t that long, but it was enough time to suck up to the school’s dean. If Javier was going to be put on display as his prized lecturer for the year, he’d make him listen to him in return. Even if he had to turn up the fake charm to a ten in front of a group of wealthy alumni.

“Here she is now,” Javier said, taking a hold of your elbow as you passed by, physically dragging you into the conversation. You shot him a confused look, but he just smiled at the dean.

“Ah, yes, professor,” Dean Dalton started, “It would seem you’ve made quite the impression on Agent Peña.”

Javier elected to ignore his choice of title.

“Really? I wasn’t aware.” You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, but he could tell you were happy.

“I’ve had the privilege of reading a few chapters of her upcoming book,” Javier explained. “Trust me, you’ll want to see what she’s planning next.”

“As luck would have it, I’ve been talking to a few of our more generous donors tonight. Perhaps we should meet when classes resume to discuss how the school might be able to help your research.” The dean clinked his glass against yours and ambled off.

“What did you just do?” you asked, disbelief lacing your voice.

“I told you I would help you.”

“Oh my God… thank you,” you said softly. You stared at him for a long moment and he just held your gaze. “Will you take you home now?”

“Yes.”

Without wasting another second, you turned on your heel and headed toward the entrance. He followed eagerly. “Wait.” You stopped suddenly and his chest hit your back. You peered at him over your shoulder. “Don’t forget our tradition.”

He quirked a brow in silent question and your eyes flicked to the bar in response. It clicked. “Got it,” he said with a grin. He swiped the first bottle of champagne he could reach. Something so expensive he couldn’t even imagine the price tag. Something neither of you could ever afford on an academic salary.

… . …

Javier drove with one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on your knee, drawing circles on your thigh over the sheer material covering your skin. Late on a chilly December night, the streets were empty, and the drive was easy. The city was unusually peaceful.

“I still can’t believe you pulled that off,” you murmured dreamily. He squeezed your knee in response.

A few minutes later, he’d stopped at a light when you quietly said his name. He turned to you and found you staring at him. You looked relaxed and happy. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you how handsome you look tonight. All dressed up for me,” you offered sweetly. “You’re absolutely breathtaking.”

“How much did you have to drink?” he deflected.

“One drink hours ago. Nice try, but I’m sober.” You laughed but your teasing tone gave way to something softer. “You really are the most beautiful man.”

In his periphery, the light changed, bathed the inside of the car in a bright green light. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from your beautiful face. Not when such an open, vulnerable sincerity graced your features.

“The light’s green,” you whispered.

“I know.”

A small smile broke out on your face.

… . …

Behind you, Javier trailed soft, lazy kisses along the slope of your neck as he slowly unzipped your dress, letting it hang loose around you. Your eyes fluttered shut as he smoothed his hands down your exposed back, thumbs gently digging into your flesh to massage your tired muscles. Every kiss, every touch, stoked the fire he’d ignited inside you hours ago.

“Let it fall,” he murmured against your skin. You slipped the straps over your shoulders and the fabric pooled at your feet. Then you reached for the clasp of your bra. “Leave it. I’ll take it off when I want to.” You bit back a devilish smile as he continued his ministrations. His lips followed his hands down your spine, and you gasped when he placed a kiss on the small of your back.

“Can’t decide how I want you first,” he mused.

“I want your mouth on me.”

He kneaded the flesh of your ass as he placed the lightest kiss on one cheek. “It is.”

“Not there.”

At your complaint, he snapped the garter belt strap so it stung against your flesh. But a firm hand on your back urged you forward until you were kneeling on the bed and he mouthed your cunt through the lace. “Here?” he asked, voice muffled.

“Yes,” you moaned, desperate for more.

“Maybe I should clean the mess I made on your pussy.” Without waiting for an answer, he pulled the fabric away and sealed his mouth over your hot, wet core, drawing an inarticulate slew of curses from you.

Hands gripping the backs of your thighs right at the tops of your stockings, he alternated between sucking on your clit, teasing the little bundle of nerves between his lips, and fucking you with his tongue. The constantly changing pressure was as intoxicating as it was frustrating — it was never enough but plenty to keep you hovering right on the cusp.

Until he finally – finally – gave you what you needed most.

Holding a steady pace as he flicked his tongue over your clit, Javier pushed you right over the edge.

Unable to breath, unable to move, unable to even think, you sobbed, cunt still pulsing around nothing, when he unceremoniously flipped you over and entered you. He slid into your dripping heat easily. And somehow, your first orgasm rolled right into the second as his cock struck something magic inside you, sparking a whole new wave of pleasure.

“You can’t stop coming, can you?” he asked, grunting as he pounded into you.

It just kept going. And going. Wave after wave relentlessly rolling through you. Unceasing in the best way imaginable. Javier knew your body so fucking well. He was the only one who knew how to do this to you. “No,” you mewled deliriously, body still shaking under him.

He thumbed away a tear rolling down your cheek. You hadn’t even realized you were crying. His hand left your face to knead a lace covered breast. “You look so fucking hot.”

“Fuck me harder, Javi.”

He pulled out all the way and your hips lifted, chasing him, but he pushed your knees to your chest and shouldered between your legs. “You’re not going to be able to walk when I’m done with you.”

“Good. I wanna feel you for days.” you said, ignoring the pang in your heart that told you that you were going to miss him.

“Fuck,” he spat. Your cunt drenched his cock as he slipped back inside, and your breath hitched as he hit deeper at the new angle.

“Right there!” you cried, arching up against him, “oh, God, right there!”

“One more. Give me one more,” Javier demanded, lacing your fingers together and pining your hands above your head, “But not until I tell you.”

You nodded eagerly, happy to give him whatever he wanted. “I get to tell you when too. Please, Javi.”

“Whatever you want baby. You fucking earned it.”

He kept slamming into you and every stroke of his cock rubbed against your inner walls perfectly. You swore you could almost feel every ridge and every vein of his thick length as he fucked you. Your third orgasm was tantalizingly within reach. You just needed his blessing, and you’d break.

“Alright, baby,” he panted as he rocked his hips against yours, grinding his pelvis against your clit, “cum all over my cock.”

Just like that, that tight coil inside you he’d been winding up all night snapped, and you came for a third time with a wanton cry. His name tumbled from your lips repeatedly as your body writhed beneath him, cunt spasming around his cock.

“I need to cum,” he ground out, voice cutting through the haze of pleasure.

“Ask me nicely,” you teased when your senses had returned to you just enough that you decided it was your turn to play with Javier. You wanted it to be just as good for him as he made it for you.

“Please.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“No.”

“Baby, please.” Javier’s broken words trembling around the edges as he begged you. His brown eyes, eclipsed by his dilated pupils and wet around the edges, stared deeply into yours and you almost gave in.

“Don’t stop.”

He made a desperate sound but kept going, snapping his hips against yours harder and harder.

“Almost there, Javi. You’re doing so good for me,” you praised, encouraging him. His jaw clenched and you kissed his neck, sucking hard on the straining muscles. His hands gripped yours so tight it hurt, and his face screwed up as he panted with each thrust. “You can cum for me, Javi. Fill me up.”

His lips crashed against yours in a desperate gratitude, and his hips stuttered as he came hard. He gasped for breath even as your mouths moved messily together. His cock twitched inside you as he painted your cunt like you’d been patiently waiting for all evening, until his body gave out and he collapsed on top of you, still locked in an embrace.

“Was that good for you?” you asked. When you didn’t get an answer, you prodded his side. He startled, eyes suddenly blinking up at you.

“What?”

“I asked if that was good for you?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that was... it’s always good with you but that was...” He trailed off and you thought he might’ve actually fallen asleep on you. “I’ve never cum so hard in my life. I think I fucking blacked out.”

“I didn’t know my pussy was that good.”

“Are you kidding me? I fucking love your pussy.” He was positively beaming at you. He cursed with a sigh as he laid his head back on your chest and you threaded your fingers through his damp locks, holding him close while you could.

… . …

You sat half in Javier’s lap in the middle of your bed, sheets strewn about from your previous activities, both completely naked but freshly showered. He moved his mouth against yours, tasting you, drinking you in until he was as lightheaded from your kisses as from the champagne. His hands roamed your body, touching you for no real reason other than to memorize your gentle curves. One hand cupped a breast and the other squeezed your hip, both moving slowly until they met to cradle your face.

He pulled away to look at you. No fancy dress, no jewelry, no make-up. Just you.

“Still stunning,” he whispered.

You smiled softly and pressed your lips to the bridge of his nose. “Still handsome,” you countered. Chills erupted across his skin, but you mistook his reaction. “Come here.” you pulled the blankets up as you settled back against the headboard. He followed, swiping the bottle of champagne off the nightstand. Without bothering with glasses, surely a disservice to something so expensive, he took a swig and handed it to you. It was bubbly and light and perfect for the evening.

“You never told me what you’re doing for the holidays.”

“Oh, nothing much,” you responded as you took the bottle from him. “Bev’s family celebrates Christmas. They always do gifts with the kids in the morning but then her mom and in-laws and whoever else in the family is around go over for a big dinner. She insists I come to keep her sane. Her mom and mother-in-law don’t exactly get along.”

“What about New Year’s?”

You took a long pull before sighing. “Well, I usually spend the night with Sunny watching old movies and drinking too much wine.” Your face pinched. “That sounds much sadder when I say it out loud.”

“You don’t mind being alone?”

“It’s been this way for years now.” You smiled, a rueful thing. “I’m used to it. I’m usually so tired after the quarter ends that I don’t mind the time alone.” You tried to brush it off, but he could hear the sadness in your voice.

“You could–” Javier stopped himself. “You could call. Anytime. I’ll give you my dad’s home number so you can reach me.”

That time your smile reached your eyes, crinkling the corners as you looked away bashfully. “That’s really sweet of you.” You reached for his hand and added, “I’ll call you at midnight in Laredo.”

“We’ll talk until midnight in Los Angeles.”

You curled up next to him before Javier could decipher your expression.

When he felt your breathing even out, surely sated from the sex and exhausted after the quarter, he pried the bottle from your grasp. He finished the last bit before setting it aside and switching off the lamp, careful not to disturb you.

Javier held you close, not unlike the way you’d held him the night before. He knew he needed to get his shit together. He didn’t want you to see that part of him. He needed to protect you from his past. But he didn’t know how to do that when he couldn’t even protect himself.

He flicked off the light and hoped for a peaceful sleep.

… . …

The first thing you noticed when you woke up the next morning was the dark bruise that you’d sucked onto Javier’s neck the night before. You ran your fingertips over it, outwardly cringing but inwardly, well, preening. This time it had been you who left those little love bites on his neck.

“Did you mark me?” he asked, his voice barely more than a quiet rumble. “Fucking felt that last night.”

“I didn’t mean to,” you answered, looking up at him as innocently as possible.

“Don’t lie to me,” he grumbled as his eyes blinked open. “You were a woman determined last night.”

“Why didn’t you stop me?”

“I liked it,” he grinned, but it faded quickly. “I forgot I was going home today. My dad’s picking me up at the airport.”

“Oh shit,” you laughed, burying your face against his chest.

“Don’t laugh. That’s not funny.”

“Maybe you should try buttoning your shirt like a normal person for once.”

In one smooth movement, he flipped you over and caged you beneath him. “You’re pushing your luck,” he tried to warn, but the grin on his face and the glint in his eyes betrayed him.

“What time is your flight?” you asked, soothing a hand across his face.

“One.” He glanced over at the clock. “It’s ten now.”

You wondered, just for a moment, if he would stay with you if you asked him to. If he would pass the holidays with you so you wouldn’t have to be alone. But that was foolish. And more than a little selfish. He had his family to go home to.

“You should probably go.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, “I should.”

He eased his hold on you but made no move to leave. Not until he’d placed a kiss on your lips and one on your forehead in a gentle goodbye.

... . ...

Thank you for reading! 💗

Forever Tags: @leo-moon @readsalot73 @frietiemeloen @huliabitch @jerusomeeno @benedrylcumbersnatch @b0n-chann @scapricciatello @liadamerondjarin @pedropasscals @paintballkid711 @mistermiraclee @honeyand-roses

Curriculum Vitae Tags: @softpedropascal @roxypeanut @unstoppableforcce @technicallykawaiisoul @mrsparknuts @weirdowithnobeardo @seeking-a-great--perhaps @assultsofthought @arrowswithwifi @larakasser @romewritingshop @none-of-your-bullshit @the-bird-suit @magneticbucky @bbygrgu @luminarahan @buckstaposition @grapemama @emzd34 @itsilvermorny

Javier: @wander-lustbabe

Tag lists are always open.

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #narcos #narcos fanfic #javier peña x you #fic: curriculum vitae

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keltonwrites · 3 years

Text

Where no one knows your name

How many times is a person meant to make new friends? When I moved into an apartment in DC with an absolutely iconic girl from Craigslist, I wrote in my journal, “you never know when you’ll meet your next bridesmaid.” Charmingly juvenile, as I was 24 years old. Ironic, as I never had any bridesmaids. And embarrassing, knowing I wrote something that’s surely been embroidered on a bachelorette party t-shirt by now. My point was: you can meet people you fall in love with anywhere, anytime, assuming your heart (and calendar) are open. Now my heart and calendar are open and I am one of Elizabeth Bennet’s sad sisters, cloying and desperate for attention while everyone at the ball ignores me. Meeting people here is unnerving and hapless and eye-clawingly vulnerable. My first new friend told me she was moving away in a few months. Do you invest deeply in hopes of another faraway friendship? Do you just go back to waving as you pass on the street? I like this girl! What an embarrassing thing to have to say to someone! Do you just invite people to every and anything like a lunatic? I can’t even remember to call the people I am forever-and-ever in cahoots with. I’m also deeply bound by what I’ll call the Movie Trap: say it’s 3pm during not-a-pandemic, and you get the urge to see a movie. You look at the showings, and there’s one you really want to see at 7:15. You think to yourself, “I should make an effort,” and you text a friend. “Hey, you wanna go see This Cool Movie at 7:15 tonight?” No one ever says yes. Don’t give me an example of when someone has, because it’s always one of these answers:

“Oooh, I’m actually seeing it with Kate tomorrow - wanna come?”

“Can we go to the 9pm showing? Stuck at work.”

“Yeah but let’s see Movie You’ll Fucking Hate instead.”

Now maybe I’m just lighting flares guiding you to the worst parts of my personality, but this drives me nuts. No, Liz, I don’t want to go tomorrow. I want to go tonight. At 7:15. So I can be in bed by 10. And you’d have to drag my dead body and prop open my eyes to get me to see something like Marriage Story in theaters. The Movie Trap is a big reason I usually hang out by myself, or I make plans weeks in advance. (Don't I sound like a blast.) Just the idea of being like, “I like you! Wanna hang out in October?” makes me want to collapse into a puddle of sad adulthood. Which is why on Friday at 4:30pm, when a girl I’d met a week prior asked if I wanted to grab a drink, I just said yes. I put on a pretty dress, did my makeup, put stuff in a purse, and drove the 25 minutes to town. It was really fun! And how novel to have new contacts in my phone like “Maggie blue house” and “Jess concert friend” — a throwback to the days of “Greg guy on L train” and “Devon ad party.” The very concept of not knowing someone’s last name or even needing it, and a year from now updating their contact info and smiling at your origin story. But for the most part, no one is in our phones. In terms of phone numbers collected, here is the list:

Two friends we knew prior who thank god you guys exist.

New friend who is moving away.

New friend who is game to drink tequila and ride mountain bikes.

Neighbor-not-yet-friend who I really fucking like and am not sure how to cross hang-out threshold with.

Not to say there aren’t any other prospects or people I’m platonically gaga over, but I don’t have their phone numbers. There are honestly a lot of people like this because when you live in a small town (and you’re from the Midwest) you say “oop, sorry” to every person/object you bump into, and you say “hi :)” to every person you see. These are the rules. If I drive by you and don’t wave, it’s because I was so deep in a daydream I probably shouldn’t have been driving in the first place. This isn’t acceptable, because in our urgency to tattoo our vaccination status on our foreheads so we can make friends, it turns out just driving by someone can be a viable strategy. A few days ago, a man was driving by our kitchen window and then our driveway, and then he reversed back up to the kitchen window and started waving. Ben went outside — it was that kind of wave. The man had seen from his car a smokejumper emblem on the back of a truck in our driveway. “Hey, are you a smokejumper?” We aren’t. But my dad was, and he was in town visiting, accompanied by the emblem on the back of his truck. The guy said we should drink sometime. Numbers were not exchanged. We’ll call that a node, because it’s not quite a connection. And it’s mainly nodes, waiting to be connected, to have relevance. But first, no matter who you’re trying to befriend, you have to answer everyone else’s Do I Care Quiz. The quiz is employed by 93% of locals to determine how they feel about you existing within their personal 50-mile radius. The first question is non negotiable:

1) Are you visiting?

Variations on this question include “how long are you in town?” or “what brings y’all to town?” or my least favorite and most insulting, “did you just finish Jeeping?” I know I have blonde hair and say y’all, but how dare you. (Also, to be clear, you can own a Jeep, customize your Jeep, mod out your Jeep, and love your Jeep, but you’re not Jeeping until you drive too fast through a tiny town so you can hurl your Jeep over a mountain pass without ever getting out of it.) So the answer to “are you visiting” is “no, I live here.” Which brings us to the next question, my favorite for how loaded the gun, kneeling in the grass, scope on, target locked it is.

2) Are you part-time or full-time?

The first time I answered this question, I didn’t realize it was essentially like asking how someone voted in the 2020 election. The judgment was cocked and ready and the palpable relief/joy/or at the very least, tolerance, exuded by answering “full-time” was like when the sun comes out from behind the clouds on a 40 degree day. I was fine, but wow that does feel better. The third question though does not have a standard hoped-for answer. This is where nodes turn to connections turn to phone numbers.

3) What brings you here?

It seems like the best possible answer would be saying you work in town, and you’re going to begin construction on displaced-worker housing to ensure the people who run this town can actually live in it. We’d have everyone’s phone number. Saying you’re a writer who works remotely and bought a house from a legendary and beloved local who could no longer afford it is really something you keep to yourself. But in the interest of making friends, I just word vomit my entire history. We might as well find out at the onset if I make your eyes roll back into your skull. Not at all threatening that all it takes is a single social signal misinterpreted to be the absolute death knell of my ability to make friends in a town of some 1400 adults. In fact, I’ll share one such interaction. I was hiking with Cooper, about 5 miles by foot away from my house. I was on a trail, crossing a sloped meadow, and a group was traversing up the hillside to the trail. I said hi, where y’all coming from. One girl answered and we talked about the trail. She eyed me up and down. “Did you just move here?” “I did!” “I served your family last week,” she said. “Oh,” that phrasing. “Must have been my in-laws.” “Heard you bought Jack’s house. Such a bummer when locals like that are forced out.” “We didn’t even know about his house,” I said. “We were looking at another house and he asked his realtor if he could get us to come see his house. We just loved it, and him!” She had no emotional reaction to this. “You moved from California?” she asked. (Dangerous question.) “Yeah, got these sea level lungs, haha,” attempting to disarm with humor was a failure, “but couldn’t be happier to be out of California.” “It’s not like this all year. Winter’s really hard here, you’re in for a rude awakening.” “Well California’s the last place I lived, but I’m not from there. I’ve lived in brutal winters. At least Colorado gets sun!” I laugh with cloaked loathing. “It’s different when you live at altitude,” she said, like no human aside from her had ever been literally anywhere. “Are you trying to go around?” She indicated the path behind her. “No, y’all go ahead, just gonna wait to give you your space. I’m sure you’re faster than me.” “K, good luck making it to the lake." Maybe she was thirsty. Maybe she was hungover. Maybe she just has vicious delivery, but it felt like every blade of grass was leaning against the wind to listen. She was with four other people and not one of them said a word. I left that interaction not wanting to see another human ever again. But that interaction, and her intimate knowledge of exactly which house I lived in, made me want to decorate like we lived in a gingerbread house, all candy canes and plum drops, screaming to any passerby that we’re friendly. One of the mayor’s first questions to me was “what are you going to do to the house?” There are rules here about what your house can look like, and I kept emphasizing we bought the house because we loved it, not because we wanted to change everything about it. And now, instead of wanting to decorate the interior, I want to put up shades so we don’t contribute to light pollution, I want to hang a sign by the water spigot saying “grab some if you need” for hikers and mountain bikers, I want to paint a sign for the wild mint by our door that says, “I mint to tell you to take some,” because our neighbors were openly panicked they wouldn’t be able to just grab mint from the cabin’s garden anymore. Without question, COVID makes things harder. Dinner parties feel like dares. Dropping cookies off at someone’s house feels invasive. Grabbing a drink feels like the ultimate sign of trust. But at least we have nodes who can connect who can think to invite us and who can see that despite having lived in California, we’re not all that bad. In the meantime, I’ll be painting signs about water and mint, hoping to garner the benefit of the doubt from the so beautifully, earnestly, and waiting-to-see-if-you’re-worth-it doubtful.

Subscribe to the newsletter at tinyletter.com/keltonwrites — high altitude relocation and renovation in a tiny mountain town.

#amwriting #newsletter #making friends #how to make new friends #adulthood #small town life

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

scopaesthesia 👁️ chapter 5

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4

Warnings: nonconsensual sex, death, murder, violence, stalking, paranoia, blood, gore, bloodplay, knifeplay, suicidal thoughts.

This is dark!Bucky Barnes with a likelihood off dark!Steve Rogers as well and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You find yourself trapped.

Note: So I managed to finish this chapter before work really starts to kick my ass. Just letting y’all know, there will be a part 6 but I have an 11 hour day tomorrow and work straight through to wednesday so I’ll probably be exhausted.

That being said, I appreciate y’all reading and your reactions have been the highlight of writing!

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You coughed into the blackness. Your awakening was gradual as you waded through the void and slowly broke the surface of consciousness. Your throat was dry and sore and your head swelled with each breath. You reached to touch the tender flesh along your neck, bruised by the rope which had so violently been strung around it. You only recalled the dread of your suffocation before the world turned dark.

As you moved, bright lights flicked on suddenly and you groaned as your eyes watered. You trembled as you pushed yourself up on the bed. The room was small, just big enough for the large bed and the metal chest secured with a heavy padlock. There was a heavy door with a slot and no handle and another smaller door to your left.

You shimmied to the side of the bed and turned your legs over the edge. You slowly turned as the wall behind the bed stood in contrast to the rest of the sterile white room. Every inch around the low frame, from floor to ceiling, was pasted in images and documents. A startling map of your existence.

Pictures of you in the grocery store, at work, on the train or even in your apartment, spanning years back. There were even a few of your dorm room, long forgotten to the haze of your college years. A transcript of your credits and copies of your resume and even pages of the journal you thought only known to you. The one you’d thought you lost in your move from student to adult. And the drawings; just as you remembered, sickening and horrifying.

You stood, unsteadily, and neared the demented collage. There were other pictures; of women who looked like you; crying, screaming, bleeding. You grabbed one and tore it off the wall. You crumpled it up, unable to look at the woman’s dead eyes.

You flinched as the heavy door jolted suddenly and you turned as it opened. You dropped the picture and pressed yourself to the wall as Bucky entered and the door closed behind him. His blue eyes were predatory and intent on you. His right hand twitched as he cleared his throat.

“Sit,” he said softly.

You gaped at him and shook your head. You quaked as you edged over to the corner as if you could hide there.

“Baby girl…” he warned, “Please, don’t make this difficult. I don’t want to hurt you.”

You grazed your neck with your fingertips and scoffed. The sharp breath scratched your throat and made you wince.

“You made me do that,” he said, “Please, sit.”

You blinked at him. His left hand balled into a fist and he shifted on his feet. Your heart jumped and your lip quivered. Slowly, you pushed yourself away from the wall and neared the bed. You sat sideways against the wall with one leg hanging to the floor. You folded your hands and braced for the unraveling of his wrath.

“Good girl,” he preened. “I just want to talk. That’s all I came for.”

“You’re a murderer,” you rasped, “So just kill me already.”

He smiled and chuckled. He took a breath and ran his fingers through his hair. He neared the end of the bed and gripped his hips.

“If that was what I wanted, I wouldn’t have waited so long.” He said. “All you have to do is listen, baby girl. And if you can do that, I will bring you a treat.”

“I don’t want anything from you,” you muttered, “You’re disgusting. You’re…” you shook your head as you couldn’t put into words how he made your stomach twist and churn.

He sniffed and took a deep breath.

“Where were you seven years ago? What were you doing?”

“Looks like you already know,” you paused and tried to clear your sore throat. You coughed and pressed your hands to your neck.

“You were just a student, yes?” He shifted on his feet as he spoke, “Innocent, unaware. Running across campus to get to your next class. So clueless you didn’t even notice the man you collided with. Didn’t notice me with that look in my eyes; distant, determined.”

You frowned, confused. You shrugged. You didn’t remember.

“And what did you think when you heard of what happened to the dean?”

Your heart dropped. You remembered that. It was in the headlines for weeks; the mysterious attack on the dean of criminology. It was revealed that he was a former intelligence officer but it could not be linked substantially to the event. He resigned shortly after and as any new cycle, the story washed itself out.

“You--?”

He sighed and his eyes darkened. “What I was… then. What they made me.”

“I don’t--”

“Shhhh,” he hushed you and neared the bed until his legs touched the mattress. “I was their weapon; a machine. My job was death but that day, their weapon failed. Their weapon was distracted and for that the weapon was reforged, honed, beaten down until it was once more sharp enough to use.”

You shook your head in confused, Your fingers curled until your nails cut into your palms.

“Even when they wiped my mind, you remained. The girl who smiled at me without thought; who apologized and asked if I was okay… Who gave me directions to the right building… never knowing… because she thought I was good.”

“I don’t remember. I don’t know you…”

He held up a finger and tapped his lips. You went silent and watched him.

“When I was free, when I found Bucky again, I found you.” He breathed. “And you were the same. Flitting around without a care. And you ran into me again and you apologized, as you had before, and not a second thought to the man who watched you run for the train. To the man who held the door for you the next day or returned to you the card you dropped on the sidewalk. Always just a smile.”

You touched your cheeks. You remembered the card, some forgotten coffee rewards counter you never used. It came clearer then. His gloves hand holding the cardstock, his blue eyes. It was just another random interaction in the chaotic city. But it wasn’t.

“No…” you shook your head, “But why--”

“You see, the people who corrupted me, their control has nothing to do with what I am. It is a part of me. The soldier, Bucky… one does not exist without the other. Bucky fell in love with you, Bucky wanted you, but the soldier… he didn’t how to help Bucky. How to get you. So he found the girls and he tried to figure it out.”

“Stop. Please. I can’t--”

“But even the soldier couldn’t hurt you,” he put one knee on the bed. “Bucky won’t let him.”

As he placed his other knee on the mattress, you turned to get off the bed. He caught your ankle before you could and pulled you down the bed. He climbed over you and straddled you beneath him. You struck out at him and he stopped your hands, gripping your wrists tightly.

“I told you, I won’t hurt you.” He said softly.

“You are hurting me,” you tried to pull away from him and wiggled beneath him.

“I am trying to help you,” he pushed your hands beside your head, pinning them to the bed. “I only want to love you.” He bent over you and his hot breath tickled your lips. “To feel you.”

“Please, you can’t-- I never-- I’m scared, Bucky. Please don’t hurt me.” You begged. “Please…”

His eyes narrowed and his jaw tensed. He glared at you and pressed his forehead to yours. He let go of your arms and his hands gripped your head instead.

“Listen. I’m not going to hurt you,” he growled. “But I will if you make me.”

You stared at him, paralysed beneath him. He squeezed your head until it pulsed then pushed himself up suddenly. He climbed off of you, jostling the bed, and scanned the wall of photos. He lowered his chin and nodded.

“Take your clothes off.” He said.

You stayed as you were, stunned and scared. He looked at you slowly and his lips curled.

“Do it or I will.” He warned.

You sat up. You were numb as you skirted to the edge of the bed and pulled your tee over your head. He snatched it from you and you stood to unbutton your jeans. You rolled them down and he took them in turn. You struggled to unhook your bra as you trembled and he spun you sharply. He snapped the clasp and the fabric fell away from your chest. He gathered it up and tore your panties just as easily. He even bent to take your socks as they sat balled on the floor.

You tried to cover yourself as you turned back to him. He marched to the door and stopped. He looked back at you and gritted his teeth.

“Good girl,” he smirked and then turned around and looked above the door.

A small lens sat above the frame and the door unlocked. He opened it with his foot and sent you one last glance before he pulled it shut. You slumped onto the bed and folded your legs against your chest. There was only the sheet stretched across the mattress and a single pillow. You shivered and hung your head.

You felt the eyes of all the dead women behind you. Felt the weight of their souls. And yet you were horribly alone.

👁️

Shortly after he left you, a tray was slid through the slot in the door. You ignored it at first but your stomach began to ache as the hours dripped by. You took the tray and rested it on the foot of the bed as you sat carefully. You took a long gulp from the bottle of water and the muscles of your neck reminded you of your assault.

The sandwich was cut neatly in half; ham and cheese with mustard. You chewed it without tasting and emptied the cup of applesauce. That was all you could manage and you set the tray in the corner.

The other door, the smaller one, opened up to a small booth. A toilet and sink only. You refused to be thankful for anything but were relieved to have at least that.

You hugged the pillow for much of the time. Your only shield against the cold and your nudity. You dozed off for a little, a shallow, distraught slumber.

You were awoken by the door. You sat up dizzily and stared at the figure as it cleared in your vision. The lights were dimmer as Bucky moved around. He went to the metal chest and opened the lock. You pulled the pillow to you as he closed the lid and plopped a roll atop it.

He turned to you and you cowered as he knelt on the bed. Wordlessly, he pulled on your arm until it bent painfully away from the pillow. You fought with him as he dragged it to the top corner.

“What are you doing?” You whined. “Please, don’t--”

You choked on your voice as he pulled up a leather cuff over the mattress. He wrapped it around your wrist despite your struggles and buckles it.

“Bucky, Bucky, please--”

He hushed you and grabbed your other arm. You kicked you as he forced you onto your back and shook the whole bed as he secured your other wrist. You hit his shoulder with your heel before he grabbed your left ankle and tied in down before he did the same to the right. You were stuck, stretched across the bed, writhing and whimpering as he backed away.

“What--”

“Baby girl,” he tapped his fingers atop the metal chest. “I don’t want to gag you… You have such a pretty mouth.”

You grunted and tugged on your binds. It was pointless. Even if you got loose, there was no way out of this room, no escape from this monster. Your eyes drifted to the wall above you and you closed them against the sight of the tortured women. Would he do the same to you?

You heard a clink and your eyes snapped open. You looked over at the knives that lined the fabric roll and you sobbed. You let out a pathetic squeal that slowly built to a scream.

“Please, please, please!” You shouted. “Don’t do this!”

“Baby girl,” he hummed as he dragged his fingers over the blades. “I told you, you’re safe with me.”

He turned and his eyes roved over your body. He let out a thick breath and grabbed the bottom of his shirt. He pulled it over his head and let it heap on the floor. His gaze clung to you as he undid his belt and pushed his pants down. He forced his boots off as he stepped out of his jeans and his socks went with them. He undressed methodically, never looking away from you.

You grunted as you tried desperately to free yourself. This animal, this monster, was coming for you.

He went to the chest and slid a knife from the row. You bounced in frustration on the bed and shook your head. No, no, no, this couldn’t happen. His weight caused the bed to dip as he lowered himself between your legs. He looked up at you as he pressed the cold blade to your thigh. You squeaked and bit down.

“You see, if one doesn’t know what they’re doing then it’s difficult to know what cuts will kill and which won’t,” he slithered. “But if they do, they know how much pressure, what angle,” he pushed the point down and you felt it pierce your skin, “where to cut… just for a taste. That’s all.”

He sliced along your thigh, a shallow but painful cut. You cried out and he did the same to your other leg. Your feet arched as your muscles tensed and you pulled against the cuffs.

The warmth of your blood was met by the heat of his mouth. You gasped as lapped at the flow and smeared it over your skin as he edged closer to your cunt. You grasped at air as your fingers curled and uncurled. You let out pathetic noises as he pressed his thumb to the slice along your other thigh.

He purred as he brushed his tongue along your pussy. He pushed carefully between your folds and you gulped. The tingle it sent through you had your heart hammering. He spread his hand over your thigh and his other gripped your hip as his tongue teased you.

He sucked on your clit as his hand slipped further up. You pushed your head down into the mattress as you felt a storm of hot and cold fill your core. He needed to stop. He had to stop. You couldn’t feel like this. It was wrong. He trapped you, he cut you, and now he was toying with you.

He traced two fingers along the crease of your thighs and pushed against your entrance. You moaned and he dipped them inside slowly. He stretched you around his vibranium digits until his knuckles were pressed to your cunt. He curled his fingers and moved them in time with his tongue.

You bared your teeth as you tried to resist the instinctual response of your body. The way your core pulsed and buzzed without your consent. You whined as he brought you closer and closer to your peak. Between your mewls, one word was clear; ‘no, no, no.”

You went rigid as the waves rolled over you and your climax overwhelmed your fear. He urged you through it, his fingers working into you quickly as your sighs turned to sobs. He didn’t stop until you were shaking and wincing against his touch.

He raised his head and drew his fingers from inside you. You looked down at him, his beard and nose stained red. Your stomach flipped and your fear spiked once more. He took the knife from beside your leg and backed off the bed. His cock bobbed with each step as he went to the chest and unsheathed another blade.

He returned to you. This time he moved to straddle you as he turned the knife in his hand. He admired the sheen of the metal and poked your lips with the tip. He trailed over your chin and traced the line of your cheek. His blue eyes sparkled as he teased you.

“You’re beautiful…” he breathed, “I could never ruin that face.”

He brought the blade to your neck and lingered on the still tender flesh. He continued on to your chest and circled your nipples. His hand cupped one tit as the knife played with the other. He moved his hips and grinded against you.

He closed his eyes and took a breath. He hovered the knife below your clavicle and turned the tip to your skin. He split the flesh slowly along the centre of your chest, a red line rising between your breast. Again, it was shallow, enough to bleed, enough to make you sick.

He set the knife down on the mattress and his fingers crawled along the incision. Your torn skin stung at his touch and he bent over you. He traced the line with his tongue and lifted his head. He pressed his hot lips to yours and forced his tongue inside. You tasted the metallic taint of your own blood and groaned.

His chest rubbed against your and you felt the warmth as it spread across his skin. His hand felt around as he lifted his pelvis and moved his knee between your legs. He slickened his fingers with your blood and once more began to play with your cunt. You squirmed and tried to turn your head away from him. He bit down on your lip and shoved his fingers inside of you.

“Baby girl,” He drew away, “You’re ready for me.”

“No--” He pulled his fingers out of you and his hand came up to wrap around your neck and he shushed you once more.

His eyes bore into yours as he angled his hips. He shifted as his tip poked along your cunt. He slowly pressed against you until he slipped inside. You grunted and bit down on your lip. You shook your head as his hand grew tighter. He eased into you an inch at a time and your eyes rolled back as he reached his limit.

He sighed as he moved his thighs flush to yours. His heavy breaths filled your ears as he began to rock. He thrust into you carefully, relishing in each long stroke. He hummed as he kept a steady rhythm. You squeezed your eyes shut as you tried to resist the burgeoning swell in your core.

He moved fast and pushed himself up, his hand still on your neck, nearly crushing your windpipe. His other hand stretched across the gash on your chest and he slammed into you harder and harder. The clap of his flesh echoed through the room as the blood from your thighs seeped onto his.

The bed quaked beneath your bodies as he pounded into you, his voice rising with each tilt of his hips. Your own breathy moans floated in the air and knotted in your chest.

“Baby girl,” he growled, “Fuck, you feel so good… you taste so good.”

He lifted his hand from your chest and you opened your eyes. He licked your blood from his hand, his left still firmly at your throat.

“You’re gonna look so pretty,” he touched the cut again and played with your blood. His chest was marked with red and it trickled down his muscled stomach as he hammered into you. “This is gonna be a pretty little mark, isn’t it?”

You gnashed your teeth and turned your head. You stared at the blank wall as your thighs tensed against his. You gasped as your orgasm rose violently and your body spasmed.

Bucky let go of your neck and grabbed the knife. Your eyes followed the blade and he pressed it along his chest and cut into his left peck. He stilled as the blood leaked from his flesh and he put the knife aside once more. He coated his fingers in his blood and wiped them across your lips. He forced his way inside your mouth and began to fuck you again.

He lowered himself over you. He slipped his fingers from your mouth and grabbed your chin. He kissed you deeply, tasting the mix of your blood. He pulled away as he began to pant and rutted into you without relent. He snarled and pressed his lips to your cheek.

“You feel that, baby girl,” he rasped, “Hmm, you’re going to make me cum. You want it inside of you?”

“Please--” you whispered.

“I’m gonna fill you up, baby girl. Over and over--” He jerked his hips with each word, “And over-- and over--”

He hissed and thrust into as deep as he could. He spasmed and rolled his hips as his cum spilled into you. He slowed and let his weight down onto you. You could feel his heart pounding in his chest and your own beat loudly in your ears.

“Over and over… baby girl,” he murmured and flinched. He slid his arm up under you and slowly moved his hips. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

👁️

You were in a daze when Bucky finally untied you. He left you limp across the bed as he packed up the knives and locked them away. He sat lightly on the edge of the bed with a wet cloth and began to wipe away the blood from your cuts. You winced but only closed your eyes and waited for it to be over.

Your entire body hurt. You lost count of how many times he’d fucked you. He cut you again on your thighs and under your breasts. You were caked in your own blood and sweat. He washed you gently and you let him. You hoped he would go when he finished.

He stood and you heard the heavy lid of the chest again. He returned to you and wiped each cut; the alcohol tickled your nostrils and burned your skin. The bleeding had mostly stopped but he bandaged each carefully. The crumple of wrappers and the tinny clasp of metal. He rose again and the padlock was snapped shut.

“You have to keep yourself clean, baby girl,” he said. “I’ve left some bandages and wipes out for you. I’ll be back tomorrow to check on you.”

You ignored him and rolled onto your side painfully. You shivered and hugged yourself. You’d wait for him to leave before you cried. You listened to him dress. He hadn’t cleaned himself up. Your blood was still smeared over his face.

“Good night, baby girl.” He looked at you for a moment. “Are you cold? Do you want a blanket?”

You didn’t answer and just stared at the wall.

“It’s okay, baby girl,” he cooed as his footsteps neared the door, “It’ll take some time… but we both felt how much you liked it.”

The door opened and clunked behind him. Your eyes pricked and you closed them as the tears began to fall. You grabbed the pillow and hugged it as your entire body was wracked with sobs.

You wished he had cut you deeper. You wished he had just killed you. There was no other way out.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #mcu #marvel #serial killer #serial killer au #scopaesthesia #winter soldier

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ptergwen · 4 years

Text

heartbreaker

warnings: angst, swearing, drinking, and smut OK WOW

summary: never have i ever with your ex and current boyfriends is an interesting experience

a/n: excuse me for taking such a long ass time on this but super big shoutout to whoever requested it for being patient <3 i’ve been trying to write what y’all would actually be interested in so don’t be shy tell me what you want to read!! also italics are flashbacks and as always i hope everyone enjoys hehe

“never have i ever...” harry purses his lips and looks around at your table, “cheated on schoolwork. successfully.” everyone easily takes a sip of their beers, except harrison. you snort and tilt your bottle to where he’s sitting across from you.

“haz, how are you the only one?” “because this div used to copy all my shit in year eleven, and i’d be the one to get in trouble for it.” he elbows tom’s side, tom nudging him back. “should’ve turned yours in first, bro.” rolling his eyes, harrison bends the rules of the game by sipping his drink.

their silly bickering makes you realize how much you’ve missed hanging out with the boys like this. it makes you realize you how much you’ve missed the boys in general. the last time you even saw tom, really saw him, was for a catch up lunch. you had to rush it because he was in between onward press junkets.

before that was the day he left to film cherry, almost a year ago. it’s not at all something you like to remember. dwelling will just set you back, and you’ve come too far to let that happen. as far as one can go when the person they gave their whole heart to breaks it.

now you have luke, and tom has anyone in the world he wants. it’s a new relationship. you’ve only been seeing luke for about three months. you met him while buying some post-breakup ice cream. he randomly started a conversation with you on the line. you bonded over your hatred for chocolate and ended up trading numbers. since you’re slowly getting more serious, you invited luke to the pub tonight.

the meet the friends stage is an important one, and it’s not often that one of your closest would be available for it. tom’s thoughts and opinions still mean a lot to you. you’ll always love him, even if it’s not in the same way you once did. you know he’ll always love you right back. that’s why he did what he did in the first place. that’s what he told you, at least.

you spot luke searching for your table in the pub not too much later. sitting up straighter for him to see you, you wave him over. none of the boys knew that he was coming tonight, so you’re a bit nervous about what they might say. you just hope they’ll like each other as much as you like all of them.

“hey, y/n.” luke leans down and kisses your cheek. you smile up at him, scooting over in the booth to give him room to sit. you’re in between him and tom now. it’s pretty metaphorical if you think about it. “hi. good day?” “yeah, and super busy. i’m luke,” he reaches out his hand for any of the boys. harrison gives him a friendly shake. you haven’t noticed the way tom has been looking at you this whole time.

it’s like he wants to say something, but he’s biting his tongue.

harry shakes luke’s hand, then tom. he uses a firm grip paired with his signature lips pressed together smile. “good to meet you, man. what do you do again?” “i’m in journalism, so mostly chase people around all day.” tom clicks his tongue in a way that sounds like he approves. you’re not exactly sure what’s going through his head at the moment, but it seems to be good things so far.

“he’s just taking the piss. your writing is seriously amazing, luke. don’t downplay it.” you lean into the arm he outstretches across the back of the booth. he lets his hand move to your shoulder and pulls you in closer.

tom stares down at the floor. his leg bounces next to yours, one of his nervous habits you’ve become familiar with. picking up on his brother’s mood change, harry clears his throat to change the subject.

“let’s keep playing never have i ever. we were enjoying that earlier.” “great, i’ll go get everyone another round,” harrison volunteers himself and takes off for the bar. that was obviously his way of escaping the sudden awkwardness that came about.

you tap tom’s foot lightly with your own, making him look up at you. “doing okay over there?” “‘’m fine. my jetlag picked a bad time to act up, is all,” he lamely excuses himself and shifts the tiniest bit away from you.

you’ve seen jetlagged tom plenty of times, and this isn’t him. something else is clearly on his mind. you’d call him out on it and have a heart to heart, but it isn’t your place to do that anymore. you’re both still adjusting to the whole friends thing. it’s going to take time to get back to how close you were, especially with different boundaries in place.

harrison comes back with fresh beers and sets them down on the table. each of you grab one. tom immediately chugs half of his without bothering to wait for the game to continue. you’re not in the mood to watch him act like this, so you turn to face luke. that only encourages him to drink some more. harry is the one who steps in and pulls his bottle away.

“easy there, alcoholland. you gotta save some for when we play.” “right.” tom wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes already glossy. this isn’t how tonight was supposed to go.

“speaking of,” harrison starts, overly cheerful to make up for the way his friend is behaving. “it’s my turn.” “go for it,” you force a smile at him and swish the beer around in your glass. “this’ll definitely be good. never have i ever gone skinny dipping.”

the heat that rises to your cheeks gives you away before you can take a sip. with a shit-eating grin, tom snatches his beer out of harry’s hand. “gonna need this back, baby bro.” you shyly pick up your drink, tom and harrison being the only others who are guilty. harrison clinks his glass with yours, then you’re both gulping down your poison.

luke playfully raises his eyebrows at you when you’re finished. “i’m sorry, y/n, but i have to hear this story. you went skinny dipping?” cockiness absolutely oozing out of him, tom cuts in. “we went together, actually. i can help her tell this one.”

you spare everybody the explicit details of what happened, but it isn’t hard to guess them. tom is thankfully mature enough in the moment to not reveal much. now that luke knows the story, it feels like there’s tension between him and tom. he’s just too nice to let it show.

taking notes from tom, you impulsively finish off the rest of your drink in hopes of clearing your mind. you earn looks of concern from everyone except the man of the hour. he’s enjoying messing with you.

“that was a fun night, huh?” tom smirks at you. you close your eyes and rub your temples. sensing how off everything is, harrison leaves the table again to get you another drink. he sure has a talent for that.

you’re not sure why tom has to be such an ass tonight of all nights. you’ve already told him about you and luke before, actually he was the first person to know. he should’ve expected to meet him at some point. maybe then, his coping mechanism wouldn’t be getting drunk and making both of you look stupid.

“you okay?” luke nudges your shoulder with his hand. you give him a tight lipped smile. “yeah. sorry about all of that.” “no, it’s fine. i’m a big boy.” he glances over at tom, who’s poking harry’s cheek with a spoon. jesus christ.

harrison brings over another beer for you and a water for tom. you take your drink and push tom’s over to him. he decides to be immature and drops the spoon to switch your glasses. drunk tom is a child.

“are you serious right now? you need to learn when to cut yourself off.” you switch them again, taking a sip of your beer before tom can take it from you. he huffs and drinks his water like you said. you’re only doing this because you care about him. he’s probably too gone at the moment to understand that. if he’s going to think you’re a buzzkill for helping him out, oh well.

“so, babe,” luke makes a point to stress the word, “how about you do the next round of the game?” he leans into you again. you still haven’t taken your eyes off of tom.

“sure,” you agree absentmindedly. “um, never have i ever...” tom smiles lazily at you when he notices you’re looking at him. you forgot that drunk tom is also cute, but you’re not supposed to think that way anymore. not about him. you clear your throat. “never have i ever given myself a really bad hairstyle?”

everybody takes a drink this time, tom finishing his water. you’ve styled your hair in so many awful ways so many times, but only one comes to mind. it’s technically tom’s fault.

“come on, y/n/n, let me do it. i’ll even say please. please?” tom all but begs you for the third time. you look up at him from your phone to see him making puppy eyes at you. saying no to those is physically impossible.

you’ve been on hold with your hair salon for almost half an hour trying to make an appointment. they’re normally never this busy, but you really need to go. a person can only let their ends become so split.

for some reason, tom decided he wants to be a hairdresser today. he keeps offering to cut your hair for you instead. you’re not so sure you trust him with scissors, but he won’t stop asking about it unless you let him try. plus, this could be interesting.

you end the call with a sigh. perking up, tom grabs your hands. “so? that’s a yes?” “don’t make me regret this, tom.” he pulls you off the couch by your hands and leads you straight to the bathroom.

“should we wash it first? i think that’s what they do.” he turns on the sink, then goes into the shower to get your hair products. you lean back against the counter and watch him set up. you’re starting to feel kind of nervous about this. tom is usually good at everything he attempts, but something as permanent as a haircut, you’re not sure about.

“relax a bit, darling. you’ll be fine.” tom ruffles your hair with his fingers, making you crinkle your nose. “if it looks bad, no i won’t.” “it’s just hair.” he gets a towel off the rack and drapes it around your shoulders. you look at your hair in the mirror one more time, then lean back so your head is under the faucet. “you’re the one who uses a bottle of hair gel every day.”

“anyways,” you can hear the eye roll in tom’s voice. “let me know if the water’s too hot or too cold.” “nah, it’s good.” he opens your shampoo and squirts some into his hand. “see, i know what i’m doing.” you hum in response, tom’s fingers combing through your hair to make sure it’s wet enough.

you lift your head up from the water so tom can do the shampoo. it feels good, like you’re getting a massage but on your scalp. tom notices your small smile as he eases you down to rinse it out. “enjoying yourself?” you open an eye to see a smug look on his face. “for now, yeah.”

after all the shampoo is gone, tom starts with conditioner. he pulls all your hair to one side and runs through it with a brush a few times. you’re honestly impressed he knows what he’s doing. he must have learned from watching you do your own hair. he puts in the conditioner and twirls a loose strand of hair around his finger, letting it sit for a bit.

“i’ll admit it, you’re actually good at this,” you reach up and poke at his chest. tom pokes your cheek back, then gathers all of your hair again. “mm, thanks. you should let me do your hair for you more often.” “that’ll depend on if you can cut it.” with a chuckle, he lets the ends of your hair fall under the water again.

your hair all washed, tom helps you stand back up. he takes the towel from over your shoulders and uses it to scrunch your hair up. it falls over your face. you know he’s trying to do it so it stays in place, but that’s not what’s happening.

“i’ll do this part, babe,” you laugh to yourself and flip your head over. “pfft, yeah, i was totally gonna try that next,” tom jokes, searching through a drawer for scissors while you wrap your hair. he opens and closes them before dropping them on the counter.

“wanna sit? i don’t know how long this’ll take.” “oh, god. sure.” tom easily lifts you up by your waist and sits you on the counter. you giggle a little at the gesture. he’s full of surprises today. “there you are, m’lady. let’s get started.” he takes the towel off your head and squeezes your hair out with it one more time. pouting, you grab a few strands. “i’ll miss you guys so much.”

”stop it, i’m not even cutting that much off,” tom groans and stands in between your legs. you put your hands on his shoulders. “that’s the plan, but knowing you, you’ll end up giving me, like, a mohawk.” “you think i know how to do that?” your legs wrap around his waist, scooting yourself closer to the edge of the counter. “i hope not.”

tom wraps an arm around your waist and gives you a wicked smile. you probably should’ve asked him to section off your hair so he could cut it evenly, but it slipped your mind. he splits your hair in half the best he can and picks up the scissors. you’re facing him, so you can’t see what he’s about to do in the mirror.

“i’m gonna count to three, okay? one, two, three.” tom takes half of your hair and starts cutting it in a straight line, which is already a problem. it ends up creating this weird zigzag look that can’t be saved by just him. he realizes his mistake after he’s already holding your hair. “oh, shit..” he puts down the scissors and covers his mouth with his free hand. your eyes go wide. “what? what did you do?”

“i- i, um, we can fix it,” he tries, backing away before you freak out. you hop off the counter and turn around to see what happened. it’s long in the back and too short in the front. how did he mess up this bad in not even two minutes? you gasp and touch your disaster of a haircut.

“tom, what is this? it looks... i don’t even know what to say!” you spin back around, pointing at your half cut hair. he winces when he sees it again. “i’m so sorry, y/n/n. i thought-“ “no, you didn’t! you thought nothing! your mind literally must have been empty.” you sit on the floor with your head in your hands, tom crouching down in front of you.

“look at me, darling.” he puts a hand on your back. you scowl up at him. “it’s really not that bad. you’ll figure out a way to make this work.” “you’re so helpful,” you mumble, leaning your head forward so it’s resting on his chest. you’re being dramatic. he was trying to do something nice for you, and it’s not like this was on purpose. tom rubs circles on your back, you nuzzling your cheek into his shirt.

“should i leave the other side, or would that be worse?” “i can do it for you.” “absolutely not.”

“i could only wear my hair up for months because of you,” you laugh to tom, warming up to him again from the memory. he puffs some air out of his cheeks with a smile. “be happy you didn’t ask for bangs.” “that’s because i’d never be able to pull them off.” tom messes with your hair so it’s over your eyes, you pushing his hands away with a breathy laugh. “not true.”

luke shifts in his spot next to you to remind you he still exists. you glance over at him and move your hair out of your face. “um, what was yours?” “i dyed my hair orange once. ginger definitely isn’t my look,” he jokes. it seems like he’s just trying to compete with tom now. you muster up a small chuckle for him anyway.

“tom, you haven’t gone yet,” harry points out, picking up his glass. tom considers the fact for a second. “true, but it’s not much fun if i don’t get to drink. can i get another since i’m behaving?” he juts his bottom lip out at his brother. harrison lets out a long sigh. “mate, i really don’t feel like getting up again. take a break.”

you slide your beer over to tom without a second thought. “you can share mine.” he looks at you like you said something wild. “are you sure we should do that?” he’s clearly referring to luke and how he might take it. at this point, it doesn’t matter to you. luke has been acting off since you started playing, and you’re not going to let him ruin your time with your friends.

you shrug your shoulders and tap the glass. “i’m the one who suggested it. drink up.” he hesitates, but takes it.

“ok, never have i ever gotten kicked out of somewhere.” harrison shakes his head and harry rests his chin in his hand, bummed he can’t drink. luke raises his hands up in surrender. that leaves you and tom. you know exactly what he’s thinking about right now. he takes a sip of your beer and hands it back to you, you finishing off the rest of it.

tom brought you to a super fancy restaurant for date night. it’s one of those places that has their own dress code and mood lighting. here you are, sat across from him in your most uncomfortable pair of heels and picking at course three of your meal; a bland salad. tom isn’t thrilled with it either, so you don’t feel too bad.

you rarely get the chance to go out for dinners like this because of tom’s ever-growing schedule, so you’re giving this place a try to make up for it.

“i wanna ask if they have dressing, but i’m scared i’ll get yelled at,” you murmur to tom, stabbing a piece of lettuce with your fork. he bites his cheek. your look of disgust makes a giggle slip out of him. “try holding your breath so you don’t taste it,” tom suggests, fiddling with a button on his jacket to stall from eating.

you take a big gulp of water in hopes of cleansing your tastebuds. tom looks at you from over his cup, doing the same. it’s so hard to take this seriously. “i know you wanted to take me somewhere nice, baby, but this kinda sucks.” you whisper the last part. “you’re right. i’ve heard great things about their dessert, though.”

“we’d find out if they didn’t take five years to serve us every course,” you laugh a little too loud at your own joke. an older woman with diamonds around her neck shoots you a glare. tom finally cracks, joining in your laughter over the situation. your waiter comes back at that moment, and he’s less than pleased by the behavior from both of you.

“is everything okay over here?” he asks sharply. “we’re, uh, we’re fine. thank you,” tom hides his laugh with a cough and makes an overly serious face. your waiter places a check on the table. “we didn’t ask for this yet,” you tell him politely. “i’ve heard several complaints about you two throughout your meal, so i’m going to have to ask you to leave.” he explains, handing you a pen to sign the check.

tom’s fake serious face is now a real serious face.

“you can’t-“ “let us pay for what we had, and we’ll be on our way.” you take tom’s arm from across the table. he would’ve pulled the ‘do you know who i am?’ card without you stopping him. your waiter walks away and goes to serve someone else.

“i can’t believe they’re kicking us out. this is so unfair,” tom complains, but gets out his wallet. he grabs the pen from you to take care of everything. “to be fair, we were being pretty annoying. we didn’t even like our food,” you try to reason.

tom does his signature and leaves money on the table. he’s going to be sulking about this the rest of the night. you stand up with your arm still linked in his and walk him over to the exit. he squeezes you closer to him on your way to the car.

“that was disappointing,” tom speaks again once you’re in the car. he rests a hand on your thigh. you put yours on top of his. “and funny. the only thing is, i’m still hungry.” “yeah? how about we go for burgers?”

you’re in the mcdonald’s parking lot eating your second dinner not too much later. it’s a lot better than your first. your heels are kicked off, your feet on the dashboard while you and tom eat and listen to your favorite songs.

tom steals one of your fries and shoves it in his mouth, sticking his tongue out at you after. that earns him a flick from you. “you have your own fries, weirdo!” “yours taste better somehow. here, i’ll trade you.” he lifts the bun off his burger so you can have his pickles. he knows you so well.

“can i tell you something?” tom asks all of a sudden. you stop eating and turn down the radio with a nod. “i know this isn’t as cool as fine dining, but i’m happy we get to have these moments together. wish they could last a little longer,” tom admits to you while staring out the window. you bring his hand up to your lips and kiss it.

“i’ve had so much fun tonight, and every night i spend with you. i don’t care about some gross rich people food. the only thing that matters is is being together, okay?” tom grins at your words, then leans forward and presses his lips to yours. it’s a short but sweet kiss. it’s a kiss that says the words he doesn’t have. “love you, y/n. thank you.” “i love you.”

you and tom are doubled over, giggling like kids with your heads bent together. you’re both pretty buzzed from your drink. you try to get yourself together, but he makes eye contact with you and you bust into another fit of laughter. even harry and harrison join in. it’s nice to finally have all of you getting along.

“i think it’s time to head out,” luke announces, moving to get up from the booth. you turn to him and wipe under your eyes. “oh, ok. i’ll text you later?” “you’re not coming?” he sounds more bitter than surprised. “i’m gonna get a ride back with tom when he’s ready to drive. it’s too early for me.”

luke fully sits himself back down and places his almost full glass in front of tom. all the boys are looking at you, but you have no idea what‘s happening. “why’d you do that?” you ask just to him. “i’ve changed my mind. i’m staying for another round of the game.”

you have a bad feeling about whatever he’s going to say. he’s been salty about you and tom all night, as if he didn’t know you’re still friends. it’s not like him at all. not the him you thought you knew, anyway.

“never have i ever,” luke intentionally directs the question at tom, “broken up with the most amazing girl so i could make shitty movies and fuck models. i wonder who’s done that.”

everyone stays silent. you could swear you’ve just been knocked sober. tom gets up from the table without a word, not bothering to wait for harry and harrison to move. he ignores them telling him not to go and steps over them. he’s out the nearest exit of the pub before anyone can stop him. you want to go after him, but you’re stuck in the middle of the booth.

your ‘boyfriend’ put his jealousy before your feelings for the last time tonight.

“what the fuck, luke?”

“are you sure you have everything? you remembered all your stuff from security?” you hold tom’s hand impossibly tighter as you get close to his gate.

he leaves today to film cherry in the states. you’re dropping him off at the airport like you always do, but something feels different about this time. it seems like a more permanent goodbye.

“mhm, it’s all here.” tom squeezes your hand back. you stop walking when you reach the sign that has his gate number on it. this is it. the last time you’ll see him for who knows how long? he stands his suitcase up off to the side and moves so he’s in front of you.

his arms are around your neck now, hugging you so close. you wind your arms around him so there’s no space between you two. he rests his chin on your shoulder, letting out a breath. “gonna miss you so much, baby. fuck, i hate this.” “it’s okay, tom. we’ve done it before. we’ll be okay.” you’re trying to convince yourself and him.

he pulls back from you and holds you by your waist. you stay flush against his chest, grabbing on to his hoodie. you don’t trust yourself to look at him right now.

“y/n, i can’t keep doing this to you,” tom says into your ear, his voice oddly steady for such a big thing to say. “doing what? you mean your job?” your fingers play with his hoodie strings. “i’ll be fine. i always am.” “that’s the thing. i don’t want you to just be fine all the time.” he can’t be saying what you think he is. you shake your head against him.

“you should be happy. it’s not fair that i make you settle for less.” “tom, stop.” you move off of him completely, your throat getting tight. “we’ve already talked about this. you do make me happy, even if it’s from another country sometimes. i don’t care.” he takes your hand again.

“this is something i’ve been thinking about for a while, honestly. it’ll be good for both of us.” “i- what are you trying to say?” tears are already clouding your vision. tom lets go of you. “we need to break up, y/n.”

you can feel your entire heart shatter into millions of tiny little pieces. this isn’t happening. not now. not ever. he’s not leaving you so easy.

you’re crying in the middle of the airport for everyone to see, and tom isn’t too far behind you. “i thought you loved me,” you manage to get out. tom chokes back his tears and wipes yours instead, his thumbs running over your cheeks. “i do, angel. i love you so much that it’s hurting me to say goodbye.” “then why can’t we make it work? please,” you lean into his touch for probably the last time.

“because you deserve more. i’m away all the time, and there are things i can’t give you. you deserve someone who’s here for everything.” tom’s fingers trail down to grab your chin gently, you looking up at him with bloodshot eyes.

“i want more for you, y/n.” “i have you. that’s all i want, tom.” neither of you say anything for a good minute. tom almost gives in, you can see it. you whimper when he grabs the handle of his suitcase instead.

“this is because i love you. i... i need you to understand that.” his voice is soft. you wish he could’ve done this way earlier since he was planning on it. “it’s all happening so fast.” tears are dripping down your cheeks and chin. you want to reach for tom, but there’s no point. his mind is made up. an announcement plays through the airport that tom’s flight is boarding.

“i really don’t wanna leave you like this, but i have to go. i’ll call you after i land, okay?” who are you to stop him now? “o- okay. be safe.” tom presses a kiss to your forehead, letting it linger for a few seconds. he puts his hood up and turns around. you watch him walk to his gate. this is the first time he’s left you without looking back.

you start making your way to the parking lot as soon as he’s gone. it takes everything in you not to scream and sob the whole way back. none of this feels right. if you both still love each other, you should be together.

after the longest walk of your life, you get back to your car. you break down all over again.

“i’m trying to help you, y/n. it seems like you forgot what he put you through,” luke scoffs and crosses his arms over his chest. you can’t believe how he’s acting. “let’s talk about this somewhere else. sorry, guys,” you smile awkwardly at harrison and harry. harry waves you off. “it’s okay. we understand.”

luke gets out of the booth, you following behind and leading him over to an empty corner in the pub. your smile fades. “that was fucked up, luke. we didn’t end things for his career. you know that.” “not officially, but it definitely helped.” does he not realize how crappy that sounds? like you were holding him back?

“you’re wrong. i told you exactly what happened. everything you’re saying is some weird story you made up in your head.” “then he should’ve said that for himself.” you throw your hands up in the air. “you made him fucking uncomfortable! i would’ve left, too.” luke laughs bitterly. “he’s really good at that, you know. leaving.”

“he did it because he loves me. fuck you for joking about it, like it wasn’t something that took me a really long time to get over. it’s sad that my past makes you jealous.” there’s a beat of silence before luke says anything. “do you still love him, y/n?” you both already know the answer. “well?” “yeah. yeah, i do.” you push past him and go out the door tom left from. luke doesn’t bother following.

you’re ready to start searching for tom, but he ends up being right outside. he’s leaning against the side of the building. his head snaps up when the door opens. “didn’t mean to scare you.” you walk over to him. he sniffles and shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “‘s alright. rather you than someone else.” “tom, i’m-“ “don’t apologize.”

“i have to. the things luke said to you were really gross, and i hate that i didn’t stop him.” you take a step closer to him. “you couldn’t have predicted anything he said.” tom gives you a tight lipped smile. “he’s... not the kind of person i thought he was.” “he’s a bit of a dick, to be honest.” you giggle a little at that. you’re just relieved tom isn’t taking this too hard.

“so, he didn’t pass the friends test. i guess that’s okay since things are kind of over between us.” tom finally meets your eyes, furrowing an eyebrow. “why? what happened?” “i cursed him out. said some pretty mean stuff.” he holds out an arm for you. you let him put it around you, instantly settling into his warmth. you’ve needed this.

“you can do better. he seemed too boring for you, anyway.” you shrug your shoulders with a small smile. “i wanted to talk to you about that. i’m not really sure how to say this, so i’ll just... say it.” tom’s heart is beating so fast you can feel it next to you. “yeah?”

you turn to face him, his arm still around you. “i haven’t stopped loving you. this is bad timing because you’re about to go film uncharted, and it’s out of no where, but i thought i should tell you. it might not mean anything now-“ “come with me.” you’re both shocked by each other’s words. you laugh in disbelief, tom nodding to urge you to say yes.

“for real? you want me to go?” “i wanna work on us, and i’m not making you wait any longer. i was stupid for ever giving up. we can figure everything out, and it would only be for the summer-“ now it’s your turn to cut him off, your lips crashing into his. his eyes flutter closed as he kisses you back. he grabs your arms and both of you pull back to catch your breath.

tom kisses you again, this time softer. you smile against his lips. “god, i’ve missed doing that. i really, really love you, y/n.” “i really love you, tom.”

and just like that, he put the pieces of your heart back together.

#tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland fluff #tom holland fic #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland blurb #tom holland angst #peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker imagine #marvel #mcu #spiderman #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction

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colorseeingchick · 3 years

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Crushing On You (Kirishima, Tamaki, Toyomitsu (Fat Gum))

Ion know bout y’all, but I consistently act weird around my crushes. That being said, I also can NEVER tell when someone has a crush on me (although I’m told its obvious). So let’s commemorate that, shall we?

A/N: This one is dedicated to the lovely @kirislut. She passively told me to write this and I was like yeah! And then proceeded to take 2 months to do it *sigh*. But yeah stan her or face my wrath >.<

Warnings: None! It’s fluffy. Y/N is written to match the age of the character (so a first year for Kiri, third year for Amajiki, late 20s for Fat).

Kirishima Eijirou (xBruh!Y/N)

Kiri would be crushing on you for a long time before he even realizes he’s crushing on you.

You would be a part of the Bakusquad, and you also made an effort to stand up for yourself against Bakugou, and something about that really got to Kiri.

You were somehow so *manly* while also so hot AND cute? Damn, how do you do it?

Not that he understood that he saw you in such a light.

Because Kiri doesn’t realize he has a crush on you, he wouldn’t necessarily be super blushy or flustered at first.

When around you, he’s showering you in compliments.

When you aren’t around, he’s constantly bringing you up in conversation. Every conversation. With every single person.

He would also team up with you to tease Bakugou.

And you already know that if anyone had anything negative to say about you, then he would stand up for you in a heartbeat.

He really admired you, to say the least. He loved being around you. That was all (he thought).

That is, until the bros™ decided to give him a talk.

“So..Y/N?” Is all Sero would say.

And obviously Kiri smiled at your name, but didn’t know why they were bringing you up.

“Are you gonna ask them out anytime soon? If you wait any longer I might just do it myself,” Kaminari tries to playfully nudge Kirishima into understanding.

“Ask them out???” Kiri is now in shock! Because where did this come from!

That being said, his face also got as red as his hair, and the thought of you hugging him or staring back at him felt like a really pleasant idea all of a sudden.

“Oi, shitty hair, don’t tell me you don’t recognize your own feelings. Are you really that much of an idiot?” Bakugou asks, his tone irritated and disinterested.

Although, he’s kinda invested in seeing you two get together at this point. The whole squad was.

And then it hit the man like a truck.

Shit! I have a crush on the coolest, strongest, most amazing person I know.

After this point, he doesn’t know if he’s ready to ask you out yet. But he definitely starts acting differently.

Usual shoulder leans and elbow nudges now make him feel like Kaminari was electrocuting him..

Any compliments you sent his way would cause Kiri.exe to stop working.

And your smile would make him feel starstruck.

It was a breaking point when a school sponsored dance came around and you showed up looking like a WHOLE SNACK in the most elegant dress/tux/(whatever badass clothes you wanna be rockin). .

Kiri straight up would not look at you. He fully refused to turn his head in your direction, which was hard because the Bakusquad decided to spend the whole time there together, which meant he wasn’t leaving your side.

“What the hell are you doing?” Bakugou was so confused (I mean same. Kiri THEY LOOK LIKE A SNACK why aren’t you basking in their glory jeez).

“SHHH Bakugou. It’s not manly to stare…”

Kiri was worried that he would ogle you into discomfort, jaw dropped and eyes wide because his heart would burst upon looking at you for too long.

In turning his head, he didn’t notice Kaminari and Sero approach you, whispering into your ear.

It was only when you came up and tapped him on his shoulder that he turned around and looked at you, you smiling at him.

“Hey Kiri, do you wanna dance with me?”

Hey would pause, because he was really flustered, but then he would flash his huge toothy grin and gladly take your hand, pulling you onto the dancefloor to dance with him into the night.

BONUS: While dancing with you, Kiri would only look at your face and refused to look at your feet, causing him to stumble a couple of times.

And naturally, you would ask him about it.

He would blush but explain, “I didn’t want you to think that I was staring down at your body and making you uncomfortable…”

WANDERING EYES ARE NOT MANLY! change Kiri’s mind.

You would laugh and respond, “Hey, if you need to look at our feet to make sure we don’t trip, I don’t mind.”

But you would then pull close to him, wrapping one hand around his neck and speak quietly into his ear-

“And if you wanna look at the rest of me while you're at it, I wouldn’t mind that either.”

Kiri.exe has stopped working once again. Good job Y/N!

Amajiki Tamaki (xGentle!Y/N)

Tamaki would have a crush on you after being your friend for a little while.

Like at first he was super nervous around you because people are nerve inducing and scary (I feel ya buddy its ok).

Over time though, you guys became closer friends. He realized how gentle and sweet you were.

You would spend a lot of time together, studying, going to get food, and training together.

You also would spend late nights together, especially when one of you was stressed or having a panic attack. You kept each other safe.

It wasn’t a surprise to Tamaki when he found himself wanting to spend more time with you.

It didn’t shock him that he loved looking into your eyes.

He felt himself, and watched himself, fall in love with you.

But despite that, he wasn’t really as awkward about it as you would expect him to be.

Your entire relationship had been very wholesome and close from the start, and because he was aware of his feelings from the get go, there wasn’t any real shock.

Ultimately, you were his safe space, and he would rather not compromise that by bringing his emotions into it. He was content to love you from a bit of a distance.

In a non creepy way, he loved to watch you. He knows looking at people you love or feel safe with is a really good way to calm anxiety and ground yourself, and that’s what Tamaki does all the time with you.

Just watch you work or eat and laugh. It was enough to keep him together.

And the times you told him “I love you” made his heart soar, even if he knew it was platonic.

He also had a journal with writing in it, where he would write small notes or lines about his thoughts. Many were about you and how pretty you looked when you came to his room in PJs when you couldn’t sleep, or how happy you were when you down a bowl of ramen, or how-

You get the idea.

Though he was content with accepting his crush on you, nothing could have prepared him for how you found out.

You both had been working together in his room. He was working on some homework while you were studying for your *least* favorite subject, math.

So you ask if you can see his notes to help you understand better.

“Yeah. It’s the first one on my shelf. Its the most recent pages.”

What he forgot was that he had moved it into his backpack and the nondescript notebook that sat first on his shelf was his journal.

While he kept working, you opened to try and figure out how integrals worked, but instead were met with a cute doodle of your face with a heart next to it.

The line above it said, “On a cold day, y/n’s smile keeps me warm.”

It was oddly poetic, a lil sappy, insanely heart tingling but cOMPLETELY out of left field because- what? This was definitely NOT integrals.

“Tamaki, I don’t think this is the right book…”

He looks up and his face drops in horror as he sees you with his journal, your eyes dazed and unsure.

“O-oh! I’m s-s-so s-sorry I-”

He trips off his bed and runs right up to you, tugging the notebook out of your hand and pulling it to his chest. “This isn’t how I meant for you to f-f-find out I have a c-crush on you-u.” His eyes are glued to the floor.

“...Tamaki, you have a crush on me?” You ask, in a calm (but very shocked) tone.

His eyes shot up, wide, and he scrambled through the notebook to see what you read. It was just the doodle and one line, but if you had flipped a page back, you would have seen a long rambling explaining how much he liked you.

But, you didn’t flip a page back, and instead, Tamaki had 100% exposed himself.

“Y/N I’m s-so so sorry you probably think that I’m a creep now I swear that I really value our friendship and I don’t mean to ruin it so you can just forget about this and-”

He went on for a while, lost in his words and slowly falling apart while you were trying to process what you heard.

He had a crush on you too? What a relief. You wish you realized sooner! But better late than never right?

Now for how you were gonna calm him down.

On instinct, you wanted to jump on him and kiss him till he couldn’t breathe, but that would probably freak him out more than anything else.

So you just do what feels right.

“I really hope you don’t hate me or think I’m weird you just really make me feel complete and peaceful and I never meant to-”

You reach out and gently take hold of one of his hands, pulling it to your face, and softly kiss his knuckles.

He stops rambling and looks like a deer in headlights as his face ignites into a bright red.

“WHY DID YOU-”

“Shhh.. Tamaki… I like you too, okay? I like you a lot. So please calm down.”

What a roller coaster for this poor boy. “Y-you don’t think I’m obsessed with you?”

“I don’t! Well, if you’re obsessed with me, I’m just as obsessed with you, so its okay!”

You smile at him and he blushes, hiding his face into his shoulder, his hand still sweetly entangled with yours.

“I, I’m glad,” he manages to get the words out after a few seconds.

For the first time in the history of your relationship, Tamaki was a flustered blushy mess with you.

“Cmon Tamaki, we have more studying to do!!” You want him to mentally gather himself, so you take him back to his bed, hands still intertwined.

BONUS: After failing at studying, Tamaki laid down on his bed and stared at the wall, failing to nap, while you were sitting at the foot of the bed.

His mind was racing.

“We like each other, but we haven’t talked about it since that moment… What if things are going to be awkward? I don’t want it to be what should I-”

The bed dipped down behind him and an arm snaked up around his torso. His back was pulled against your chest.

“Is it okay if I take a nap with you, sweetheart?” You ask in a lazy and sleepy voice.

His heart fluttered at the nickname. “Yeah, of course.”

“I’m glad. I love you, Tamaki.” And with that, you nuzzle into his back and fall asleep.

And with the feeling of your arms and your stable breathing, he realized you were still his safe space. And with that he was lulled to sleep.

Toyomitsu Taishiro (x Foodie!Y/N)

You’re assigned to represent your agency for the team-up with Fat Gum’s agency.

When you rolled in, Fat Gum didn’t take much note of you at first.

But when you intensely fawn over takoyaki during lunch break on the first day, he felt like his eyes were being reopened and he was seeing you for the first time.

Love at first meal!

Though he initially found you attractive because he shares his love of food with you, he slowly found himself loving everything about you.

You’re a lighthearted person, with a big heart and an even bigger appetite.

You brought a lot of joy, and that was energy Taishiro could never get enough of.

He knew he was a goner when one day were pranked by one of his Agency members, got caught off guard, and ended up jumping at him.

He caught you and held you (cuz hero instincts obviously), and in that moment you couldn’t help but hug him out of fear (and because he’s SO CUDDLY REEEEEE).

But that’s enough for him to realize he wants to hold you more. And often.

Yeah he’s whipped okay.

He definitely tries to keep it professional! And not *overtly* flirt with you.

But he brings you food literally 2 or 3 times a day.

That may sound like a lot, but given its Fat Gum, it came off pretty innocuous at first.

He’s also really observant, so he picks up on what type of foods you really like.

So he very often pulls up with your favorites, which always makes your day better.

He also tries to give you some of his favorite foods, and days you like his favorites were the best.

He was living his best life watching you be happy, even in a professional setting.

Fat Gum finally came forward about his feelings for you after a mission went awry.

It was supposed to be an information retrieval mission- simple get in get out.

You, Fat, and Sun Eater were going to be working together.

Fat would guard, Sun Eater would infiltrate and restrain, while you would obtain necessary documents.

That plan is sabotaged the moment you realized the League is also present- when they definitely were not supposed to be.

Before you can process this shocking information, a knife is being plunged into your stomach.

Toga smiles down at you- “pretty blood from a pretty person, I’m sorry I can’t help myself.”

She jumps back when Sun Eater sends an octopus arm at her.

He grabs you in the process and pulls you back, where Fat is now standing by his side, eyes wide in horror.

He takes you into his arms, and the last thing you feel is being held against his fluffiness before blacking out.

When you wake up, you’re in a hospital bed, Recovery Girl on one side of you, and Taishiro on the other, in his skinny form.

Evidently, he had beaten most of the villains to a pulp, but the League had dipped before he could do much more damage.

But after that, he had carried you to the ambulance and hasn’t left your side since. It’s been half a day.

“Fat Gum…”

“Hey do me a favor and call me Taishiro, okay?” He asks you very gently.

“Tai-shiro…” Oof his heart skipped a beat at hearing you say his name.

“Taishiro, the mission…”

“Shhh it’s okay. There’s an interrogation of the villains that we captured going on right now, and Fourth Kind’s agency is following up on our leads. We did our job for now.”

“Are you okay? Amajiki-kun, is he okay?”

“We’re both fine. Some scratches on him, a lil fat lost for me, but we’re okay.”

“Taishiro...The agency, why are you here? You should be there running the ag-”

“I want to be here with you. That’s why I am here. I trust my assistants to cover for me right now.”

“That’s very nice of you, but I still don’t understand why…”

“Because I like you. I like you lots, Mx. L/N. I know our relationship has been professional, but seeing you injured was something I didn’t…. I care a lot and I couldn’t find it in myself to leave you here alone. I hope our relationship can stay professional and friendly though, I really enjoy spending time with you.”

Recovery Girl looks back and forth between you two, eyeing your shocked face and his determined, serious one.

“I’ll be back to check on you in an hour, Y/N. But I’ll leave you two alone for now ~~~”

You paused, silent. The longer you stayed silent the faster his heart began to race.

Suddenly, you sit up, placing weight on the heels of your palms.

“Y/N you’re still injured what are you-”

It's your turn to cut him off, grabbing his jacket and yanking him towards you with your left hand.

Your right hand going to wrap around the back of his neck,

and your body falls back,

Caught off guard, half standing, and balance lost, Fat’s upper body is now looming above yours, his hands planted on either side of you.

His eyes are wide, and your hands on the back of his neck are warm.

“I’m sorry, Taishiro… but I don’t want this relationship to stay just professional. So can I kiss you?”

His heart flutters, and his classic grin spreads across his face as he closes his eyes and let’s his face close the distance between you two.

BONUS: You and Fat Gum decided that you didn’t want to tell people that you had started dating- the news would take it and make it a public affair.

But you decided to leave it up in the air for your agency to figure out. They were your friends after all.

The first to catch on was Amajiki, but he stayed quiet.

But the new recruit Kirishima wasn’t as quiet about his suspicions.

When he walked in to see you hug Fat Gum, he didn’t know how to react.

You both seemed fine and acted as if hugging was a perfectly normal thing he shouldn’t be surprised by.

You say goodbye and pat Kiri’s head on the way out.

The last thing you heard was a loud scream, followed by a “Fat, you and Y/N are dating?”

Yeah! Cat’s out of the bag.

259 notes · View notes

beauenfer · 3 years

Text

𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐟𝐚𝐧‘𝐬 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬;

· * · ✦ fandom: The Vampire Diaries

· * · ✧ pairing: Stefan Salvatore x sibling!Reader

· * · ✦ warning: Language, sadness, vampirism and grr, Spoiler at the end if you haven’t finished the series, so totes don’t read the last line

.｡.:*★.｡.:*★.｡.:*★.｡.:*★.｡.:*★.｡.:*★.｡.:*★.｡.:*★

✦. just like you and Damon, you and Stefan would be alike if you were twins

✦. Stefan was kind, compassionate, understanding, and you were somewhat the same (you were a little bitchier)

✦. you and him shared that brooding in silence expression, and had the same hazel colored eyes

✦. you struggled at the sight of human blood but that doesn’t mean you didn’t drink it. Stefan was always the dramatic one

✦. you and him always watched over Damon and made sure he wasn’t going to do anything stupid

✦. you weren’t reckless, but you weren’t scared to take action either

✦. you read books in your free time and mostly stayed in your room, and you didn’t really like Elena

✦. you were a bit more harsh when it came to the girl, and you weren’t so quick to risk your life just to save her

✦. you were an eye-roller, and a blunt person. I kinda picture Stefan’s twin to be a meanie for some reason

✦. “Stefan, I love you. Damon, I love you. but I could care less if a vampire is after Elena. it’s just another day to me.”

✦. you and Stefan had deep conversations about life and other philosophies

✦. you always teased him about girls that liked him because you knew he didn’t want anything to do with them

✦. you helped him with his control around human blood, but you weren’t scared to lock him in the brig if he got too excited

✦. you were like his Lexi (big rip)

✦. you also had a little book club, where you two were the only members. Damon would laugh whenever a discussion on chapter 3 would turn into a fight between you two

✦. you both liked to stay out of the drama but always got dragged into it anyways, being forced to be the hero

✦. you started commenting on Stefan’s hero hair whenever Damon said something about it

✦. Stefan was the type of brother who would put a blanket over you if he found you sleeping in the living room with a book in your lap, a glass of bourbon on the table next to you

✦. you and him would go on jogs together in the woods, and end up making it a race to see who could get home first

✦. Damon would be alarmed when you guys were having fun, saying he was the only one that could

✦. “wait, are you two having fun? somebody must’ve spiked your squirrel.” 😎😏

✦. “oh my god, Damon. you’re so funny.” 😐🙄

✦. you would hand Stefan tools whenever he fixed cars, and maybe even learn a thing or two

✦. you guys reminded each other to drink vervain daily so you could get immune

✦. Stefan and Damon were your favorite people

✦. you read Stefan’s journals behind his back, and would treat him extra nice the next day from what you read

✦. whenever he had no humanity he was a handful. he picked on you the most because you were the one most likely to bring him back

✦. you always tried to make Stefan accustomed to human blood so he wouldn’t freak out

✦. and Stefan would try to get you on the animal diet, but you would spit facts and would be like, oh no. Animal blood makes you weak and all that other stuff

✦. Stefan didn’t like not having you around because he was bored easily, and didn’t see the point in going out if you weren’t

✦. you guys were the type to belt out song lyrics in the car, mostly listening to classic rock

✦. you knew him and Caroline were going to get together before he did, and would try to put them in situations together a lot to make it go faster

✦. “Stefan, how about you take Caroline to the dance? You know, have fun for once.”

✦. “Hey, Caroline, just go with Stefan. I’ll go with Damon.”

✦. you would sneak into his room and steal his vinyls, then say you didn’t when he would ask you

✦. despite what the group thought, you and Stefan were actually a lot of fun to be around

✦. you guys shot darts at the Grill, and got competitive very quick about it

✦. you guys had drinking competitions, again betting who would win

✦. you guys also liked to spend the whole night trying to get drunk, then you’d push Stefan in front of a truck LOL

✦. Stefan gave you a necklace in the 1960s that you never took off

✦. Stefan wrote about you in his journals, saying he had deep regret for turning you into a vampire and everything he ever did to you when he was the ripper

✦. you’d always find Stefan on his banister when he was in a mood, or something bad happened that day

✦. you’d give him a glass of bourbon and ask him what was wrong. this would lead to him confessing how sorry he was and everything he regrets

✦. “i gave you this life. you and Damon. I’ll never stop apologizing for that.”

✦. “it’s not that bad, Stefan. At least we’re all together.”

✦. Damon came to you with his problems because he felt like Stefan judged him too much, which kinda was the case

✦. you were like Stefan in a way when you just liked to lock yourself in the room and drink your sorrows away instead of confronting them

✦. you both tried to work on that with each other

✦. people would ask you who’s the evil twin, to which you’d both say Damon

✦. Damon, despite it being very clear who was who, would mark your hands in marker so he knew who he was talking to

✦. “Damon. You’ve been doing this since we were kids.”

✦. “I know.”

✦. “even then, we’re not identical. it’s very clear who you’re talking to.”

✦. “I know.”

✦. “Jesus Christ.”

✦. you guys have always had a special bond since birth that you can’t explain

✦. you’re besties for life 🥺

✦. you guys also had a little handshake Damon always tried to copy

✦. you and Stefan rarely fight because your minds are so in tuned

✦. you guys think similarly

✦. despite what you tell Stefan, a very very small part of you can’t get over what he’s done to you when he was a ripper, or back in 1864 when you were turned because he forced you

✦. you tried to write in journals like Stefan did, but you barely ever write in it

✦. Stefan was always wary of the people you liked or dated, and it took him a long time to come out of his shell

✦. you guys watch I Love Lucy together all the time, his favorite show

✦. and on his birthday, you gifted him the whole series and an autographed poster from Lucille Ball herself

✦. you guys didn’t like going to the parties Damon threw in the house, but you went anyway because Caroline convinced you

✦. but let’s be real, y’all tore those parties up because you secretly loved them

✦. you’d be doing handstands at the keg and Stefan would be fuckin’ up the dance floor with his tubular moves

✦. on Halloween parties, Stefan and you would dress up as the cast from The Great Gatsby, another one of his favorites

✦. speaking of dancing, you and Stefan could dance

✦. you and him always had a cup of coffee in the morning and discussed random things before Damon would get up and wreak havoc

✦. you and him, since we’re on the subject, would watch fancy coffee videos and try to figure out how to make it

✦. whenever you were kids, your father would always make sure you were poised and didn’t embarrass him

✦. he held you and Stefan to a high standard

✦. you and Stefan would stay in each other’s rooms and goof off until morning back when you were children

✦. you always bought Stefan books he loved or wanted, or just gave him the original

✦. back in the 50’s, y’all were greasers let’s be real

✦. you were there when Stefan got his rose tattoo done

✦. you guys liked to sit in front of the fireplace after a hard day with glasses of bourbon

✦. “just another day in our lives, huh?”

✦. “just another day...”

✦. Stefan worried about you too much sometimes and would call you nonstop if he got bad news

✦. you were always asking him about his and Caroline’s relationship

✦. and at their wedding you were the best man (no matter the gender)

✦. but anyways, this boy dead and I miss him

#stefan salvatore x reader #Stefan Salvatore #stefan salvatore fanfiction #stefan salvatore headcanon #Stefan Salvatore imagine #tvd #the vampire diaries imagine

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comradekatara · 3 years

Note

in certain games you unlock deeper levels of friendship through tokens of affection - what sentimental/practical items would those be for each character? i believe aang would be partial to wind chimes & of course sokka is fond of puzzles

okay chell had to explain what this means to me, to which i asked “do game devs know anything about human interaction whatsoever?” (apparently not!) but since you mentioned wind chimes and puzzles i’m just gonna assume you’re asking what items represent these characters, rather than “how would you bribe them into friendship” (because that would be......weird)

aang: a wind chime is so apt tbh. like aang is an aeolian harp, the way he is both the avatar and the last airbender, an instrument to be played upon by destiny, by nature, by the wind. i have a million thoughts about this but instead i’m just gonna link to this coleridge poem and my art associating aang with the joanna newsom album “divers” instead of actually expounding on this idea (for now). hopefully y’all just Get what i mean?? lmao

sokka: puzzles works bc he’s fundamentally obsessed with solving problems, especially if said problem can be solved in a creative way. maybe also an encyclopedia, because he’s concerned with the endless pursuit and acquisition of new knowledge. though i guess he’s often associated with a boomerang or a sword, which are sort of like, The Thinking Man’s Weapons™ but it makes me sad to think about how sokka’s life and identity are so intrinsically tied to war, so let’s eschew that for the purposes of this exercise

katara: i mean her mother’s necklace is such an integral symbol of her identity and her legacy, but i guess if we’re going with non-specific items, i guess i would have to go with, like, a freshly baked loaf of bread? or really just any warm food that is sustaining and nourishing. personally i think giving someone bread and eating freshly baked bread is an act and experience of love. it reminds me of the warmth and care and giving, that combination of practicality and sentimentality in how katara loves her family. and while i also really appreciate the depths of her rage, i think if anything, katara is defined by her capacity for love and warmth, baked bread sustaining you through the harshest winters.

toph: okay this is gonna sound obvious, or perhaps facetious, but i do just really think toph’s perfect item is. a rock. like sokka literally gives her a rock (a meteorite, to be specific) and this gift immediately becomes her most cherished possession. and yes you can argue that it’s because it was a special rock, or because sokka gave it to her and it’s the thoughtfulness behind the gesture that made it so special, but at the end of the day toph loves being given rocks for a reason! toph is stable (fighting with katara aside, bc sisters just be like that) and enduring and contains this quiet wisdom that makes the earth not just a weapon she can use, but a relationship she fosters, in understanding. toph loves rocks and she is a rock and that’s that

suki: it is the year 2020 and everyone listens to music directly from their smartphones, so i am just going to broadly generalize here and say suki could use a music playing device (whether it be an ipod, a walkman, or a gramophone). like i just think suki could really use a soundtrack. yknow?

zuko: i think above all, what zuko needs is a cat. i think if iroh had gotten zuko a kitten when he was 13 he could’ve avoided the next three years of “need[ing] to capture the avatar to restore [his] honor” because zuko would’ve been way too preoccupied with taking care of his new pet, and healing from his trauma and growing as a person in the process. as we see in the “life-changing field trip” episodes, zuko learns from iroh to help himself through helping others, and he would be able to recognize his own humanity and vulnerability through caring for a cat. he is a cat and he needs a cat!

azula: a candle. because you set it on fire on purpose. nuff said.

mai: i’m not gonna say knives because that’s both obvious and fallacious. mai’s proclivity for knives may seem sick and dope (because she is), but it is not, in fact, the world’s healthiest coping mechanism, and i think she could benefit from branching out, maybe finding some less violent hobbies. actually i desperately wish i could give mai my over the garden wall dvd because i think her depressed ass could really benefit from witnessing wirt’s Journey. or really any art that could help her cope and explore her own feelings of emptiness (i also think she would love dostoevsky), but personally otgw is my pinnacle of “coping with depression media” and i think it would be mai’s too. dont @ me

ty lee: a camera, to capture all the moments in which she is a unique observer, while standing behind the lens, inherently out of frame. people are too intent on the contents of the picture to speculate on the nature of who took them. being as flexible as she is, she always gets the best angles. she makes every scene look natural.

yue: an empty journal, ripe for filling. she needs an outlet to document her inner thoughts. her life (both lives) are about what she can give and do for other people, about sacrificing herself for her duty to the world, and so i think it is in fact necessary that yue write, in a space just for herself where she does need to monitor her behavior or her feelings or feel guilty for being her own person with wants and desires. i’ve always thought that as the moon but also as a human, her singularly unique experiences would make for incredible poetry, if only she had somewhere to write it.

#the gaang and #aang aeolian harp zuko tom o bedlam yue bright star aaaaa go crazy #anyway....#asks #missastraea

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kyoupann · 3 years

Note

Please do more of the writing head canons. It’s really interesting to see other people’s ideas on the topic, so if you can be bothered, I would highly appreciate more, thanks bye <3

Y’all don’t know how happy I am to talk about these headcanons, they are my babies and I love them so much :’) thanks for asking g <3

Handwriting Headcanons

Same dynamic as before, try to guess whose handwriting it is before reading and tell me how many you got right! <3

You can find the first post here (no need to check it tho)

Quick disclaimer: halfway through making my initial notes, I remembered I had one (1) single lesson of graphology in my applied linguistics class, but that was a year ago and some information might be off. I just thought it was neat to include.

Another quick disclaimer: I don’t know much about Hylian, but I like to think it has a similar stroke system to Japanese, so the pressure and accuracy of your strokes play a major role in your handwriting (among other things, ofc.) so there are some parts where I focus more on that

(First Row, from left to right)

Sky

Our first boy is mother hen! Believe it or not, he has the prettiest handwriting out of all of them! Sky: probably has nice, even elegant handwriting because Sun forced him to practice when they were little. In the end, that paid off because his handwriting is the prettiest one. There’s no pressure, but he is confident in what he writes that his lines aren’t thin. Mistakes? what is that? this boy has impeccable grammar and spelling. No mechanic errors to be found in his letters! I’d like to think that many of Hyrule’s classic/staple poems were originally written by the firt king aka sky child. Like, imagine, after a retiring from being a Person of Power (as the first ruler), Sky finds comfort in the arts: revisits his old woodcarvings and starts writing poetry about the world he still doesn’t fully understand. wowie. tldr: sky writes poetry and you can pry it from my cold dead hands.

This is what one of his letters would look like:

Next one is the one and only, our Hero of Time

2. Time

I’ll die on the “Time didn’t know how to read and write” hill. His handwriting is simple, not pretty but not messy. It has some grammar and spelling mistakes here and there. Can become unreadable if writing in a hurry, he sorts of forgets spaces between words are a thing/letters have different sizes and lowercase letters end up the same size as capital letters. I’m not saying he sometimes forgets to write articles: he just doesn’t want to. Honestly, he just has this dad-neat handwriting. He is a gentle dad and writes like a dad, if he puts too much pressure onto the paper, his handwriting become too sharp/angle-ish and ends up looking ugly. And as much as he would like to not care about it, in the end he does (:

Malon taught him how to write and it was quite the experience. At first he didn’t want to because he was ‘too old’ to learn and it was torture at first, but now look at him devouring his cowboy novels.

A chunk of his handwriting:

*sniff* such a dad quote.

3. my mansss, your 4x1 deal at Target: Four

Look, my boy is patient! He could do some nice and fancy lettering if he wanted to. He was taught that handwriting and spelling said a whole lot about him as a person, you know, like a first impression kinda thing; so he always proof reads more than twice before sending a letter. Super rare grammar mistakes.

The faster he writes, the more slant his writing becomes. Under stress/ when not sure how to write things down, run-on sentences are everywhere and his handwriting is inconsistent in general (I don’t headcanon each part of him having completely different handwriting because handwriting becomes muscle memory over time. It’s just slightly different variations of the same, like idk Vio’s handwriting is neater than Green’s and Red writes hearts instead of any dot/circle and no, I do not take constructive criticism on that, jk i do.) Adding on to each of the colours’ handwriting, I’d think Red and Green write with words slanted to the right( inclined), Vio is a mix of the opposite, so reclined and straight, and my mans blue a true neutral writes straight (kinda like Time’s).

The logic behind this is that inclined writing supposedly means honesty and need for giving (and getting) affection; reclined means, as you can probably imagine, defensiveness and repression of true feelings, but also shows great concentration; straight handwriting means self-control, observation and reflection as well as distrust and indifference. But as complete being (tm), Four just writes as in the image example which is not too straight and not too inclined, and I believe that’s a good middle for him

HOWEVER, if I’m feeling in the mood for crack, I totally accept this boy to have the ugliest, chicken scratches-looking handwriting! :’D It’s just funny to think that someone like him, who has to be precise and careful in his work, can't write neatly to save his life.

One of his letters would look like this:

Also I just LOVE how his hero titles look in this font ksksks

and that’s

(Middle row, from left to right)

4.- Mister Bunny Boy - Legend

His uncle taught him how to write. I’d call his handwriting pretty and neat at a first glance, but he presses too hard on the paper, most of the time staining the back or the following page. Sometimes will retrace some words if he doesn’t like how it looks (which only makes it messier). According to my notes, a thick or strong handwriting represents determination/commitment.

As I also headcanon him to know many languages, mechanical errors are more present than grammar ones; that is, weird capitalisation of words. Punctuation is somewhere in between; uses too many commas when he should just cut the sentence. he mixes punctuation from two languages or more in writing when too distracted (or too focused, because, well, pressure.); when he writes for himself, he has almost no problem following said language’s punctuation rules. Also, this is just polyglot culture, and I’m projecting a bit, but when he forgets a word in the language he’s writing, he just replaces it with its equivalent in another language because we don’t care about fluency, but rather functionality. in this household (more on that in my language hc, ksksks).

An example of his writing:

so powerful

4.- Mr. Wolfman, howl me a song - Twilight

I don’t have much for him because 1) I don’t think he writes a lot and 2) he is a hands-on/visual learner, I’ll die by that. He only learnt how to write because Ulli insisted it was important and he was not about to disrespect his momma; he IS That Guy, but doesn’t really write enough to have neat handwriting.

Many people seem to overlook the fact that his house is filled with books and write him as completely illiterate (which if not explored properly, ends up feeling a bit disrespectful and full of prejudice, but go off I guess; and that’s on my core Headcanons for Twi); however, he sticks to simple sentences. Knowing how to read and understanding a text is different from knowing how to write them. Like, when we would see a semicolon and understand its position in the text, but didn’t understand the nature of it. Is this clear? idk i’m sorry. So yeah, boy reads a lot, writes very little.

As for his Actual Handwriting, as opposed to Legend, his handwriting is thiccc but not because he presses into the paper; he is just that messy, he has no sense of ink-flow-control, he does what he can with what he has. To the untrained eye, his handwriting illegible letters like v, n, u are very similar; when he makes notes for himself he does it in the form of doodles or small ‘icons’. But! He reads a lot, so he rarely makes spelling mistakes (: he is your go-to guy when you don’t know how to write a word.

An example of his writing:

He keeps a journal, sue me.

3. My first born- Warrior

Okay, first off... I accept this is completely biased. I saw the idea and said “That’s True”. If you haven’t, please read Effective Communication; or The Lack of Thereof by htruona, a fic where the boys reflect on the language barriers between them. It’s incredibly funny and probably what made me start making these silly notes. So, if you’ve read that fic, you know where I’m going.

My man, Warrior, can’t fucking write. I mean, he physically can, but it’s very bad. Here’s the reason for it, tho, and it’s not his fault: Technically, he knew how to write alright but he joined the military and whatever note he had to write had to be concise or in the worst case coded. He mixes capital and lowercase letters. If we consider that he joined the military at around 15, his handwriting and grammar had yet to continue developing. Just think about how after summer break, your handwriting was always slightly worse than before because you didn’t write for an entire month. Now think what 2 years can do to that. Hmm, not cool, dude. He makes quick notes, when writing he’s all gotta go fast. he is the lighting mcqueen of writing; good for emergency messages, not ideal for love letters. His punctuation also suffered a lot, he only know full stops and commas and hardly uses them. A sentence for him is either one word or fifty without a single comma, no inbetween.

His hero title and an example of his writing.

(Bottom row, or what I like to call “fuck cursive” row)

7.- Magic man - Hyrule

I’m basic and I do agree with the popular headcanon of he not knowing how to write because well, y’all know his Hyrule. He only knows how to write his name because that’s important, same with numbers. I don’t see why would he write/read except checking the roadsigns. (he can even use this as an excuse for getting lost frequently; he thought it said something different.) But I do think that because his habitual reading consists of roadsigns, his ‘punctuation’ is weird af and places full stops/points/periods at the same level of his words and his commas/question/exclamation marks below them. Yk, creative license. Sadly, I don’t have much about my magic hands man so here’s what his writing would look like if he actually wrote a paragraph:

Man, I love Hyrule.

8.- Man, I don’t understand this boy - Wild

Cursive? ain’t nobody have the time for that. He woke up and had to save the world in his underwear while not knowing how to read nor write. He learnt during his journey and was taught by multiple people from different regions, that explains his inconsistent spelling of things and names for them. So Wild knows language variations for many items and uses them interchangeably (even if they aren’t exactly the same). Another headcanon related to writing/language skills that I’ve been thinking about is that if the shrine was able to cause amnesia, I’m sure there were other areas in the brain affected which leads us to language disorders such as agraphia and aphasia. But that’s a story for another day ksksksk

An example of his writing (after relearning)

9.- The best of sons - Wind

I don’t have much for him and that makes me sad. Look, he’s a kid, doing kid things like stabbing dudes on the head. This boy was taught cursive by his grandma, but could never do it and no one needs it anyway. His handwriting is good enough for his pirate life, Tetra is the one to handle Official stuff, he just gotta sign. Spelling and grammar mistakes abound. He is still relatively young and can correct his handwriting if he desires. But same as Wild, with how many times he’s been thrown out and hit his head, I’m starting to consider some language disorder for him as well.

An example of his writing:

aaand that’s it.

Thanks, y’all for showing interest in this silly thing uwu it was fun to finally talk about this. If you ever want to discuss ideas/headcanons(especially if they are related to language and culture), I’m your person (: I’m always happy to hear new headcanons. Feel free to add anything to this post either in a reply or in a reblog, I’d love to hear from y’all <3<3

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avocadogirl216 · 3 years

Text

Another Winchester?

AN: Hello Everyone! So lately I’ve been wanting to write a winchester x sister!reader and I got this idea. Just know that this is my first ever story that I have shared with anyone else so please let me know of any mistakes or any of your thoughts. Thank you!

Summary: You are the little sister of The infamous Winchester brothers and this is how you meet them. This is set in season six after Sam gets his soul back.

Warnings: Mentions of drinking and drugs,language, mentions of sex, some violence, mention of abusive mother, suicide by overdose, some blood and I think that’s it.

!TRIGGER WARNING! If you are easily triggered by mentions of abuse, suicide or drugs please DO NOT read this.

Your name is (YN) Anderson. You’re 14 and a hunter. Your mother is Melinda Anderson who is a alcoholic and a drug addict. She was always either high or drunk and no matter what day or time it was. She was unemployed and brought home sketchy men almost every night. She had an awful temper and the tiniest things would set her off and when she got angry, you didn’t want to be with her. She would take it out on you and if she was too tired or drunk she would let her one night stands beat you until you were unconscious.

Let’s just say you weren’t a big fan of her. You’ve tried to run away multiple times but since your mom has many drug dealers and one night stands pretty much everywhere in town you would always get caught.

Your father was John Winchester the infamous hunter. You didn’t know much about him. All that you knew was that he was in the Marines and that his wife, Mary Winchester, died in 1983. From time to time you would daydream about him, wondering what your life would be like if you lived with him instead of your mom.

John worked a case in that town and after he finished the job he went to a bar got drunk and found your mom. Nine months later you were born.

You met your father when you were seven and there was a pack of werewolves in town that your father was hunting. He found out about you a couple years earlier and was surprised to find out that he had another child. Since he had been close to finding Yellow Eyes he didn’t have time to visit you and since him and Dean were hunting together for most of the time he didn’t want Dean to grow suspicious.

John shot a bullet in the heart of what he thought was the last werewolf he decided to finally go meet you. He was nervous because he didn’t want anything happening to you considering his job.

He finally pulled up to your house. It was small and a little rundown but he didn’t care. All he cared about was you.

You were watching cartoons on the old TV in the living room when you heard the doorbell ring. Your little head perked up and the sudden noise. You hopped off of the couch and walked over to the door and opened it only to reveal a man who was tall and muscular. He looked down at you and started to take in your features.

You were a spitting image of him except you had your mother’s chin and pale skin. You looked at each other in wonder for a good minute.

“H-hi” you squeaked. You were scared of the man standing at your door, especially since he was so big.

“Hey” John said while he was kneeling down to your height. God she is so small he thought.

“Who are you?” You said with more confidence.

John hesitated before he spoke. “My name is John.”

“What are you doing here?” You spoke while crossing your arms.

“I came to meet you.” He said

“Why?”

“Because...” he said while trying to think of the right words “I’m your father.”

You were surprised and a little confused.

You had a lot of questions. Your father? What was he doing here? Where had he been all your short and terrible life? You squinted your eyes and tilted your head a little.

John knew that you were confused “I know that this is a lot of information to take in and maybe if you get your mother then maybe she can explain things easier then I can.”

You didn’t want to bring you mother into this because then she would get furious at you about opening the door and talking to this man. You were tempted to let him in and talk to him and not caring about what her thoughts were. You knew what the punishment would be if you did that. But you were curious to learn more about this man.

“Mom isn’t home right now but you can come in if you want.”

John looked at you in shock. The way you trusted him to come into your house since you just met him made him worried. He saw how sketchy this town was and he saw some of the people, most importantly the men, on the streets and was nervous about how trusting you were.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah”

“Don’t you think that I might hurt you or something?” He asked.

“No”

“Why is that?”

“Because you have a different look in your eyes then the other guys in this town.” You stated.

She’s smart thought John.

“So do you want to come in or...” you asked.

John hesitated “Uh yeah”

You opened the door for him and John walked in. He observed the place. It was dirty and needed cleaning, badly. You seemed to notice his eyes lingering on a certain spot on the wall.

“Sorry” you said shyly

“For what?”

“Our house is dirty” you said while tears started to form in your eyes.

John noticed this and kneeled down once again and hugged you. “It’s alright” he said. You sniffled and pulled back.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah”

You two moved over to the couch and sat down. Y’all stared to talk and before you knew it, it was dark outside.

You yawned.

“You tired?” John asked

“Yeah” you said while yawning agian

“Why don’t we put you to bed? Huh?”

“Will you be here tomorrow?” You asked

John sighed “I don’t think I can stay.”

“Why not?” You said sadly

“Because-“ but before he could say anything else the front door crashed opened and 3 men with yellow eyes, long nails and pointed teeth ran in.

You screamed while John hid you behind his back. The wolves surrounded the both of you.

“Well well what do we have here?” The biggest of the three said “The mighty John Winchester with a little girl. How cute.”

John pulled out his gun “How did you find us?”

“It wasn’t too hard. We just followed your scent and it led us to you.” Said another wolf.

“I’m going to enjoy ripping you apart for killing my family” said the biggest wolf.

“And the little girl will just be a bonus” snickered the smallest.

“Ok listen, you can have me just let her go” John said while you were clinging to his legs, shaking like a leaf.

“I don’t think that’s gonna happen” said the second wolf.

Then all of a sudden you screamed as you were ripped from Johns legs by a wolf that came in through the back door.

“No!” Yelled John

You were now crying hysterically. You didn’t know what was happening or who these people were. “Dad!” You screamed holding your arms out to him while struggling to get away from the werewolf holding you.

“Dad?” Said the one holding you “You have another kid?” The werewolf asked as he bent down and smelled you which was startling and made you whimper. Then the wolf stood up to his full height and said “Yep the little rugrat is yours. I can smell your blood in her veins.”

“Please just let her go” John pleaded “I’ll give you anything!”

“Now this doesn’t sound like the big, bad John Winchester that I’ve heard about.” Said the smallest one.

“How about you let her go and then I’ll show you how big and bad I am” John said with a sneer.

“Hmmm that does sound tempting but I have a better idea.” Said the fourth werewolf.

He kneeled and looked at you in the eyes while putting one hand on each shoulder. “This isn’t going to hurt for long” he said while showing you his teeth. You whimpered, still trying to get away from the monster from your nightmares.

Then a gunshot went off behind you which made you scream once again.

John was tackled to the ground by the other two werewolves and his gun slid across the floor hitting the wall to your left.

You were trying to get to him when the wolf that was holding you grabbed you tight and dug is long, sharp nails into your shoulders. You screamed in pain.

John brought out a silver knife and killed the other two wolves. He then tackled the wolf holding you and was on top of him in seconds.

They were fighting and you ran to the nearest corner watching as best that you could with the tears that were in your eyes.

The wolf then punched your dad in the face and flipped them so now he had the upper hand while your dad was struggling underneath him.

You were scared but you wanted to help so you looked over at the gun and picked it up.

You didn’t know how to use a gun but you did know that when you pulled the trigger the bullet would come out. So you pointed it at the monster that was hurting your father and you pulled the trigger.

A load shot rang off the walls and startled you. John then pushed the dead wolf off of him and ran over to you.

“Are you ok?”

You were shaking and confused “WHAT WAS THAT?!”

John sighed and debated on telling you what that really was.

“DAD WERE THOSE THINGS?” You Said sobbing.

He pulled you into a hug and picked you up. He then sat on the couch with you in his lap.

No way I’m getting out of this one John thought. He sighed. The told you everything.

You were terrified and confused.

After a while you fell asleep in Johns lap. He put you to bed, cleaned up the mess and left.

You woke up the next morning looking for your father but he was nowhere to be found.

About a week later a package came in the mail you opened it and it was a journal from him telling you everything you needed to know about how to kill monsters. That was the last time you ever saw your father.

Seven years later

(YN)’s POV

Dammit!

You just got off of your shift from the towns diner and you were running late to get home.

Mom is going to be so pissed.

Since your Mom didn’t work you had to find a job which was the dishwasher at the local diner. You were surprised that they would hire you considering that you were only 14 but life is full of surprises.

You ran down the street at full speed and took two right turns and one left and there was your house.

You were hoping that your mother wasn’t home but your luck seems to be running out lately because her car was in the driveway.

Crap

You took some deep breaths and walked through the front door.

Something was off. You could feel it. The TV wasn’t on like it normally is or the fresh smell of weed wasn’t was strong as it usually was. But mom could be upstairs with another guy like Ace or James but there was this weird feeling in the pit of your stomach telling you different.

You pulled out your gun loaded with silver bullets and started to go though the house. Downstairs was clean. You slowly start to walk up the stairs to the second floor. She wasn’t in the bathroom or your bedroom. You took the risk of checking her room.

You opened the door and you found her on the floor. Unmoving.

You walk over see a empty pill bottle in one hand and half a bottle of Jack Daniels in the other.

She still hasn’t moved.

You bent down slowly and checked her pulse.

Nothing.

Your mother was dead.

Dean’s POV

“I don’t know man. There isn’t any activity out there.” Said Sam

“Well I guess that we got lucky then.” Dean said as he looked over at his brother.

Sam scoffed “Dean I’m fine. I don’t remember anything about being soulless or anything about hell. So you can stop worrying about me.”

“I’m sorry have you met me?” Dean said “ I just want you to be careful and not having any activity is good because people are safe and you have less of a chance of your wall breaking and leaving you a drooling mess on the floor.”

Sam rolled his eyes “Yeah, whatever”

Dean returned is concentration to the road. He was actually glad that he could have a day off and hopefully he could stop thinking about the world ending crap that was hanging over their heads.

Another hour passed then there was a vibration coming from the glove department.

“What’s that?” Asked Dean

“I think its one of dad’s old phones.” Said Sam while he was opening the glove department. He searched through the clutter until he found the phone.

He answered it.

“Hello?” Sam Said

“Hello is this John Winchester?” Said a woman on the other end with an annoying high pitched voice.

Sam look over at Dean.

What? Dean mouthed

They’re asking for Dad. Sam mouthed back.

What do they want?

I don’t know

“Sir are you still there?” Said the annoying woman on the phone.

“Yeah I’m still here.”

“Is this John Winchester?” She asked again.

“Umm... no this isn’t him.” Said Sam. Dean then took the phone out of his brothers hand and started to talk.

“Why do you need him?” Asked Dean

“Sorry sir I cannot tell you unless you are John Winchester or a relative” said the woman.

“I’m his son. Now who are you and why do you need my father?” Dean said angrily.

“Apologies. My name is Cindy with Bay Area Adoption Services in Mountain View, California. I am calling regarding John Winchester’s daughter.”

Daughter?

“Umm last time I checked my father doesn’t have another kid.” Said Dean.

“Well he does. His name is on her birth certificate and there was a DNA test done when she was born and this was the only number listed to get in contact with him.”

Dean was confused. Dad had a daughter? He had a little sister? Why didn’t he tell me about her?

“Why do you need him? Did something happen?” Dean asked.

“Yes something happened but I cannot discuss that over the phone since I have no identification on who you are. If you want to talk about the situation then we are going to have to meet up.”

“Umm ok. Where do you want to meet up at?”

“Bay Area Adoption Services in Mountain View, California” Said Cindy

They were in Nevada which was about 11 hours until Mountain View.

“What time?”

...

“I can’t believe we are doing this.” Said Dean. He was starting to have second thoughts.

“Hey it’s our sister. It doesn’t hurt to be curious.” Said Sam

“Yeah but what if she is like Adam? Huh? What then?”

“What if she’s not?” Argued Sam

“Well-“ Dean was interrupted by Cindy walking through the door.

“Hello! You much be the Winchester brothers! It’s so nice to meet you!” Cindy Said.

God her voice is worse in person. Thought Dean.

“Yup that’s us.” Sam Said

“So I’ve gone over your identifications and you seem to fit the profiles.” Cindy Said too enthusiastically.

“Good” Said Dean

“So I’m thinking that you would like to know some things about your sister.”

“Yeah” Dean said

“Well (YN) is 14 and a straight A student in all honors classes. She is actually in a grade higher than she should be. She is a little shy but who can blame her for everything she’s been through.”

“Wait. Everything she’s been through?” Asked Dean

“Well she didn’t have a father figure in life and her mother was a alcoholic and a drug addict who was also abusive. Since her mother was unemployed, (YN) had to work two jobs after school and on the weekends. So her life hasn’t been easy.”

“She was abused? Why didn’t you do anything about it?” Asked Sam

“Believe me we tried.” Said Cindy “But every time we went to inspect, her mother would hide things, so we had nothing to report. But we could tell after the incident that (YN) was a little relieved that she wasn’t around her anymore.”

“The incident?” Asked Dean

“(YN) came home from working at the local diner to find her mother dead on the floor.”

Sam and Dean shared a look.

“How exactly did her mother die?” Asked Sam

“Overdose on sleeping pills and alcohol.” Cindy stated. “Why?”

“Just curious” Said Dean

Poor kid

“Okay... well would you like to meet (YN)?”

Cindy Asked.

“Why not” Dean Said with a slightly fake smile.

“Let me go get her.” Said Cindy happily.

(YN)’s POV

They pulled you out of breakfast to talk to someone who might be willing to adopt you. You’ve been here for three days now and all you wanted was to get the hell out of there. Lately you’ve been planning to get out and your pretty close to a almost foul proof plan.

Cindy took you into a room with 4 chairs and a table in the middle. It looked like an interrogation room. There were also two men. One was really tall with long, shaggy hair with puppy dog eyes. The other was slightly shorter with short, spiky hair and apple green eyes. Both were muscled and intimidating to you, considering that you were only 5’1.

“I’ll leave you three to talk to each other.” Cindy Said in her annoyingly high pitched voice.

She closed the door and there was an awkward silence that followed.

You walked over to the table and sat down in front of the two of them. You stared at each other for a little while when the taller one that reminds you of a moose decided to break the ice.

“Hi. I’m Sam and this is my brother Dean.” He Said as he held out his hand for you to shake.

“Umm hi. I’m (YN)” you said quietly, taking Sam’s hand.

You looked over at Dean to see if his hand was out to shake but it wasn’t so you just put your hand in your lap.

An awkward silence followed. “So...” you said trying release the tension in the room.

“So...” Said Dean

“Umm So where did you guys come from?” You Asked

“Northern Nevada” Sam said

“Huh. Isn’t that like 11 hours away or something?” You asked

“Yup” Dean said flatly. He looked bored. Like he didn’t want to be here but honestly neither did you.

A moment of silence followed. You kept looking around the room while wringing your hands, trying to think of a way to either break the silence or get out of there.

While you were looking around your necklace fell out of the collar of your shirt which had an anti possession symbol on it.

“What’s that?” Dean said pointing to your necklace.

You looked down and saw the necklace. “Oh umm it’s a charm that prevents possession.” You Said. Wow real smooth (YN). Now they might think that you worship Satan or something.

“Possession? Like demonic or...?” Dean questioned.

“Well yeah.” You Said.

“Huh. You believe that stuff?” Dean asked skeptically.

You looked at him in the eye. “Call me superstitious.”

Sam and Dean looked at you curiously.

These two know a lot more than they were letting on. The way that they looked at you and the way that Dean asked questions, they probably knew a thing or two about the supernatural world. You were going to ask them if they believed in the supernatural but the door suddenly opened and in walked Cindy “Well now that you’ve learned a little bit about each other I hope that the brothers have come to a conclusion.” She said hopefully while looking between you and the brothers.

“Umm...well... could we talk to you in private please:” Sam Said

“Of course! (YN) could you please come with me?”

“Yeah, sure” you said. You wanted to get out of there more than anything. You gave one last look over to the mysterious brothers who are supposedly from Nevada and you walked out.

Cindy took you to your temporary room and closed the door behind you.

Something was off about those two. I can feel it. I don’t want to stick around and find out. You decided to put your plan into action. You grabbed your backpack with your clothes, money and hunting supplies then opened your window. You were on the third floor so jumping wasn’t an option. You looked on both sides of the building noticing a fire escape a couple of feet away. The only way to get to that was to walk on the tiny ledge on the side of the building that couldn’t have been more than a foot wide. So your options were you could either go with those mysterious men who were demons or god knows what or walk down this ledge and more than likely fall and break a couple of bones.

No competition.

You carefully put your foot on the ledge and grabbed onto the side of the building as best as you could. You started to shuffle over to carefully. There was a large gust of wind that nearly made you topple over the edge but you quickly grabbed onto the edge of the fire escape. Breathing in a sigh of relief, you put one leg over the rail of the escape, then the other. You started to climb down the ladder until you reached the ground.

You ran down the alley and never looked back at the adoption center.

Deans POV

Cindy came back 3 minutes later.

“So have you boys come to a decision?” Cindy asked.

“Well...(YN) seems like a good kid but-” Sam tried to say but Dean interrupted him “Is there a way that we can wait on the adoption? So that we can have some time to think about this?” Sam gave is brother a look saying what are you doing?

“Of course. I can give you 24 hours to think this over. I understand your hesitation considering that adoption is a huge step in both yours and (YN)’s life.”

“Great. See you in 24 hours.” Dean said while walking out of the room.

Once the brothers were outside and in Baby, Sam had a million questions for his brother.

“What the hell Dean?”

“What?”

“You’re not seriously considering this, are you?”

“Why not?” Dean asked

“Dean you know that this life isn’t for a kid, especially one who has barley lived their life.” Sam argued.

“Don’t you think that I know that? I’m not stupid Sam, I know how dangerous this life is, but you saw her necklace and she knew exactly what it represented. Maybe she already hunts.”

“Are you nuts Dean? She’s only 14. How could she hunt? With a fake badge? We both know that no one would buy that and not to mention that she didn’t have that look to her.”

“What look?”

“The look that every hunter has, the look of not having hope and the look of lose and pain.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. I think that she already knows about whats really in the dark and she more than likely knows how to kill almost every evil son of bitch that’s out there.” Dean said.

“We need proof Dean.” Sam said with a hint of annoyance.

“I know that. I’m still not even 100% about this yet but how about this, if we can’t find any proof in the next 24 hours then we drop it and let (YN) have a normal life and get adopted by a soccer mom or something, but if we do find any proof then we can take her and help her. After all she is Dad’s kid, so if any monsters find out about that then we have to protect her. Deal?” Dean offered.

Sam sighed and looked out the window for a good minute before answering. “Deal”

(YN)’s POV

You walked to the bus station and opened the door. There weren’t that many people in there. There was a married couple arguing with the ticket agent about a refund, there was a frazzled mother and her crying child at the vending machines and there was a homeless man who was very dirty and sitting at one of the many benches.

You walked over to one of the counters to a ticket agent who looked bored and annoyed. “Can I help you?” He said flatly.

“Umm yeah I was hoping to buy a bus ticket.” You said

“Doesn’t everyone.” Said the man “And aren’t you a little young to be buying a bus ticket by yourself?”

You pulled out your wallet and handed the man a 20. “I don’t have to be.” You said.

The agent perked up and immediately took the money with a little too much force. “Where to?”

“Whats your furthest route?” You asked.

“Hmm lemme see.” The man said while looking at his computer. After about half a minute of listening to the man type he answered “Aspen, Colorado.”

“Perfect. How much?”

“About $400.”

Your mouth dropped open but you gotta do what you gotta do “Okay” You said while handing him the money. He counted the money out loud and when he was satisfied he pushed a button on the keyboard and a ticket printed out. He handed you the ticket. “The bus leaves here in about 5 hours.”

“Okay, thank you.” You stared to walk out but something crossed your mind. You need to cover your tracks because CPS will be looking for you and they would more than likely come here. So you turned around and walked back to the counter and pulled out a 50 and handed it to the man. “If anybody comes in here asking for me, tell them that I went to Southern California.”

The man gave you a look but took the money. “You betcha.”

You walked out of the building and you put the ticket into your left jacket pocket. You had time to kill and on your way here you saw a small diner. So you started to make your way to the diner.

...

You took a seat at the back of the diner and sat in a chair facing away from the door. You ordered a bacon cheeseburger with extra fries and extra bacon with a cherry coke. While you were waiting for your food you heard a rumble of a car. You turned around and saw a beautiful black ‘67 Chevy Impala pulling into a parking spot.

Damn what I would kill to have that car

While you were admiring the car you didn’t see who was driving it. When both of the front doors swung open the two men from the adoption center walked out and shut the doors.

Crap. What are they doing here?

You turned around and put on your hood on to cover your face.

I can’t leave now, they would notice me.

You tried to think of any escape routes other than the front door. The back door from the kitchen might work if you didn’t get caught which is a pretty big if. There might be a window in the bathroom but if there wasn’t then you would have to walk out and risk them seeing your face. You were trapped.

The bell above the door rung and Sam and Dean walked in and sat down at one of the tables in the middle. You moved your hair to try to cover your face more.

“What are you two fellas gonna get?” The waitress, Kacey, asked.

“I’ll have a bacon cheeseburger with extra bacon and extra fries while my brother here will have a salad with extra tomatoes.”

“Ok. I’ll get that right out.” Kacey said in a cheery voice.

After a couple of minutes of listening to Sam and Dean argue about who was better, Jet Li or Chuck Norris, Kacey brought out your order.

“Would you like to have any condiments with that?΅

“Umm, some ketchup please.” You said quietly trying not to be heard by the brothers.

“Okay! Be out in a shake!” Kacey said while walking back to the kitchen.

Deans phone rang and he answered it. After another minute of waiting, Kacey walked out with the ketchup. She placed the bottle on the table and walked away. You put some by your fries and on your burger. When you were done you screwed the lid back on it and placed it on the edge of the table. Dean hung up the call and started to talk quietly with Sam. You reached for your drink and your arm bumped into the bottle which made it topple over the edge of the table. It broke with a crash.

Of course it had to be a glass bottle.

Everyone in the tiny diner looked at where the noise came from and looked straight at you. You looked up and saw the brothers staring at you.

Uh oh

They shared a look, stood up and walked over to your table.

Crap what do I do?

They stood at the end of your table and stared down at you.

“Well hello (YN). Fancy meeting you here.” Dean said.

You tried to play it off cool. “I know. Isn’t it a small world?” You said with a nervous chuckle.

Dean crossed his arms while Sam arched is eyebrow.

“What are you doing here?” Sam asked while taking a seat across from you. Dean followed suit.

“Umm...eating?”

“Cute. He means why are you here instead of the adoption center?” Dean said

“Well... I went on a walk and got hungry and then I came here.” You said while scratching the back of your neck.

“Huh” Sam said, not buying a word you were saying,“Some walk. Considering that the adoption center just called us saying that you were missing.” Sam said.

You didn’t know what do say so you just looked down at your hands in your lap.

“Are you running away?” Dean asked

You looked back up at them. “If you want to call it that.”

“Why?” Dean asked while looking in your eyes.

“Because I don’t want to stick around here and I don’t want to get adopted.”

“Why not?” Sam asked while looking at you with his puppy eyes.

“Because I have very bad luck that follows me wherever I go. Believe me I’m saving you the trouble.” You said while popping a fry in your mouth.

“Bad luck like...” Sam pried

“Bad luck like getting people hurt or worse.” You said a little agitated.

“Is this about your mom?” Dean asked

You tensed when he said the word mom.

“No”

The brothers noticed you tense. “Are you sure?” Sam asked.

You let out an angry sigh “This has nothing to do with my mom. I hated her and I know what you are gonna say ‘Oh your just overreacting’ or some crap like that but I did and I still do. She was a selfish bitch who only cared about drinking, drugs and sex. So could you please drop it.” You now had tears spilling down your face and you avoided eye contact with Sam and Dean.

Silence followed for about a minute then you wiped your face and got your self situated. “I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean to blow up like that.”

“Hey its okay. Its understandable.” Sam said

You sniffled.

More awkward silence followed. You wanted to break the silence so you asked them a question. “So I’m just wondering, why did you guys come from Nevada for me?”

“Well we got a phone call from the agency telling us about you.” Dean said

“Why? Were you guys looking for someone to adopt or what?” You asked

Sam and Dean looked at each other then Dean spoke. “No but they were looking for our dad.”

“Why would they be looking for your dad?”

The brothers were quiet for a little bit, trying to find the right words.

“Who are you people?” You asked

“We told you.” Dean said

“Yeah you told me your first names and that’s it.”

Dean sighed “My name is Dean Winchester and this is my brother Sam.”

“Winchester? Like John Winchester?” You asked

“You know him?” Dean asked

“Well yeah. He’s my dad.” You said it like it was obvious.

“Well... he’s our dad too.” Sam said

“What?!” You said. Dad had other kids? I had brothers?

“Hold on. Have you even met dad before?” Dean asked

“Once. About seven years ago.”

“What happened?”

You went quiet. “You wouldn’t believe me.”

“Try us” Sam said

You sighed. “I was seven and it was a normal day. Mom was out and I was home alone when the doorbell rang. I went to answer it and there stood Dad. We talked and hung out all day and when it was night I was ready to go to bed when...” you stopped yourself. If you told them what really happened then they would think that you are crazy.

“When what?” Dean asked

“When the door was kicked in and some... werewolves broke in.” You looked up at your brothers and they were staring at you.

“I told you that you wouldn’t believe me.”

“We never said we didn’t” Sam said calmly “What happened after that?”

You took a deep breath “Then they surrounded us while Dad got a gun out. The wolves were talking about how he didn’t seem to live up to his reputation. One snuck in and grabbed me from Dad. It nearly bit me when dad killed the others and tackled the one who was holding me. I saw his gun on the floor. picked it up and killed it. Then Dad told me about everything.”

Sam and Dean were quiet.

“Then what happened?” Sam asked

“I woke up the next morning and he was gone. A week later he sent this in the mail.” You dug around in your bag when you finally found the old, leather bound journal that he sent to you all those years ago.

“This has taught me everything I know about hunting.” You said as you handed your brothers the journal.

Dean took it and flipped through the pages. “It’s in his handwriting.” He said to Sam.

Sam then took it from his brother and did the same as Dean. He handed it back to you.

Sam spoke “We have one like it.” He signaled Dean to get it out. Dean gave you a wary look but got it out and handed it to you.

It looked just like yours but thicker and more worn.

“May I?” You asked

Dean and Sam nodded.

You flipped it open. You were hit with the smell of whiskey and ink. You flipped through the pages when a picture fell out. You picked it up and observed it. It was of a woman with a bright smile and blond hair hugging a little boy whose face was full of freckles and had bright green eyes.

You looked up at Dean and asked him “Is this you and your mom?”

“Yeah” He said with a hint of sadness

“She’s pretty.” You said as you handed him the photo and the journal.

“Thanks” He said.

“So, you hunt?” Sam said

“Yeah I do. Mostly ghosts and demons but there’s been a pack of werewolves or vamps here and there. I killed a ghoul and a witch once. That wasn’t very fun.” You told them.

They looked at you like you just grew two heads.

“By yourself?” Dean asked in shock.

“Yeah”

“But your only 14.” Sam said with the same amount of shock as his brother.

“And? Age is just a number. I know how to work a gun and I know how to kick some ass.” You said in a proud voice.

“When did you actually start to hunt?” Dean asked in a big brother voice.

“When I was 10. When I was younger I found cases and sent them to local hunters and now I hunt with cases that are near me.” You told them.

Dean shook his head while Sam’s mouth hung open.

“And another thing. How do I know if you are legit? You could be a ghoul or a shifter for all I know.”

Sam and Dean gave you a look but held out their arms for you to test. You looked around to make sure that no one was watching when you pulled out a small pocket knife made of silver and cut them both with it. When their skin didn’t sizzle you got out a flask that had a cross on the outside of it and poured it onto their skin.

“Okay. Your turn.” Dean said.

You held out your arm and he did the same to you. When you were all satisfied you spoke. “Sorry I meant to do that earlier but I didn’t want you to think that I was trying to kill you or something.”

“We understand. It doesn’t hurt to be too careful.” Sam said with a smile.

Some time passed with silence.

“So what now?” You asked your brothers.

“What do you mean?” Dean asked

“Well I have two options. Option one is to take this bus ticket-” you pulled out the bus ticket you bought earlier “- or I could go with you guys.”

Sam and Dean looked at each other and had a silent conversation.

“Look, I know that is a lot to ask of you guys. I mean your the infamous Winchester brothers who saved the world. You always have a world ending crisis on your plates and I get if this is too much. I can go on my way and if you like, we don’t have to talk to each other again. It’s your choice.”

They both looked at you like you were crazy.

“Would you quit hunting if you went on your own?” Dean asked

“No” You said

“Why not?” Sam asked

“Because you can’t just leave the hunting life. You can run and hide all you want but it will catch up to you. So I might as well embrace my future rather than fight it and get hurt.”

You had a point. Both Sam and Dean have tried to live normal lives but it didn’t work out and they didn’t want you to go through that pain that they went through. Although they didn’t want you to go through the pain of the hunting life, you had them to protect you. That much they knew.

After a while of thinking Dean stood up and Sam followed suit. They started to walk to the front of the diner. Dean turned around and said “You coming or not kid?”

A smile grew on your face. You grabbed your backpack and slung it over your shoulder while you threw some cash on the table and you walked towards your brothers.

Sam opened the back door of the impala for you and you slid in. Both brothers got in the front seat and Dean turned the key in the ignition which made the engine roar a beautiful sound.

You pulled onto the highway that lead you down your new life and destiny.

The End

(Sorry if this sucked. It was my first story)

#spn #supernatural #reader insert #sister!reader #winchesters x sister!reader #dean winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester x sister!reader #john winchester x daughter!reader #first story #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction

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