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wienerbarnes · 3 years

Text

Hayloft

Pairing: 40s!Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2,460

Warnings: SMUT 18+ !!!!! if u are a minor dni w this or my blog plssss, also getting caught... if that bothers anyone

SONG (Spotify link): Hayloft - Mother Mother

A/N: based off of the song hayloft by mother mother! some nice smut in a barn for yall😌 enjoy!

MAIN MASTERLIST

Bucky kisses you sweetly behind the club, the jazz seeping through the cracks of the backdoors the two of you snuck out of and the cold air having no effect on you as you embrace each other.

Bucky thinks you look like a dream in red, his arms tightening around your waist, bringing you impossibly close as he continues to kiss you deeply, tongue slipping out to tease your lips and ask for a taste. Your soft hands feel gentle and loving, one on his shoulder and the other holding his cheek, and he doesn’t want to move from this spot.

The hand moves from his cheek to his hair, a bit damp from sweat as they’ve been dancing all night, and shivers run down his spine as your nails scratch against his scalp. He pulls away from your mouth, knowing his lips are tinted red as your lipstick is a little out of place, and moves to plant wet kisses down your neck. He buries his face into your neck, sucking on the sweetest spots of your skin and you breathe out next to his ear, the sound causing his hands to grip at your waist.

He moves up and takes your ear lobe into his mouth, a hand moving lower to rest on your behind and you mumble out, “Come to my house.”

“Whenever you want, darlin’.”

“Now.”

He pauses. He pulls away slightly to meet your eyes. He imagines the implication you're making but can’t possibly believe you want him to go over to your parents house at ten at night.

“I’d be happy to walk you home, baby,” He begins, wrapping the arm that was touching your bum around your shoulders lovingly.

“We have this little barn next to the house. I want you to meet me there tonight.” You tell him.

Barn. So you must not live in the city. He’s lucky he asked to use the car tonight.

“I need to grab my friends so we can leave in her car, she’ll drop me off first. And I’ll wait for you in the barn.” You explain further.

“Okay.” He finds himself agreeing.

He knows the area where you live. Far from the city, but a nice, quiet, private area for a family to live. Something he’d like when he’s older.

He didn’t think he’d be driving miles away for a girl he’d only met tonight at the club, but he also didn’t think a war would be on the way, and who knows what’ll happen after that. He thinks he needs to start living a bit more adventurously and doing things his mother would frown upon. Like driving to dame’s house late at night and sneaking into her parents' barn to cop a feel.

He sighs to himself as the roads get lonelier and lonelier, signifying he’d be arriving soon. He feels like he’s about to lose his virginity all over again, he’s so damn nervous. He turns the headlights off and slows down as he sees the barn in the distance. The last thing he needs is to wake up your family with the purr of his engine and by shining lights through their windows.

He parks a small walk away, hiding the car underneath a tree. He shivers a bit as the wind night wind blows; you held onto his jacket at his request.

Very quietly he approaches the barn and he slowly drags the door open, slipping inside to see a few lanterns lit, illuminating you, perched up all pretty on a bale of hay. You’re in your undergarments, a silky dress that exposes your shoulders and gives him a view of your cleavage, the hem ending at the middle of your shin.

Your hair is a bit more put together than it was at the club and your lipstick is cleaned up and bright as cherries once more.

“Wow.” Is what slips out of his mouth, only realizing he said something when you giggle.

You stand from your seat and walk over to him, grabbing his large hands in your own and leading him back to where you were.

“We need to be real quiet; we can’t wake my daddy up.” You whisper.

“I’ll keep you quiet, babydoll, don’t you worry.” He whispers back, leaning down to kiss her.

Her hands raise to his shoulders as she gently pushes him down, encouraging him to sit where she was previously, and he does. She kisses him again when she takes a seat in his lap, straddling him. The dress shifts and rides up over her knees as Bucky’s hands immediately move to her hips.

He kisses you the same way he did outside the club, soft, wet lips pressing against each other over and over again, his tongue slipping between your teeth and playing with your own tongue.

His fingers inch from gripping the skin on your hips, down to your soft thighs, to the hem of the dress, moving it up slowly, almost to keep you from noticing. You pull away and your lips latch onto his neck, trailing all around the area, leaving red prints in your wake. He takes the opportunity to peek down and shakily move the dress up past your hips, exposing the thin, red underwear covering your modesty.

“Christ.” He mumbles, a reaction to the combination of the little number you have on and the feeling of you sucking a love bite onto his neck.

A giggle into the warmth of his neck, “You like?”

“I like,” He groans back, lifting the fabric higher and higher until you pull back to remove it, exposing a red bra, the lacey details on the trim and the bow in between your breasts giving him goosebumps.

“Your turn, Bucky.” You pinch at his sides, and he can’t help but plant another kiss on you.

He starts undoing the buttons on his shirt but he’s so damn nervous his fingers twitch just a little too much. You help him, soft hands glide over his rough ones, and he can’t help but take advantage and reach to grab at your hips again. He squeezes at the soft flesh under his fingers while you undo the buttons for him, only pulling away when he has to slip the shirt from his shoulders and remove the white cotton top he had on underneath.

“You’re a dream, doll, you’re so beautiful.” He compliments, feeling himself melt under your touch as your hand drag and scratch lightly across his chest, shoulders, and back.

He scoops you up and shushes you when you squeal a little too loudly - after all, he doesn’t want your daddy to wake up - and lays you down on the hay, ignoring the little twigs that poke at the both of you.

Your legs are tangled together with his as he slips his tongue in your mouth and yours in his, hands roaming each other's bodies as though it’s the first time either of you have done this before. He reaches a hand under your back and you arch it a bit, allowing him to unhook your bra and press your chest to his. He feels your hardened nipples through the fabric against his chest and he swallows as he finally tosses your bra to the side.

He doesn’t waste any time in diving down and capturing a nipple in his mouth, licking and sucking and kissing while his other hand gropes and squeezes at the opposite breast. You gasp and shiver under him, the combination of the cold, night air and the warmth of his hands and mouth making you shake and sweat all at the same time.

Switching between your breasts to ensure they receive equal love, Bucky thinks he’s obsessed. Your skin is delicious; so soft and smooth and heavenly, he could kiss it and bite it and lick all day long if you’d let him. He’s so consumed by you that he doesn’t even realize you’ve unbuckled his belt and undone his pants until he feels a small hand grasp at his shaft and begin to rub.

A small moan escapes him and you press your lips to his to quiet his noises. You keep rubbing and rubbing and rubbing, feeling him get wetter and slicker with every touch. His hands stay at your chest, but his focus turns to kissing you deeply and passionately.

Your other hand joins in his pants, reaching a bit further to caress at his balls. He can’t take it and doesn’t want to embarrass himself so early in the night, so he sits up and plucks your hand out of his pants and steps off the hay. He kneels on the ground in front of you and you sit up on the haystack, hands reaching to cup his face so as to not be away from his skin for too long.

Desperate kisses laid on his cheeks and mouth as he tugs at your hips so you’re sitting at the very edge, knees spread open for him to fit between. His rough hands hook around the hem of your underwear and tug, the sound of the stitches stretching hitting his ears and he tries to tug them down your smooth legs, your soft lips making it hard for him to concentrate.

He grabs the hands that are on either side of his face and kisses them sloppily, bending down a tad further on his knees in order to hook beneath your legs and bring them up and on his shoulders. A gasp sounds from you as he dives in, licking between your legs like it’s his last meal.

So many men at the mine and his father’s friends talk about it; about putting your mouth on a woman like this. He remembers hearing it for the first time as a teenager, blushing at the conversation but feeling proud that his father didn’t kick him out of the room, deeming him old enough to hear such topics.

They’d talk about how they loved it, how they hated it, and Bucky thinks back on his father’s friends, the ones who couldn’t stand going down on their wives, and how stupid Bucky thinks they are.

He could eat you like this forever. You taste, your smell, the way he feels your thick thighs clench around his head, the muscles flexing beneath his fingers as he keeps one hand on your thigh and the other wrapped around your stomach to keep you in place. You’re perfect.

He glances up to see you have a fist in your mouth, eyes shut tightly, using all your might to keep quiet, and it makes Bucky shiver, tingles flowing through his spine to his groin, and he moans into your heat.

As much as he’d like to feel you come in his mouth, he doesn’t think he’ll last long enough to even get inside you. He reluctantly pulls away and sloppily kisses you, half-hazardly pulling down his slacks and underwear the rest of the way down, tugging off his socks in the process.

You lay back on the hay stacks once more and he props one knee up, the other leg keeping most of his balance on the ground. He hooks your legs around his body, the limbs tangling together, tied up in knots, as he rubs his dick through your folds, slicking himself up even more.

It’s not long before he pushes in, slowly, because he hears your pained whine at his size. He hears himself moan, louder than he had intended to let out, and bites his lip to hold it in, remembering what you said about your daddy.

He leans forward, caging you in, and one of your soft hands grip at his forearm, the other scratching at his back, silently begging for him to start moving.

He pulls out almost completely before thrusting back in, moving in and out and gaining speed as he hears your gasps and moans in his ear.

Veins are bulging out of both his arms, your nails creating crescent shapes in his skin. Continuing his pace, he brings his head out of your neck where he was planting sloppy kisses and looks at your face. Eyes closed and eyebrows brought together, your mouth is open and the red lipstick you had on earlier is now almost completely gone, the tint still present on your lips. He knows where the lipstick went, he has it on his own face, on his neck, down his body, around his fingers, prints around his cock - he lets out another small moan at the thought of it.

He feels your legs tight around his own, restricting his movement, so he hooks one of your legs in his elbow, bringing it up higher and moves his own leg onto the bale of hay, immediately moving to quicken his pace, fucking you harder and faster than before.

A loud moan escapes you at the feeling of him so deep inside you, no time given to adjust, and in the moment, Bucky’s free hand slaps over your mouth, moans now muffled by his rough palm.

Little do the two of you know, it was already too late. Your daddy creeps outside the house, shotgun in hand, after being woken up by noises coming from the barn. It’s those damn cats again, he thinks. He knows it’s those damn cats, but he still needs to check.

He creeps outside to the barn, clad only in his long johns and a t-shirt, and hears the noises clearer as he gets closer.

Everything happens so fast.

Your daddy swinging open the door to the barn, the sound of a shotgun cocking, your loud gasp at being caught, Bucky’s curses as he quickly pulls out of you.

“What the hell?!” Your father screams.

Bucky doesn’t dare answer, only snatches his pants and shoes off the ground and fumbles to collect himself, simultaneously trying to make his way to the exit as quickly as possible. He didn’t even grab his underwear, his bare ass and semi-hard cock uncomfortable in his slacks from tonight.

He doesn’t focus on that feeling for too long though, not when a bullet flies past his head and into the wood behind him. He runs, one hand carrying his shoes and the other holding his pants up, not even buttoned or buckled.

“You better run, Buck!” He hears your voice call out, sounding more amused than scared, and he assumes this kind of thing has happened to you before.

Another shot rings out into the air and Bucky considers himself lucky to have missed it. Unlike you, it seems, this is his first time getting caught having sex and then being shot at.

You gave him one hell of a night to remember, though.

#bucky barnes #40s!bucky #bucky x reader #40s!bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes oneshot #marvel #oof

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sailorhyunjinz · 3 years

Text

~ ℙ𝕦𝕣𝕡𝕝𝕖 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕀𝕀 ~

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: SMUT! Dom!Minho x sub!reader criminal!skz, gang!au, angst(?), criminality, mentions of scars, mentions of blood, mentions of injuries, explicit language, mentions of robbery, mentions of police, mentions of cuts, alcohol consumption, mentions of fights, public sex, PIV, fingering, unsafe sex (STAY SAFE), orgasm (m/f), cum, slight bulge kink, squint to see the degradation.

PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS SINCE THIS PIECE CONTAINS VIOLENCE!

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 2.6 k

ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖: EEEEP part 2 of purple hearts that is more of a background story to the first one so if you haven’t read the first one please do so here!~ (also jesus fucking christ did i struggle with this sooo... don’t expect much lmao)

OH if you want a song recommendation; A good song never dies - Saint Motel (fits this fic heheh...)

A loud bang erupted through the room alerting the 7 other boys. Bangchan’s fist was firmly planted on the table as he looked at the shoked faces off the seven boys.

“We can’t go on like this anymore”

He spoke in a raspy voice, his breath quivering as the other boys avoided eye contact with both Bangchan and between themselves.

“Did you see what happened out there?!” Felix flinched at Chan’s loud shout as Changbin smirked, spinning in the office chair and staring at the ceiling.

“It’s not that serious, Chan! Just a couple bruises tha-” Changbin started speaking but was soon cut off.

“Nonsense!” Chan growled out. “All of this because that son of a bitch won’t get a job, we included you because you were a detective. You were useful once, Minho”.

The entire room glanced over at Minho. His cheek scarred, a droplet of blood desended down from his knuckles as he swept his hair back with one hand.

“Not my fault, you wanted me to plan the different robbing schemes so how the fuck can I work, huh? Ever though about that?” He spat on the floor as his gaze was locked with Bangchan’s. The leader getting visibly annoyed by Minho’s tone.

“Calm down everybody” Seungmin said, carefully nudging at the curtain infront of the window and looking down at the blue and red lights that was flashing all over town. “Continue like this and we’ll all be dead meat for the police”.

Hyunjin was sitting across from Changbin, only the big white table seperating them as a lonely lightbulb hanged in the middle.

“I agree with Chan, Minho used to help by getting access to information only the detectives had but now... well, he’s not doing much” he scratched the back of his neck while talking.

Minho was aggrivated by his words, ready to lunge at anyone that dared to open their mouth about how he wasnt helpful after he’d been fired from his job as a detective.

“I-I’m gonna find a job, not like you fuckers sitting here and living off others pain”. He tried to defend himself but only earned a scoff from Felix.

“Please,,, don’t try to judge us when you’re in it yourself” Felix remarked snarkily, sitting on the cold stone flooring. A first aid kit was laid out infront of him as he treated a big wound on his forearm, wrapping bandage over the cut and hissing as the material stinged against the raw wound.

“I’ll find my ways, don’t worry” he devilishly smirks, many of the boys sighing and rolling their eyes. All except one. Bangchan. His blood was boiling. Did Minho not see how the whole groups future was hanging on by a thin red thread? The red representing how much blood has been shed by these boys in order to survive in this vile world.

Silence filled the room, only the faint sound of police sirens could be heard from outside. Minho clenched his jaw, looking around at the silent boys before grabbing his coat from the wobbly coathanger and exiting the mobs headquarter, shutting the door loud enough to startle both Jeongin and Jisung. Confused glances were exchanged while Bangchan just stood at the end of the table, staring out into the dark night.

---

The nightlife was well and alive in the big city. Music blaring, people chattering and cars humming. The neon lights were all around him as well as the vast crowds of people enjoying the night. Minho walked into a bar that was a couple of blocks away from where he and the boys had been moments earlier, robbing a jewely store and beating up the owners until puddles of blood formed around them. Most of the times it was easy but today the police were a step ahead and bad planning by Bangchan almost led to the boys in handcuffs. Luckily, all eight managed to escape, leaving the bodies and the spray painted SKZ mob logo on the old fashioned walls of the jewerly store.

The bar reeked of alcohol as the lights were low, only a couple of silhouette visible. Unsteady bar chairs decorated the dim bar along with a wall of fancy liquor bottles and as Minho sat down he looked down at the bar table before croaking out;

“One boulevardier“

He licked his lips as he looked cockily at the bartender that quickly nodded, intimidated by the wound on his cheek. Minho rubbed the back of his neck whilst comtemplating his life choices. Graduated with a law degree, once being a well respected detective but what was he worth now? He was just a dirty criminal, ruining lives in order to survive. The drink was placed infront of him, a coaster on the bottom of the wide glas as the drink condensed, forming beeds of liquid on the rim. Just as he lifted the glas to his chapped lips you tapped him on the shoulder.

“Excuse me”

You stood behind his hunched figure and met his gaze as he turned around, drink in hand. You show your detective badge before speaking.

“y/n, y/l/n. Happened to see any commotion here tonight, sir?

He scoffs which makes you confused as you look him straight into his cold brown eyes.

“Detective? At least you got to keep your job”

Minho turns back and you stand there, wondering if he’s drunk or just refusing to cooperate.

“Sir, I asked you if you’d seen anything that could lead us to the SKZ mob? I’m pretty sure you know who they are. You know, the ones that makes the entire city shake of fear.”

“Sure, I know of them.” He smirked with his answer.

He patted the empty bar chair next to him, signaling for you to sit which caught you off guard. You were hesitant since he didn’t look like the friendliest type but you nodded, slowly sitting down next to him.

“Look, I might even surprise you about how much I know” he remarked, steadily raising the glas to his dry lips.

“Is that so? How do you know so much?” you asked, geniunly interested in him and that scar on his cheek.

“Former detective” he stated simply.

Your eyebrows jerked at his words. ‘Former detective?’ you thought, losing his job must have been hard on him judging from his scruffy appearence and by the way he waved his finger at the bartender, ordering another drink.

“Then why did you lose your job?” Curiosity was going to be the death of you.

“Aren’t you asking too many questions, baby?”

Who was he calling baby? The two of you had met minutes ago but something in the way his voice rang through that word caused shivers to descend down your spine.

“I’m a detective, that my job and you should know that” you replied sassily, not knowing what to do with the butterflies in your stomach upon hearing him call you baby.

“I could help you but it comes with a cost.”

He moved his hand in a circular motion, swirling the liquor as the floating ice cubes bumped against eachother, the sound being completely masked by the distinct chattering of other guests.

“Well,,, what do you want me to do?” You looked at him as he stared straight ahead, his silvery earring swaying as he turned his head towards you, grinning.

“A job and you.”

His deep brown eyes seemed to draw you in but you had to resist, you were on a patrolling shift after all.

“I’m s-sorry,,, This is not appropriate behaviour” you say as you try to get up before being abruptly pulled back by your wrist, the purple heart on your bracelet reflecting in the minimally lit bar.

“I know damn well that there is a promotion looming in the air” he said, not breaking eye contact with the bracelet on your arm. He was right. If he had valuable information it could change your career, make you climb higher in the ladder of success and peer down at all your co-workers that were once laughing at your lack of skills.

“H-how’d you know?” you said, flustered at his big hand that was still tightly gripping your wrist. He flashed his devilish grin before yanking you by the arm, dragging you to the bathroom.

“W-wait,,, what are you-”

Pushing the door to the bathroom open, he slammed you against a cubical as he crashed his lips onto yours. Luckily the bathroom was empty leaving Minho without any hesitation to fuck you so hard that you’d be longing for more, fuck you so that you’d be left with no other choice but to hire him. You melted in his touch and as much as you knew how wrong this was something about his mysterious aura had you answering his kiss, pursing your lips and slipping your tongue inside of him. The kiss quickly got heated, sparks flying as his fingertips lightly nudged on the band of your jeans. Minho tilted his head, cupping your warm soft cheek with his brittle and bloody hands as you moaned into the kiss, adrenaline rushing through you at the thought of getting caught at any moment.

Minho pulled you into a cubical, your bracelet jingling from the sudden movement. Locking the door, he put his hand by the side of your head and towered over you making you feel helpless. You needed him inside of you.

“Deal?” he leaned over to your ear, his hot breath tickled your ear and all you could do was nod as you desperatly clenched around nothing.

You reattached your lips on his, the bitter taste of liquor spreading in your mouth as your tongues fought for dominance. Minho stroked your hair until his hand slowly moved to peel off your shirt, exposing your bra strap. His touch on your bare shoulder made you shudder and your core quivering in anticipation, feeling a wet patch on your underwear. His hand unbuttoned your pants causing you to gulp loudly, holding the back of his neck to deepen the kiss. Without warning his cold fingertips slid down beneath your panties, grazing your sopping folds and feeling himself get painfully hard, not wanting to admit the effect you had on him.

“Already this wet, babygirl?”

He broke the kiss, looking at your pained expression as he inserted a finger into your dripping pussy. Your eyes tightly shut as your hands wrapped around his arm, needing something to hold on to before your trembling legs gave up on you. You quickly stripped yourself from your pants and underwear, the fabric pooling around your feet and touching the surprisingly clean bathroom tiles.

“Needy I see” he scoffed, inserting a second finger and sending you over the moon with pleasure, your hands still wrapped around his wrist.

“s-shut up, you m-made me like this” you stutter back at him, trying to impose some sort of dominance but Minho only swiped his tongue across his bottom lip, looking at you with hungry dark eyes. A broken moan escaped your lips that glistened from saliva, Minho curled his fingers upwards, grazing your g-spot with every move. Before another strained moan managed to escape your lips he retracted his fingers, lapping off your juices from his long fingers with a mischievous look in his eyes.

“Turn around”

His cold voice pierced your eardrums and as if you’d been hexed you complied, your body moving to his command. Your hot cheek pressed up against the cubical door as Minho’s body was dangerously close to yours, his clothed bulge rubbing against your bare ass. The sound of his belt unbuckling echoed as you pressed your ass up against his bulge, desperate for his cock.

In a swift motion both his pants and underwear dropped down to the floor, his erect veiny member springing out, the tip shining with precum. He pumped his length a couple of times before rubbing the tip against your dripping heat making you mewl out in suspense, the burning feeling in your core growing stronger. Minho alined himself with your entrance, slowly pushing in the tip to which you hissed, a momentary sting hitting your senses. He teased you by dragging his fingertips across your buttcheeks and up your spine, goosebumps erupting.

Not being able to control yourself you pushed your butt out making you sink deeper on his length, earning a groan from the dark haired boy.

“Desperate much?” he cooed from behind you.

Your hands formed into fists as they held you body up from the door.

“F-fuck,,, hurry, I’m still on my shift you know?” you spat out at him, your legs shaking from how his dick stretched out your tight walls.

“Whatever you say”

He laced his fingers through your hair, grabbing a fistful before turning his hand and yanking you towards him, your back arching as his hips slam against yours causing your butt to jiggle. You choked on your own moan as Minho’s hand tightly held you by the roots.

The movement repeated and got harder by each thrust causing you to bite your lip in order to stop from screaming out in pleasure. Heat rose to your cheeks as your eyes rolled back into your skull, stray pieces of hair landing infront of your hair. Sweat beaded on Minho’s forehead, his groans getting louder as he neared his sweet release.

“S-so tight,,, fuck.” He spoke haltingly, hating the fact that you made him weak. In order to hold on for longer you clenched around him not knowing that he’d grunt loudly.

“Now you’re c-clenching around me like a little whore?”

A string of moans ensued from your delicate lips upon hearing his new nickname to you. How did he know that you liked it? You could only nod, your speech all slurred from the impact of his dick burrowing deep into your cervix. The knot in your stomach tightened, your head dazed as Minho’s thrusts became uneven, the grip on your hair tightening. Not feeling your legs any longer the knot unraveled, your body shivering from the orgasm that washed upon you, your juices coating Minho’s dick that was still pounding into you at an immense speed.

“A-aah,,,s-shit!” you screamed out as he rushed after his own orgasm, overstimulating you in the meantime. Tears prickled in the corners of your watery eyes as Minho’s last moan echoed in the room, the moan being high in pitch. He pulled out of you leaving your cunt dripping as he pumped his length a couple of times, throwing his head back before his white cum spurted onto your butt, feeling the warm substance drip down your leg. The two of you panted, chest heaving as your forehead made contact with the door, legs weak.

In your peripheral vision you see the boy stretching out a paper towel, his chest heaving as he wiped off the small sweat beads with the back of his hand. You shake your head in order to come back to earth before taking the paper towel from his hand, muttering a small “thank you”.

“So what you say, babygirl?” His dick turning flaccid before pulling up his pants, looking at you wonderingly. You wipe off the cum and discard the paper in a small waste bin before you reach down to grab your panties and pants, pulling them briskly up. You reach for your back pocket, holding out a business card between your pointer and long finger with one hand, the other hand messing with your hair, making it look presentable.

“Call me on Monday” you say before stumbling out of the cubical, leaving the grinning boy behind you.

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shemarmooresfedora · 3 years

Text

Menagerie

Summary Quote: “Don’t you get it? It’s all been a lie, Spence. Since the moment we met, our entire relationship has been founded on a carefully crafted lie and since then, we have been tricked into thinking this was love...but maybe that was a lie too.”

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Genre: Angst with happy ending, Fluff

A/N: this fic has already been completed! it’s 25 chapters and just over 40,000 words. i don’t plan on posting all the chapters on to here but i have included the first two and the ao3 link to the rest is at the bottom if you are interested!

Chapter 1

You woke up from your peaceful slumber to hear a loud crash followed closely by someone yelling “FBI”. You screamed, alerting the agents of your presence thinking you were in danger but once the agents had reached your bedroom, you were being put in handcuffs and read your rights.

“W-What is happening? Is this some sort of sick joke?” you stuttered.

“Do you think killing three men is a sick joke?” the muscular intimidating agent spat back.

You were in utter shock. You barely even left the house let alone go out on a murderous rampage.

“I-I don’t know what you think I did b-but I can assure you I-I didn’t kill anyone or do anything illegal,” you tried to stay as calm as possible but you were shaking profusely.

The other agent that was the back-up in your apprehension seemed to notice this and took some sympathy on you by lightening his grip on your cuffs as he led you out of your front door that had been kicked down.

You sat in the chilly interrogation room wishing you had something else on rather than a thrifted oversized t-shirt with stains on it that said “Best Dad Ever” and sweatpants. They removed your handcuffs, I guess you weren't considered that much of a threat in a locked room in FBI Headquarters. Although you could not see past the one-sided glass, it was obvious the agents from before and possibly others from their team were standing on the other side, observing you.

“Well she is definitely not what I was expecting,” Prentiss was the first to break the silence as the whole BAU team watched you through the glass.

“She was sleeping when we apprehended her. Her facial expressions and body language showed clear signs of distress but I can not be certain if it was because we have the wrong person or she is scared she finally got caught. In her apartment, we found nothing in the slightest bit incriminating, mostly just lots of books,” Spencer spoke, while he was trying to remain impartial, he had admired your taste in literature as he was looking for evidence.

“I’m not convinced. I think this is whole ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ thing is an act,” Morgan stated as he strolled to the door leading to the room you were being held in.

The door opened and your eyes flickered up. Much to my dismay, it was the muscular agent rather than the tall, lanky agent who seemed a lot friendlier to you, given the circumstances.

He took the seat across from you and spoke firmly, “I am ready to take your confession whenever you are.”

At this point, you were just getting frustrated. You were ripped from your bed in the middle of the night given no explanation other than you had supposedly killed three men and he had the audacity to ask for your confession to something no one would even tell you the details of. So against your better judgment, you opened your mouth which has been known to get you in trouble from time to time.

“Well, considering no one has even told me what I am formally being accused of or the details, I can’t do that. Do you even have any evidence to keep me here? Oh wait...you don’t...that’s why you need a confession because all your evidence so far has been circumstantial. Only too bad for you...I know my rights. So, you have forty-eight hours to find some real evidence against me, that doesn’t exist if I may add, before you have to let me go.”

The agent looked back at the glass with his jaw dropped.

“I watch a lot of crime TV shows,” you huffed and crossed your arms.

“Okay this may be harder than we originally planned, folks. We are going to need everyone on call for the next forty-eight hours until we find some incriminating evidence,” Hotch spoke.

The agents began to depart from the room to review old case files and dig deeper into your personal history. Spencer stayed back for a few minutes and saw tears start to roll down your face when you thought no one was still watching you. You quickly wiped them away and wringed your fingers together. Spencer didn’t know if he should or not yet but he felt bad for you.

Chapter 2

The door opened again but this time, you just kept your eyes down at the table so the person could not see your watery eyes.

You have been trying to put up a brave face but every time, a different agent comes in to question you about your routine, friends, family, and personal life, you just feel exposed.

Traces of your DNA had been found on the bodies and they had all visited your bookstore but that wasn’t enough to convict you I guess. You didn’t know the victims personally but you still felt bad for them.

A cup of coffee was placed gently into your line of sight. You wrapped your hands around the warm paper cup and mumbled your thanks.

“I didn’t know how you liked it. I can add more creamer or sugar if you like,” the voice spoke.

You glanced up tentatively and it was the tall, lanky agent. Your lips turned up ever so slightly into a small smile but it was the most you could manage at the moment. You took a sip.

“No it’s fine, thank you. It really helps. I appreciate it,” you said.

“I’m Spencer, by the way”

“Y/N, but you probably already know that by now.”

He chuckled at your joke. Silence filled the room once again.

“I didn’t do it, Spencer...and I know I can’t really prove that but I wish I could. Most of my friends live in another state and so does my family so I don’t go out too often. I don’t have a boyfriend. I own a bookstore so I spend most of my time there. I don’t really know why this is happening to me,” you started to get choked up again so you stopped talking.

Spencer involuntarily blushed when you stated you didn’t have a boyfriend.

He really needed to get it together as much as he wanted to believe you.

You could be a murderer for all he knows...but a really pretty murderer with a great taste in literature and probably even a bigger collection of books than him.

Stop it, Spencer, get your head in the game. He smiled softly once more at you cradling your drink and exited the room.

The forty-eight hours were up. They had nothing solid against you. If anything, the team had less of a case against you.

The bodies were all dumped on the opposite side of town from where you lived but it was clear they had been transported there. Garcia’s digging showed you had no car and you weren’t lying when you said most of your friends and family live out of state so the chances of you borrowing someone else's car were unlikely.

Credit card receipts showed you hardly ever went to that side of town and they had profiled the unsub would know the area well.

The victims did come into your store a few times but they also visited all the shops on that street occasionally as well. It didn’t make sense for you to kill your customers. That would just be bad for business and easily linked back to you.

The team agreed that they believed Y/N was no longer a suspect.

An officer drove you back to your apartment where luckily, your door had been fixed.

You ordered takeout and took a shower to hopefully rid yourself of the stress of the past two days. Shortly after your dinner, you fell asleep hoping your door would not be busted down again by the FBI.

A few days had past and you were opening up the store for the morning. You were in the back organizing the nonfiction section when you heard the soft bell chime of the door opening.

You walked to the front expecting to greet one of your regulars. Once you saw who was standing shyly at the front desk, you stopped in your tracks.

“Spencer?”

“Uh h-hi-hello Y/N. How are you?”

“Good...unless you are here to bring me back in for more questioning”, you said half-joking half-seriously.

“Oh! Um no, you’re all set. I am truly sorry about that. But I do have a question for you”, he was nervously wringing his hands just like you do, looking anywhere but your eyes.

“It’s okay kind of sounds like the wrong thing to say because I would preferably not be dragged out of my bed in the middle of the night and then held for forty-hours but I understand, you were simply doing your job. Anyways, ask away,” you replied.

His eyes finally made contact with yours and he opened his mouth like he was about to say something but completely lost his confidence.

“Do you...um do you...do you have a nonfiction section?” Spencer blurted out.

You didn’t understand how the nonfiction section could make someone so nervous. He looked as if he was going to say something else but thought better of it.

“Of course! I was just organizing it! Right this way!” you chirped with a smile that seemed to untense his shoulders just a little bit.

Spencer perused the section a bit before deciding on a hefty book about the different plants and flowers native to the East Coast. When he made his way up to the front desk to check out, you praised his choice.

“Aw! I love reading about plants. I have some many succulents in my apartment. It's honestly more of a jungle. Have you ever seen forget-me-nots? So lovely!”

Spencer smiled and nodded, knowing if he tried to speak it would be gibberish because he could not focus on anything when he was looking at your radiant smile.

“Did you do it?”, Morgan asked as Spencer entered the bullpen with a brown bag.

“No but now I have a book on plants and flowers. I actually am excited to read it. Did you know that some plants like orchids do not require soil to grow they get their nutrients from-”

“You chickened out”, Derek sighed.

“She is so pretty! She was just standing there in all her radiance smiling at me and I couldn’t take the rejection. We dragged her out of her bed and put her in handcuffs only to find out two days later, she is innocent. I can hardly believe she is still being nice to me despite it.”

“Well believe it or not, the first night I met a girl, she was in handcuffs in her bed with me so it’s not always a bad thing,” Morgan smirked.

“Not appropriate, Morgan,” Spencer scolded.

“What are we talking about? I don’t like to not be included in the gossip!” Garcia ran over in her pink heels with Prentiss right behind her.

“Pretty Ricky here went to visit Y/N at her bookstore but then chickened out about asking her on a date,” Morgan informed them.

“Awwwww! I like her! She’s so pretty! Plus, I have already done a background search on her and she is squeaky clean now that we have proven she isn’t a murderer,” Garcia excitedly rambled.

Prentiss was nodding her head in agreement, grinning at Spencer.

Spencer had already chugged his morning cup of coffee during this conversation just to have an excuse to go get another cup and leave this conversation.

“You can’t run away from your feelings, Boy Wonder!” Garcia shouted.

Chapters 3-25

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #cm fanfic #reid x reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds

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watermelonlipstick · 3 years

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Dreams, Chapter 5

If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:

When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.

GET. READY. This is a bigger chunk but I really think it’s worth it.

Title: Dreams, Chapter 5

Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 5343

Summary: Dean’s birthday proves easier than expected in some ways and harder in others.

Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, alcohol, s l o w b u r n

Sam pulled back from you, opening one eye drowsily. “Are you okay?” he says, voice gritty with sleep.

“Yeah, I…he didn’t die,” you breathed, confused.

He cleared his throat. “What?”

“He always dies. He fell off of Bobby’s roof, but he just broke his ankle, he, he didn’t die.”

Sam rubbed his face with his free arm, trying to wake up more in earnest. It was still dark, so it couldn’t have been later than 7:30. You hadn’t been asleep for more than a few hours but suddenly felt beyond alert. “That’s good, right?”

“I—yeah, it’s good. Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

The reflex was to say no, usher Sam back to sleep. But your reflexes had already been wrong once today. “Can we?”

The way Sam kept the surprise off his face was admirable. It was the first time you’d agreed to talk about the nightmares that plagued you since losing Dean. He propped himself up on his elbows and flicked on the small lamp beside the bed. “What happened?”

You told Sam all about the dream, sparing only the details you couldn’t really remember or only made dream-sense, like the way you knew it was 4th of July weekend without having been told. He listened thoughtfully, the focus obvious in his expression. He waited a long beat when you were done, sure not to step on your moment of vulnerability.

“What do you think it means?” he asked gently.

You thunked back onto your pillow to gaze up at the popcorn ceiling. “I don’t care, to be honest.” The almost-dark made fuzzy static pulse in your vision. “I think I’m going to write about it, actually,” you said, and startled yourself.

“Oh, uh, okay,” Sam said encouragingly. “Do you want me to—” he asked, pointing a thumb over his shoulder.

“No, no. I’ll be back in a little bit, see if you can go back to sleep.”

Sam nodded with more than a little concern and you climbed over him, yanking an old sweatshirt out to throw over your wilted tee and scampering off to the kitchen table.

The house was ice cold and dark aside from the ever-present Christmas lights and you could feel the needles that had begun to drop from the tree under your bare feet, rapidly cooling on the cheap flooring. You picked up the notebook and pens Sam had gotten you and sat down at the kitchen counter to write.

In the days that followed, the constant and varied nightmares of Dean’s deaths returned. When you woke up, more and more often making it to the morning, you kept writing to Dean about them and sometimes your day as a way of processing. You never ‘told him’ about exactly what happened and tried to focus on the sweet things you remembered that made the worst dreams a tease, moving them to your daytime memory and trying to wash away the despair the nightmares left you clawing through.

By the middle of January, you and Sam had fallen mostly back into old patterns. The Christmas lights were still up, a sort of night light against the long Midwestern nights, and you couldn’t help feeling a small sense of despair sweeping up loose pine needles when Sam was in the shower every day. You didn’t want the winter to end, as weird as that sounded with the ice and chill and fingertips that never warmed all the way. It felt like if you moved into spring that you were leaving the time-out that you’d created and would have to figure out a longer-term solution than this rented cabin, all thin drywall and poorly insulated ceilings. Even your jobs didn’t feel permanent, the summer vacationers sure to come back and reclaim their spots in the town as it came back to life with the plants.

The ‘mostly’ was that the boundary you broke with Sam never truly came uncrossed. When you were washing dishes he would come stand behind you, the heat of his lips seeping into the shoulder of your old sweatshirts. You’d intertwine your fingers with his while he drove, realizing only when you went to open the car door and found yourself tangled, or running your hands through his hair while he read next to you on the sofa. You never met Sam’s eyes in these moments—somehow it felt like a secret, private thing that would collapse into dust if gazed upon, some sweet, small creature you were protecting. Neither one of you talked about it in the time since that tequila-soaked night.

As much as you’d needed to be close to him before, you began craving Sam in a way that scared you. You’d always found him beautiful in the way you admire someone you love, but you caught yourself taking notice of the pillars of muscles along his back when he broke down stock boxes and the dark swoop of his eyelashes. The comments about how lucky you were to have him that used to make you nervous your cover was about to be blown started to make you ache a little with fear and something you couldn’t place. You felt a bizarre flick of jealousy when some twenty somethings drinking White Claw dragged their eyes over him at the bar before leaving on their snowmobiles, like he really was yours to claim. It seemed like a manifestation of your fierce attachment and unresolved grief not only for Dean but your old life with the Winchesters, when they sort of were: your teammates and no one else’s. You resolved it had to be and explained it away without inspection, even when these ‘isolated’ moments became less and less isolated.

Before you knew it, you were hurtling toward Dean’s birthday.

“What should we do on Sunday?” you asked early on a Thursday afternoon, trying to keep your voice light and easy while you and Sam got ready for your last day of work for the week.

“I don’t, uh, I don’t know.”

“Did you guys ever do anything when you were little?”

“I mean, not really. Sometimes like a cake or whatever I guess, but Dean was always better at that stuff. By the time we were in our 20s, he only wanted to go meet girls and play up the ‘kiss for the birthday boy’ schtick.” Sam grinned sheepishly as though you didn’t know who Dean had been.

You couldn’t help but smile, remembering the cocksure half-boy you’d met all those years ago. “Okay, well, if you didn’t have anything in mind, I have a couple ideas.”

“Oh, yeah, I had only really come up with a cherry pie and a bottle of whiskey.”

You stood up from the kitchen table and grabbed Sam’s empty plate, leaning into his drying hair for long enough to inhale the minty earthiness of his shampoo. “I mean, that’s a given.”

In Sunday’s late morning you slipped out of the house while Sam was in the shower, leaving a note behind that said you’d be back in a few minutes. You careened down the road to the quaint main street, running through the list in your head. The grocery store was first for the only bottle of scotch they kept in a tiny plastic container and the fixings for bacon cheeseburgers, then the coffee shop had a cherry pie that looked better to you than whatever pseudo-Entemann’s they had in the limited grocery bakery section. The hardware store had everything else you needed and some extras; you praised the cold climate necessity of having multiple places in town to get gloves and thick woolen socks as you threw a couple on the checkout with the rest of the haul. It was awkward to get everything in the trunk, and you were thankful in this moment that you weren’t trying to drive the little sedan you’d had years ago when it was just you, even as annoying as it was to park the Impala sometimes.

Back at the cabin Sam was solemnly cleaning up, his eyes red as he wrung out a mop. You took the pie and whiskey out of the bag and put the other groceries away without removing your coat. In truth you only took off the boots you were wearing as a concession to Sam’s mopping, feeling itchy to get back outside and let the complexity of your emotions explode into fresh air unencumbered.

You tossed a pair of new woolen socks to Sam, who caught them against his chest. “You’re going to want these.”

“What? Where are we going?”

“Somewhere I think Dean would’ve liked. Put on some layers, too.”

Sam obeyed with a crooked eyebrow, coming out of the bedroom a few minutes later looking like a lumberjack catalogue model. You didn’t say anything when you realized the hoodie he was wearing used to be his brother’s.

“Ready?”

“I’m not sure, I don’t know where we’re going,” Sam answered honestly.

You gestured toward the door and he followed you out to the car. Thankfully it had snowed that morning, and tiny billows of powdery snowflakes blew up around each car that you passed on the way.

The hill was massive. It was a little surprising considering the flatness of the majority of the Midwest, and you’d had to remind yourself that there were some small skiing outfits in the upper half of the state when you’d found it, sure that it was a garbage dump that had been covered lazily in grass seed and left to its own devices. Less impressive surrounding slopes reassured you when you’d scoped it out a few days earlier, and the fresh glittering snow made it look even more spectacular now than you’d remembered. You decided not to push it taking the Impala onto the snow, instead parking at the dead-end you thought was closest.

“We’re here?” Sam asked, obviously still confused.

“Yep. Come on,” you said, enjoying the surprise more than you’d thought you would.

Popping the trunk made it obvious when the bright plastic sleds were wedged in alongside the miscellaneous weapons whose permanent home it was. You watched Sam’s face as recognition dawned, closely followed by a smirk you knew was in large part to humor you. Yanking them out in one big pull, you handed Sam the green one and one of the pair of gloves you’d gotten that morning.

“These are huge, where did you even find them?” he chuckled, popping the plastic tie between the gloves and sliding his hands into them.

“You’re huge, it’s not like I can put you on a kid’s one. Besides they must be pretty serious about their sledding up here, these were just from the hardware store.”

Sam shook his head and waited for you to put your gloves on. They were comically big on you, but you knew you’d regret not wearing any and tried your best to grip the sides of the plastic sled through them as you took off toward the hill. After a few steps, Sam took the sled from you without a word, able to hold it easily with both his well-fitting gloves and the many extra inches between his arms and the ground.

The walk up the hill was somewhat of a trudge but the way the crisp air sliced through your lungs was a welcome distraction. Snow dampened the ambient noise so all you could hear was Sam’s rhythmic breathing like a mantra, and with one foot in front of the other, by the time you got to the top you felt like you’d been meditating. The view was amazing from the top, a painting or old illustration with its tiny homes and cottages over meandering fields, the snow washing everything out as if you were watching someone else’s dream.

“Should we race?” Sam asked, the swirled pigment of his irises lit up by the reflection off the snow.

The next thing you heard was Sam’s laugh behind you as you took a few big strides and jumped onto the sled. Careening down the hill, your hair snapped around, tiny whips cracking into your wind-tenderized cheeks as you tried in vain to steer the sled in slices across the straight pass. Sam’s cackle was distant but comforting over your shoulder. You closed your eyes to feel the speed underneath you and the wind across your face; listen to that laugh that you’d heard so little recently, an old favorite song to be put on repeat. On January 24th of all days it felt like you were being baptized in the clear crystal sound of it.

When you came to a stop, Sam was only a half second behind you. You fell over in a fit of giggles listening to him play-whine about cheating and “Totally not fair, after I carry your sled all the way up for you!”

“I’ll beat you again with no head start! Unless you’re chicken,” you taunted, brushing snow off your legs to start back up the hill again. Sam scrambled to his feet, passing you up quickly with his huge strides as you started to run after him. Gasping with laughter and exertion, you and Sam half-wrestled and chased each other to the top, collapsing to your backs like snow angels. After catching your breath, you propped yourself up on your elbows to look over at him.

“Rematch?”

Sam’s smile, all straight pearl teeth and cold-flushed cheeks, was as breathtaking as the icy wind as you tore down the run, this time on your stomach with your head low like a bullet, trying in earnest to win again. The front lip of the sled in your fingertips rumbled against little imperfections in the snow. You glanced to check how much of a lead you had on Sam and had barely turned your head before you realized you were also dipping your shoulder, tilting the sled on its greased-lightning path and therefore you with it. Sam was right on your tail and narrowly missed crushing you when you fell off the sled by bailing out of his, your legs tangling together with misplaced velocity. You tried to hold still so you wouldn’t catch his face with a flailing limb, only moving after a beat when it seemed like the collision was over. Sam’s fall seemed to have been more graceful than yours, as he still had a hand on his sled and only a left arm and hair full of snow that he shook loose like a puppy.

“Are you okay?” he said, getting to his knees to reach out to you.

You could feel the scrape on your cheek before you got up, but Sam’s wince was only minor when he saw it which was reassuring. He snatched off his glove and brushed snow off your face gently, barely grazing the broken skin. The warmth felt so nice and you would’ve curled up in his palm like Thumbelina if you could. “What’s the damage?” you asked, trying to think about the way your breath puffed up in clouds around you rather than the snowflakes caught in Sam’s eyelashes.

He was analytical as he took it in, tilting your head carefully in the light. “Doesn’t look too bad. Does it hurt?”

“Nah. Did you think I’d get soft that fast? I used to get stabbed like once a month.”

Sam chuckled. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Do you want to go home?”

It didn’t feel as odd as it should’ve, knowing exactly what home meant in this context. “And let you think I only won by cheating? Fat chance!”

“You don’t even have a sled anymore!”

You glanced around you and saw your sled sitting smugly an easy 30 yards past the base of the hill. “Gimme a ride?”

It was a little awkward until Sam sat down on the sled with each heel straddled and digging into the snow, allowing you to crawl between his legs without unintentionally sliding down the rest of the slope. He seemed unsure of himself as he wrapped his arms around your torso, and you hooked your hands around each of his legs to do your part to hang onto him. “Ready?” he asked, his breath warm on your neck.

When you nodded, he unstuck his heels and you shot like a racehorse down the hill. Sam’s chest was solid as a rock behind you, cushioned with his layers and fastened with his seatbelt arms. You could feel the muscles in his legs moving against your hands, trying to balance the weight of the two of you on the flimsy material. Despite your fall only moments ago, it was safe in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time. The ride came to a stop only a few steps away from your cast off sled.

You turned into Sam to get to your knees before standing up and slipped on a wet patch on the plastic, the melted snow turning the surface impossibly slick. It made you fall forward into Sam, his seated position not giving him enough stability to stay on balance—the sled shifted back underneath the both of you and brushed your lips across his as you ended up with your scraped cheek against the rough canvas of his jacket.

“I—oh my god I’m sorry,” you stammered, springing back gracelessly.

Sam looked somewhat like a little kid or a doll, sitting wide eyed with his legs still spread out around you. You stayed back on your knees feeling like you should move slowly, that maybe you could back away unscathed yet. Sam reached his hands out and you thought it was okay, he understood you wouldn’t cross yet another line with him, that it was a simple mistake and he was going to move past it or ask for your help up, and then his heavily gloved hand slid into your hair and he was leaning toward you, the breath that had felt so comforting on the back of your neck as you flew down the hill now on your bottom lip. Your needle-sharp inhale drew that air from him, and you started to feel dizzy. He waited for a moment, searching between your eyes for you to pull back, to turn it into a joke, but you couldn’t. Something in the light pressure of his hand was an anchor and you found yourself glancing at Sam’s lips and slowly, agonizingly, Sam closed the distance between you.

His lips were so soft and gentle that it made you feel like you were going to cry and then you were crying, just one hot salty tear that stung the fresh abrasion on your cheek as you moved against him, this foreign and scary part of the person you knew the best on this earth. Somehow kissing Sam was exactly how you would’ve guessed it would be—tender and sweet and reverent. The sound dampening of the snow amplified your other senses: the feeling of the cheap Gore-Tex catching one or two hairs as Sam supported your weight, the small brush of Sam’s breath through his nose, the tight flick of the wind against your coats. It was over as quickly as it started, leaving you and Sam staring at each other bewildered while your hair tangled around you.

You could feel that your eyes were as wide as Sam’s. Completely unable to formulate a thought or feeling, much less something to say, you silently extricated yourself from the sled. Sam did too, staring at it like it was some complicated spell, even turning away from you as you crossed over to your own store-bought chariot. You could read his tension even in his back, the tight stretch of his shoulders as he clutched at the scruff of his neck, and just wanted to make it better.

“Okay, rematch for real this time? I would say I won’t fall again but, no promises.”

Sam looked scared when he turned back to you, his voice gruff when he choked out a halfhearted, “yeah, sure” and followed you up the hill. He was far enough behind you that you couldn’t hear his breathing anymore and it took him a little bit to reach you at the peak. His body seemed like it was cracking around him, aging in moments as he shakily got into his sled beside yours. You wanted so badly to tell him it’s okay, it’s just some dumb mistake, we were just goofing off but you knew it wasn’t true and you didn’t want to lie.

The only thing you could fix your mouth to say was, “Count us down so you can’t say I’m cheating again,” and hope he heard the apology and forgiveness in it.

Sam obeyed dutifully and you kicked off down the hill, trying to use the speed you gathered and the clarity in the way it split open your lungs to try to understand what had just happened. The same trip that had felt like glorious ages before was over in a second and you were up out of your sled before you remembered you were supposed to be measuring whether you or Sam had gotten down faster.

“Tie, we’re going again!” you yelled over your shoulder as you did your best to bound through the deep snow up the side of the hill, not waiting to see if he was following you.

Once again at the top, ragged and out of breath and only a few steps ahead of him, you took a second to collect yourself before putting your sled back in the snow and holding it in place with one foot.

“I’m sor—” Sam started before you cut him off.

“Okay, third time’s the charm!” you said with panicked cheerfulness that you knew instantly was too much, but Sam stopped talking and dejectedly sat on his sled next to you.

You and Sam spent probably an hour more sledding, your legs turning to jello underneath you as you ran up the hill over and over again and your cheeks getting more and more wind chapped, before Sam finally smiled, exasperated at some joke about still beating him up the hill with legs that were half as long. It was all the fuel you needed to keep chipping away at him until the sun started dropping and the chill broke through all your layers.

The two of you plodded through the snow back to the car together. Gloves and sleds in the trunk, you flopped into the passenger seat with that sudden too-hot feeling of getting out of the wind and tore at your coat to desperately strip some layers. Sam threw his own jacket in the back. Without giving him a chance to protest or hook up his phone, you turned on the tape deck and Pink Floyd’s Wish You Were Here pounded out like rocky silk.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you murmured. You looked over at Sam, who burst into a kind of frantic laughter that you completely understood. You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing either, because of course this was playing during the tense peace on Dean’s birthday in Dean’s car, and then you and Sam were cry-laughing in the rapidly humidifying air of the Impala while Syd Barrett waxed poetic. By the time the second chunks of Shine On You Crazy Diamond started, you were gasping for air and clutching at your sides.

You drove home after that in relative silence, the fatigue of fresh air and running all afternoon catching up with you. Sam took a shower while you put together burgers, switching spots with you to cook them while you washed up. They were pretty good due in large part to how seriously Wisconsinites take their cheese, bacon, and beef, and you wolfed yours long before your hair had stopped dripping onto the collar of the threadbare sweatshirt you’d changed into.

The first shot of scotch burned like it always did, offsetting the sweet tang of the cherry pie and reminding you of the way Dean used to taste when you kissed him at the end of a long night. You looked out the window at the last purple glow of the sunset as it turned the evening into deep, endless inky blue.

“I’ve gotta—I’m so sorry,” Sam spat out like the words were beating their way out of his mouth.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” you murmured, unable to immediately meet his gaze and looking down at your pie.

“I just—I can’t—I don’t know what the fuck is going on,” he stammered.

You couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity of the whole thing. “Join the club.”

Sam smirked but it was mirthless. “No, I know, but it’s just…I don’t know. I’m sorry.” He stabbed a deflated cherry with pursed lips, and you watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. The fork clattered to his plate. “It’s not getting any easier. Every day I wake up and I’m so mad. It’s so fucking unfair that I have to stay here without him because I know that’s what he fucking wanted, and I feel like there’s no point in trying to have anything like good or normal because I’m just running out the clock. And then today’s Dean’s fucking birthday and I kiss his girlfriend—what is wrong with me?”

The outburst hung in the air, a toxic smoke that excluded everything else. You slammed the rest of your glass of scotch, relishing the way it scalded. “So I’m just Dean’s girlfriend?”

“No, that’s not what I—I mean I guess—it’s not like you aren’t—I don’t know, it just seems like you’ll always be his girlfriend.”

“Are you still Jess’s boyfriend?”

It was the absolute most cruel and wrong thing to say and you regretted the words as soon as they left your tongue and crashed into Sam, not even really knowing why you’d thought them. They distorted his face in incredulity and betrayal but you didn’t back down, maintaining eye contact until he snatched the bottle and refilled both glasses. When he spoke again his voice was gravelly and broken.

“I guess I deserved that.”

“Sam, this is fucking weird. It always has been, us being alive without Dean, and if you’re just now getting that then you’re not as smart as I thought you were. I don’t—I don’t really know what’s going on either, but I know that you’re the only thing that’s keeping me from ending up with a bullet in my skull or in a locked ward, so if you’re waiting for me to forgive you for something, for anything you’ve ever said or done, it’s already forgiven. But we’re too tied up together for every tiny redrawing of the boundaries to send us over the edge. Please.”

“Tiny redrawing of boundaries? I kissed you!”

“And I kissed you back, Sam! What do you want to do about it? What’s the absolution here? If you want to leave, I’m not going to stop you. Take the Impala and I’ll find some other car, I’ll borrow the Kaisers’ other one or something. Or maybe you want me to go and I’ll go; I’ll do anything you want me to. I’ll leave right now, you never have to see me again if that’s what you want but I know Dean loved you and loved me and I don’t think he would’ve wanted you to torture yourself all the time so what is it that you want?”

“I want us to be fucking normal and I don’t want to feel like I’m cheating with my brother’s girlfriend! I don’t want to have a cover story and I don’t want to keep running away!”

“Then fucking stop! Stop feeling guilty and talk to me about this stuff!”

Sam laughed, hard and bitter and choked off.

“I’m serious. We can’t keep doing this shit, at least I can’t. We need to start talking—about Dean, about everything. It’s like this lump of decay and we’re just spraying Febreze and not dealing with it.”

Sam’s mouth popped open as he tongued his molars. He bit his lip in frustration before crumpling up his napkin and threw it on top of his half-eaten pie. “Okay. Let’s talk.”

You weren’t expecting that. For all the ways it had seemed like Dean had been the more emotionally closed off, he was always much easier for you to read than Sam, who managed somehow to talk about things without actually communicating how he felt. It was good if you needed to be supported but made it extremely hard to be there for him. Refilling your glasses a bit more conservatively, you offered up an open palm to let Sam go first. His jaw tensed and he swallowed hard.

“No bullshit?” he asked.

“No bullshit. What’s the point of bullshitting anymore? After everything?”

Continue to Dreams, Chapter 6

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

Tags: @sams-sass @anxiousbarnes @deanwinchesterswitch @akshi8278 @itsjensenanddean @flannellover67 @weepingwillowphoenix @tj-drinks-tea @whatareyousearchingfordean @winchestergirl2 @winchest09 @samwisethegr8 @fawnxng @nurse-sarahrn @lovers-in-japan-reign-of-love @deanwanddamons @stressedoutkitten @winchestershiresauce @tatted-trina6 @percico-heronstairs @downanddirtydean @queenoftheunderdark @lyarr24 @waywardwifey @thinkinghardhardlythinking @wonder-cole @sergeantsea peachyafshawn

And as always, if you want to be on my taglist, were on the taglist and changed your handle, or I lost track of it, please let me know!

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cobaltusami · 3 years

Note

May I request some naegiri, with lee!makoto, cause we all know that Makoto is babey

Hi! Yes, Absolutely! I love Naegiri, and lee!Makoto Is super adorable! ^^ Makoto Is sweet sunshine child who must be protected.

I had fun writing this! for some reason my mind immediately jumped to Angst/Comfort for the topic.

I’m also sorry If this isn’t long enough, This Is the shortest fic I’ve written...

This takes place either right after the school went Into lockdown before the killing game started or in the middle of a non despair AU, It’s open for interpretation :)

Hope you enjoy!

Words: 1395

Characters: Lee!Makoto, Ler!Kyoko

SPOILER WARNINGS FOR THE FIRST GAME AHEAD

Weight of the world

“Good morning.” Kyoko greeted her classmates as she entered the dining hall, met with greetings in return she scanned the room, she noticed It was more quiet than usual this morning. Her purple eyes fell on an empty chair, one that was usually occupied by…

“Where’s Makoto?” She asked.

“He said he wasn’t feeling well.” Sayaka answered, hand In front of her mouth as she spoke. She swallowed her food and set her fork down. “He said something about a headache.”

Hmm… That’s not like him. He doesn’t ever skip breakfast.

Kyoko lingered for a moment longer before wordlessly going to the kitchen and preparing a plate of food for Makoto, Grabbing a bottle of water on her way out. “I’m going to go check on him.” She said over her shoulder as she made her way to his room.

She pressed her elbow against his doorbell and waited patiently.

Inside the room, Makoto groaned and pulled himself out of bed. “Just a minute.” He called to whoever was standing at his door.

After realizing he was still In his pajamas, He quickly pulled on some jeans and a t-shirt before shuffling over and opening the door. “K-Kyoko?”

“May I come In?” She asked politely. He nodded and stepped aside so she could.

She set the plate down on his table and turned to him. “I wasn’t expecting you to get dressed, You must be feeling a little better.”

Makoto’s cheeks flushed. “Uh, Not really. I just thought you might appreciate It if I answered the door wearing pants.”

Kyoko smiled a bit to herself In amusement. “I know that Sayaka said your stomach was hurting, But I brought you some breakfast. I think you should try to eat some of It.”

She purposely threw out the incorrect ailment, trying to trip him up.

Makoto, Being a terrible liar, forgot what he told Sayaka to get rid of her this morning. So he just nodded and went along with it.

“Makoto. What’s really wrong?” She asked, Stepping closer to her boyfriend. “You can tell me.”

“W-What do you mean? I just--”

“You told Sayaka you had a headache, And then just agreed to telling her you had a stomach ache.”

Makoto bit his lip and looked away, knowing better than to lie any further to the Ultimate Detective. “Alright. I’m sorry for lying to you, But I just didn’t feel like eating and I didn’t want everyone to make a big deal out of it.”

Kyoko put her gloved hands on his shoulders and guided him over to the bed where they sat down. “What’s bothering you?” She asked, setting her hands in her lap.

“I don’t… It’s just…” The brunette looked away from her warm gaze, biting his now trembling lip. “I feel… Hopeless.”

His eyes filled with tears as the feelings he’d previously pushed aside came festering back. “I’m supposed to be the Ultimate Hope, But I feel so…”

“So full of Despair.” She whispered.

He nodded, blinking away the tears.

“It’s hard being locked up here, I know. I can’t imagine the weight on your shoulders, You feel like you always have to uplift everyone and give them Hope. Even when you yourself don’t feel Hopeful.” Kyoko started, prompting tears to spill down his cheeks. “You feel alone, Isolated. You might even be angry to an extent that no one can see past that to your pain.”

She took his trembling hands in hers and stared Into his eyes as if searching the contents of his very soul. “But you aren’t alone, I’m here. And I see your pain. Your feelings are valid.”

Makoto wrapped his arms around his girlfriend and cried into her shoulder.

Kyoko ran her hands over his back in a comforting manner, not saying anything else so he had some time to process his feelings.

After a few minutes he calmed down and pulled back, wiping the tears away from his face. “S-Sorry about that…” He meekly apologized.

She offered a small smile in response. “It’s okay. Do you feel any better?”

“Yeah. I’m feeling better now.” He mustered up a smile and went to stand up but was pulled back down.

“No you aren’t.” She saw through his lie yet again. “I don’t like being lied to, Naegi.”

She spoke In a stern voice, However there was an unnerving edge to her words. Something that resembled playfulness.

Something that resembled ‘Makoto’s in trouble and about to get wrecked.’

“I-I’m sorry Kyoko! I didn’t even realize I was doing It!” Makoto panicked, His words flooding out like a waterfall. A very panicky waterfall.

Kyoko pushed him down and straddled his legs to stop him from getting up and running away. “I think you need to be taught what happens when you lie to a Kirigiri.” She smirked, shoving his shirt up.

“W-Wait! Can’t we talk about this-- Pfft n-no! Kyohohohokohoho!” He dissolved into a fit of giggles as he felt her gloved fingers scribbling all around his sides.

She smiled, The air In the room felt ten times lighter now that he was laughing. “Sorry, But no. We’re done talking for now. Now you get to laugh and think about how unwise It is to lie to me.”

“I’m sorryehehehe!” He giggled, writhing underneath her. He didn’t try to stop her though, subconsciously he must have realized he needed this attention right now.

“It’s too late for sorry, Makoto.” She teased, fluttering her fingers across his stomach. “Does this tickle?”

Makoto squealed and arched his back, which only pressed her fingers further into his ticklish stomach. “KYOHOHOHO!”

“Yes, Makoto?” She asked innocently.

“IHIHIHIT TIHIHICKLES!” He whined, covering his quickly reddening face.

“Does It?” She smiled in amusement. “I had no Idea.”

The smooth texture of her gloves tickled like hell, and she was well aware of this. Kyoko wasn’t even tickling that fast or hard but Makoto was damn near In hysterics, Especially when she suddenly dipped down and blew a raspberry on his belly.

The Ultimate Hope screamed, Unable to form words as he laughed his heart out. After the third raspberry, He began pushing at Kyoko’s head In an attempt to escape. “KYOOHOHOHOHO! PLEHEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAP!”

“Hmm. How can I be sure you really want me to stop?” She asked coyly, Dipping a finger into his belly button. “You keep lying to me, So for all I know… You want me to keep going.”

Makoto girlishly squealed and tried to suck in his stomach. “I’M SOHOHOHOHORRY FOR LYING TO YOUHUHUHU!”

“I don’t know, That could be another lie…” She smirked, Wiggling her finger faster. “Are you really sure?”

“YEHEHEHES! I’M SOHOHOHOHO SORRY!” Makoto cackled, Tears slipping down his cheeks for a second time today, Though this time It was for a happier reason. “PLEHEHEHEASE! I CAHAHAHAN’T!”

Kyoko pulled her hands back and climbed off of her giggling and panting boyfriend, coming to rest right next to him. “Are you feeling any better now?” She asked, turning over onto her side to look at him.

Makoto nodded slowly as he wiped his tears away with the heels of his hands and pushed his shirt back down. “Yeah… Thank you, Kyo.” He turned his head to look at her for a moment before leaning closer and planting a soft kiss against her lips.

“You’re welcome. Just remember, You may have a lot of weight on your shoulders, But you don’t have to carry It alone.“ She smiled, her cheeks tinting a pale pink. “Now come on! Let’s go get some breakfast.”

Kyoko got out of bed only for Makoto wrap his arms around her waist and pull her back down into the bed with him. “Can’t we just stay here for a while? I’m kind of tired…”

She giggled as he nuzzled into her neck and closed his eyes, gently she pushed him back. “No. I’m hungry, And you haven’t eaten either.”

“You can have the plate of food you brought me.” He offered.

“Nice try. It’s cold by now. Come on, Get up. Everyone Is probably wondering where I am.”

She had to practically drag him behind her, but at least he had some life back In him.

While things may still be super tense and stressful for Makoto, It comforted him to know that he wasn’t alone, And didn’t have to shoulder all of this responsibility alone.

#Danganronpa tickle #naegiri #lee!Makoto #Ler!Kyoko #dr1 tickle #THH Tickle #Poor Makoto #such a sweet child #Good thing his mean girlfriend was there to cheer him up #I love these two so much #Naegiri is one of my favorite ships #thinking he could get away with lying to the Ultimate Detective #The nerve #i forgot to add a tag #whoops #tickle story #ignore the fact that it's not where It should be #don't make it feel bad about itself it's already awkward enough #hashtag awkward tag rights

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hatake-no-sharingan · 4 years

Text

Time travel AU (Part 1: The lady with the flowers)

AU Summary: The world is falling apart, and the Sage of the Six Paths sends Naruto back in time to find his parents and collect the thing that will help him and Sasuke save the shinobi.

Part 1 Summary: Naruto arrives in the Konoha he was born and finds Y/N struggling to keep her plants alive. He's drawn to helping her, and later discovers she’s exactly the person he was looking for.

Characters in part 1: Y/N (as Naruto’s mom/ Minato’s wife), Minato and Naruto

Warnings: None

A/N: Thank you @itsao-mine for requesting this, and I’m so sorry to keep you waiting, I hope the full story is worth it. I’m thinking it’ll be like 2 or 3 parts long. I had to change a bit your request, but I still hope you like it. Remember my ask box is always open! Keep requesting stuff and being kind<3

The lady with the flowers

“Could you try not dying for once?” Y/N pleaded to what could’ve been a jasmine plant, had she actually known how to properly do gardening. She wiped her brow tired, and accidentally smeared a bit of dirt on her forehead.

It was a peaceful autumn afternoon, Konoha hadn’t looked as pretty in a long time. The war had taken a lot from the village, but it had been slowly repairing itself. Now villagers strolled down the streets again chattering about the nice weather, new businesses opened, children ran everywhere, and finally shinobi had gotten a much deserved break.

A sunset colored house stood small in the middle of Konoha, where Y/N fought, on the losing side, to keep her plants alive.

“Maaa, how am I going to take care of a child if I can’t even grow a flower?” She complained to herself as she started clearing the mess she had made between the dirt, fallen leaves and plant food.

“You should maybe try feeding them less. Yaknow? Overfeeding plants is actually a thing, and it could kill them. And I just saw a nice spot over here where you could try moving them, they’ll get more sunshine at the right times of the day. They’re getting the strongest light for a short amount of time and it’s killing them. It’s better to have them exposed longer but where the heat isn’t as strong. Yaknow?”

Y/N looked up to see a smiling blond boy, scratching the back of his head and examining the front part of her house.

“Right there, you see?” He pointed to a small corner.

“Will that stop them from dying?” Y/N asked excited.

“Yes! I’m not an expert, but I kinda know my way around plants. I’ll help you move them.”

She stood up and as she turned towards the boy, he saw she was heavily pregnant. It was only a matter of days before she gave birth. Her skin was glowing in the same way roses glisten when they’re covered in morning dew.

“Oh you might want to sit down while I move them. Don’t worry.” He said embarrassed at the realization. She needed his help more than he’d initially thought. He was glad he’d bumped into her, though he had to hurry because he was still on time constraint and the world depended on it.

Y/N sat down thankful on the entrance steps while the boy skillfully arranged the plants.

“Well that was the last one, hopefully they’ll live now” he announced

“Thank you. It’s a bit frustrating, I’m used to doing things by myself, and it’s weird that in this state I need more help than I would admit to. Heheh. It was very nice of you to do it.”

“Well, I’m glad I was here, but I have to get going because I’m on an important mission here, lady, and there are some people I need to find.”

“Wait a second, you’re hurt.” Y/N said, noticing for the first time that the boy was bleeding badly from several cuts across his body, his clothes were torn and ripped, revealing multiple bruises and he had a bit of a limp on his left ankle. “Come inside, let me at least disinfect your wounds and put some bandages on you.

“Naaah, It’s fine, I’ve seen worse.” He said trying to act cool, stretching his arms over his head. Which y/n noticed was obviously a painful motion.

“Nonesense, I bet you can spare a few moments. I’m a Kunoichi myself, and I know you’ll be able to complete your mission more effectively with some pain out of your way. Come on, I’ll fix you something to eat too.”

The last part caught the blond kid’s attention, and he hastily agreed. Surely the end of the world could give him a few minutes right? Plus the sage of the six paths had sent him a week before the incident, so he’d have enough time to look for them, and the lady was right, he was good at handling pain, but he’d be way more effective if at least some of it was reduced, giving his body time to heal.

The house’s interior matched the warmth that emanated from the exterior. It was homely, colorful, and cozy, exactly the kind of house he’d always dreamed of growing up in.

Y/N led him to the kitchen, where an amazing smell told him something good was cooking.

“You’re making ramen?! It’s my favorite meal!”

“Well, I’m trying to” she giggled kindly “It’s not as good as Ichiraku’s but my husband likes it.”

He was pleasantly surprised that his favorite food place already existed when he was born, but he didn’t remark on it. Instead he told her how excited he was to try her cooking.

“Sit here. Let me just get the first aid kit and I’ll be back in a few seconds.”

She returned holding a few bandages, some medicine and a pair of scissors. The boy let himself be treated. Her touch was gentle, and it had a hint of worry, almost as if she was scared something would hurt the kid, but she was very effective with her movements. The boy found himself wishing his mom would be as kind as the young woman in front of him, and knew that the baby she was carrying was going to be a lucky one for having her as a mother.

“Are you having a boy or a girl?” He asked, breaking the silence. “Have you picked a name?”

“I’m having a boy! Isn’t that sweet? My husband picked the name. It’s a bit odd but I love it!” She flashed him a big smile, clearly proud “his name will be Naruto.”

“You’re naming your kid Naruto? No way! I’m Naruto too! I thought I was the only Naruto in Konoha! It’s amazing to find out that someone else wants to name their child like me. Did you also pick the name because of Ero-Sennin’s novel? Are you also a fan of his writing? Oh. Oh. We’re in the past, right maybe you even know my parents. Oh right! I’m supposed to be looking for them. Could you help me? Their names are Minato Namikaze and Y/N Uzumaki. My dad’s the hokage, you surely know who he is right?”

Y/N dropped the medicine bottle she was holding. She stared at the person in front of her as if he were a ghost. He looked about 16-17 years old, it was impossible he was here.

“W-what?” She managed to ask

In that moment, the front door opened and

“Baby I’m home! How are my two sweet angels? You won’t imagine the day I just had, I’m so glad I could finally return to you-“ Minato stopped when he entered the kitchen and saw Naruto in there with his wife. “Oh, hi, I didn’t realize we had a visit. I’m Minato, Y/N’s husband. Are you staying for dinner?” He turned to Y/N, but was met with her shocked expression.

“Is something wrong my love?”

Naruto spoke then.

“Well, I guess I’ve accidentally completed the first part of my mission. I’m sorry for saying this out of the blue but, I’m your son.”

PART TWO HERE

#naruto #naruto fic #naruto imagines #minato #minato namikaze #minato headcanons #minato fluff #minato imagines #minato x reader #minato x y/n #hatakenosharingan

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mggpleasedontlookhere · 4 years

Text

reid’s anatomy pt. 2

summary: after seeing spencer in the OR, you have no other choice but to wait and see if he makes it or not

word count: 1,827 reading time: 7 mins

masterlist

Pt. 1

My spine had succumbed to the soreness that had spread throughout my lower body as me and Morgan sat almost lifelessly together on cold hospital floors.

If Spencer was present at the moment, he would ramble about the billion strains of bacteria and viruses incomprehensible by the naked eye, at which our skin would be exposed to. But he wasn’t here, he’s laying placid under OR lights that were just as bright as Time Square’s streets at night and a scalpel just as sharp as the sushi chef in the japanese cuisine he took me out for our 2 year anniversary.

Morgan still continued to stroke my head, our tear ducts running dry as the minutes passed us. I sat up from his shoulder, facing him for the first time since he came to check up on me.

“What happened out there?” I asked disdainfully. It was evident in my tone that I held some sort of animosity, possibly blame towards the team for not protecting Spencer. But deep down I knew that no matter how many cautionary provisions they’ve taken, you can never dodge the inevitable.

He flinched at the presence on my voice, not anticipating that I would be so prominent in speaking. He shifted to face the ceiling, sighing as he dragged his hand over the bridge of his nose.

“I-i can’t even to begin to explain Y/N. I-i’m so sorry” He repented, his eyes beginning to water again. I prolonged my examination of him, egging him to continue his narrative.

He now bowed his head, laying them on his hands that were supported by his knees. “We were with the unsub right” He painted out the scenario, I nodded while following along with his recollection of the events. “We were in the middle of a standoff. We had about 3 additional agents with us and the police force, but me and Reid were hanging back behind the unsub, in case he had tried to escape...” He paused in the midst of his sentence, taking in a breath as he began to choke on a few words.

“It was supposed to be me” He confessed, earning a look of perplexity from me. “The unsub had a kid in hostage, and the kid got in the middle of me and the unsub. So naturally I went to take the kid away, but I made the stupid mistake of dropping my gun. Obviously, the unsub heard and turned around to shoot me and the kid since we were both defenseless. But...Reid, he-. He shoved both me and the kid, taking the shot himself”.

The words that came from Morgan’s lips were incoherent by the time he finished. He looked over to me, his eyes exhibiting a great deal of grief before searching my own for a response or clemency.

In contrast to the circumstances that were placed before us, a forced chuckle lunged out from my throat, acquiring Morgan’s attention. A morbid smile planted on my lips as I thought about Spencer.

“He would’ve been such a good father. Don’t you think?” I asked using the same tone from earlier. Morgan agreed apprehensively, sorrow still evident by the way his body responded to mine.

“He deserves children. Doesn’t he, Derek?”

“Y/N- I don’t understa-”

“Then he should be able to have them” I snapped, slamming my fist against the wall behind me. Morgan reached a comforting hand out, but I swatted his hand away. I gave him a crazed look, running my hand through my hair. “H-he should have a family, he deserves a future...Morgan, he should be...alive. That’s how it’s supposed to be” I choked out, word vomit spilling from my mouth as my thoughts swirled around my head at a thousand miles an hour, any sense of rationality I had depleting.

“Y/N- I-”

Soft sobs racked my entire body and defeated whimpers had crawled up my esophagus. I rocked myself back and forth, burying my head into my arms until all I saw was the artificial darkness I placed myself in. It was almost a cocoon that composed of me and my thoughts, regardless if Morgan was next to me.

My own heartbeat was ringing in my ears, drowning out any other noise around me, including Morgan. That wasn’t until I heard scurried footsteps, metal hitting metal, and the attending inside the OR yelling brutal commands at the staff.

It suddenly came clear to me when Morgans hand gripped mine and all that could be heard from the OR was, “his BP is down, he’s going into V-fib, we’re losing him”. At that moment, my heart stopped and my vision dwindled, I was too tired to react. Pain resurfaced as my mind grew dizzy, next followed the sensation in my arms, legs, and back. Finally, my consciousness inevitably followed in its footsteps as it withered away to the sound of the doctors frantically shifting around to save Spencer’s life.

Light began to be apparent again, my vision gradually retaining it’s efficiency as I noticed I was placed on a hospital chair. I rubbed my eyes, sitting up in the seat that I was slumped down on, scratching my head while my eyes examined the environment.

The first thing that had caught my attention was that I wasn’t in the hallway anymore, but in a post-op room. My eyes felt heavy from all the crying I’ve done previously and my forehead grew hot from the stress I’ve undergone.

The sound of voices pricked my ears, and in curiosity, I stood up to investigate. Getting closer to the noise, I noticed my legs were tender and that I had a great difficulty at maneuvering around.

How long was I out?

I finally got to my destination and was met with a privacy curtain that ran from the ceiling to the floor. I heard a multitude of voices that rang from the other side of the curtain.

Uneasiness set in my bones, not wanting to get my hopes up. I slowly pushed the fabric aside, letting my presence be known, and let me tell you, it was the best decision I’ve made.

To my fortune, there stood the attending that was operating on Spencer with the rest of the crew that surrounded a single bed. On that hospital bed laid the love of my live.

Spencer was the first one I locked eyes with, he was in the middle of speaking with his colleagues when we did, which halted his speech. In recognition of Spencer’s pause, all eyes were then relocated to me. Although I didn’t reciprocate anyone else’s glances, except Spencer.

“C-can we have a moment of privacy please?” Spencer requested, looking at his doctor for approval.

The attending nodded in agreement, shifting his focus to me and gave me a hopeful smile. The same smile I would give to my patients after a successful surgery. Everyone filed out after the doctor one by one, leaving Morgan to be the last one out.

As he exited the room, I stopped him by the shoulder and silently thanked him. He returned the gesture with a large smile, nudging me towards Spence. When the room was finally empty, I inched towards spencer with the brightest smile I can wear. His eyes shone nothing but love as he continued to gawk at me venturing towards him.

When I finally got to his side, he greeted me with an amiable ‘hello’ like it was the first time we met. He reached out for my hand, placing it on his chest for comfort and giving it an affectionate kiss.

I, then, proceeded to lovingly whack him upside the head in return, earning a playful wince from him.

“I swear to god Spencer Reid, if you ever, and I mean EVER, put me through anything like that again, I will personally go into the OR and cut your LVAD wire and kill you myself, bec-”

“Y/N, honey, I’m here no-”

“DON’T. Don’t you dare tell me to calm down Spence because I will have to be restrained and placed in a mental hospital when I lose my license for kicking the IQ out of you” I finished, heaving as I gathered my composure.

Spencer looked at me amused, gripping my hand in his and hauling me closer to the side of his bed. “Y/N Y/L/N, I’m sorry for putting you through everything you went through” He looked up at me with sincere eyes, melting all the disdain that swelled in my heart.

I sighed, leaning down to lay my head on his chest, in which he gave me permission to hop into his bed. I pulled him in closer, terrified that he might vanish from my grasp into thin air. “Spencer, I love you so much” I sniffled, muffling my words into his chest. “You have no idea Spence, I-i felt so lost and hopeless. I-i couldn’t do anything to save you, they-they wouldn’t let me” I sobbed, my throat tightening up as the words spilled actively from my lips.

Spencer quieted me down, stroking my hair as I spoke. “I don’t know where I’d be without you Spence”. I looked up at the man who held me, my heart beating in delight, in contrast to the emotion my face was probably expressing.

He leaned in pressing a long lasting kiss on my lips, then he proceeded to reciprocate the same gesture on my forehead. “You’re my absolute everything Y/N’ He sighed. “Before I- before everything became a blur, all I could think of was you. All I could think of was that I took out one less person that can harm you. I love you so much Y/N”.

A comforting silence followed after, creating an environment of serendipity. I toyed with the hospital gown that covered his body, thinking of all the events that had occured before, thanking the heavens for the outcome that was given to me and praying for the future.

“I want a baby” I professed without warning, feeling Spencer tense up in surprise.

“W-what did you say Y/N?”

“I want a baby, I want to start a family with you” I continued, adjusting my position to get a good look at his reaction. “I want to have a baby now” I declared, determination dripping from my confession.

Spencer chuckled, gesturing to the IV and the tubes that were wired into him. “I would be glad to Y/N, but I’m kind of a human experiment as this moment” He joked.

We both chuckled in glee, holding each other tight as we basked in the pleasant scene. “But I would love to have little Y/N’s and Spencers running around, especially with the one I’d want nothing more than to spend my lifetime with” He pulled me into another kiss, peering deeply into my eyes before shutting his own to get some rest.

“I love you so much, Y/N Y/L/N” He whispered through his breath.

“I love you more than you know, Spencer Reid”

A/N:

That’s a wrap, you know I was going to end this short story with Spencer dying, but I thought about how evil that was. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it and don’t be afraid to put in any requests :)

taglist: @l0ve-0f-my-life @spideyreid @evelyn-4034

#spencer reid imagines #spencerreid #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid icons #spencer x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler imagines

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yuuri-nsane · 3 years

Text

Last in Stock

Fandom: Yuuri On Ice

Ship: Viktuuri [Viktor Nikiforov x Katsuki Yuuri]

T/W: nothing, apart from swears, mild dirty jokes and recurring mentions of nudity? BAHAH IM SORRY I PROMISE THERES NOTHING GRAPHIC THO TOTALLY SFW

Summary: Yuuri Katsuki wanted nothing more than to spoil his lovely poodle, Vicchan, and if that meant playing a game of Truth or Dare in a broken elevator to attain the likes of a beautifully pink chew toy, he was game.

[Inspired by a little rough imagine I posted a while ago]

a/n: honestly dont even ask me how this happened, happy holidays!! i wish you all a very merry chrysler, and if you dont celebrate, a very happy december!

oh and dont forget, constructive criticism is always welcome! dont hesitate to tell me what you think of my work, and also! please please ple e a a s e tell me if you see any spelling mistake or grammatical errors! THANK YOUUU!

also please note that this will be posted to my ao3 account: @yuuri_nsane

---

This was not how he'd planned his Wednesday evening, two days before Christmas, to go. No, not at all.

He thinks back to the start of the day, wondering how exactly he'd wound up sitting in a broken elevator, positioned in between the third and fourth floor, having just ended a dastardly game of Truth or Dare with quite an attractive man.

Said attractive man was not only attractive, but also very, very naked, save for the pair of patterned purple socks still clad on his feet. He also had the entirety of the Russian National Anthem scrawled on his left leg, as well as a black eye and terribly painted nails: a bright hot pink that shrieked against impossibly pale skin. Not to mention the taunting pastel dog toy he was now cuddling with.

Yeah, no. Yuuri was stuck in a predicament - one far too mortifying yet amusing for his own comprehension.

How in the ever-loving fuck had this happened?

---

Katsuki Yuuri was a good person.

He loved his mom, fed his dog, never showed up late to work.

He was good at recycling - always remembering to separate the cardboard tube and plastic lid of the Pringles' can he'd eat out of during a late night binge.

He watered his plants religiously, and no, it didn't matter that one out of the four of them were fake. He loved all his plants equally, thank you very much.

He held the door open for people no matter how far away or close they were, and even when they did that awkward little jog, he made sure to give them a warm smile.

He cleaned after himself, not at all tolerating any bits of scrap paper or crumbs left as residue from a busy night of studying and stress eating, no matter how tired he was.

He even cleaned up after other people! Like, for example, when his roommate and best friend, Phichit Chulanont, had eaten too much takeout and could barely move - Yuuri had offered to clean up for him. Phichit, with somewhat of a moral compass thanks to Yuuri, had protested at first; Yuuri had replied with a gentle 'tsk' and a 'go get some rest, you can make it up to me by doing the dishes tomorrow and the day after that'.

And so, to conclude, Katsuki Yuuri was a good person.

So why, why exactly was he here, in the middle of a bustling mall at 2pm, so close to being trampled on in the midst of hectic shopping, staring down an unfairly good-looking stranger, both their hands having met in the middle - the middle being a cutesy dog toy, the last one in stock.

Yuuri had naively left his Christmas shopping till the very last minute, much like everyone else present in the store. He hadn’t intended to buy Vicchan another toy, Lord knows he had plenty more at home and that Yuuri’s bank account was suffering because of it. But it was Christmas, and if anything, his dog deserved the world.

One more as a little festive gift wouldn't hurt, and it certainly brought Yuuri a step closer to giving Vicchan ‘the world’.

And so, he needed this.

And he was not going to give up that easily, despite the fact that the universe decided to make his life just a little bit harder, since the opposition made Yuuri slightly more weaker in the knees than he'd like to admit.

He winced in the bright white lights of the shop, the Christmas music blaring and irritating, no longer as heart-warming as Yuuri had found it when he first entered. The excessive Christmas decorations made him cringe - it was as if one of Santa’s elves had puked all over the place.

"Why," the other man began, his voice oozing with honey, with charming remnants of an accent. His soothing verbal confrontation had caught Yuuri’s undivided attention. His hand was inching closer to the catalyst of this hassling event and Yuuri barely fought the urge to slap it away (or hold it tenderly), "I believe I saw this first."

Oh, heck no.

Yuuri scooted closer and desperately tried to ignore the blooming heat on his cheeks, "Actually, I think I did."

This did nothing to deter to the other man, who with his height, easily stood over Yuuri and glared ever so passive aggressively.

"Well, okay then! Since we can’t decide who gets the damn toy, why don't we settle this like men?"

The black haired male stared frozen in shock. He was not looking for a fight, no matter how eager he was to spoil his little poodle with all the gifts he warranted and more.

"Uh, I don't- um, I'm not looking for trouble!" Yuuri ranted swiftly, slowly pulling his hand away from the dog toy.

So close, yet so far.

It wasn't like he couldn't fend for himself, God knows he was stronger than most people with the avid workouts he did to prepare for dancing recitals.

(And let me tell you, Yuuri has never skipped leg day. Ever.)

But at the same time, he knew it would be less than ideal if the young man spent his Christmas holiday sporting a black eye or something similar.

In response to his quick exclamation, the silver haired male beside Yuuri also retracted his hand, a look of bafflement evident on his chiselled features.

"I-You..." he started, looking at Yuuri far too intensely than the other male was admittedly comfortable with.

A few seconds later, he burst out into laughter, his nose scrunching and eyes crinkling. He tilted his head back, arms grasping his middle.

He gasped for air, dramatically wiping a tear away, "You thought - you thought I wanted to fight for it! Like in some sort of - cliché romance where the two love interests fight for the main character's hand in marriage! Or something!" He babbled on, leaving Yuuri flustered and awfully ready to make a run for it.

In his fit of embarrassment, he raised voice, "Well, what the hell did you mean by 'settling this like men'! Of course I thought you wanted to get physical!"

Yuuri regretted the words almost as soon as they left his mouth.

"Physical? Well, I'll have you know I have a bit more class than that. I'd take you out on a date first, if anything."

The shorter male sputtered angrily, his blush not at all dying down, but instead doing the opposite. He glared at the other man, cursing his stupid pretty face and his stupid pretty voice.

And much to his luck, the blue-eyed villain pursued his words, snickering, “Not to mention here of all places! Quite the voyeur, are we?”

Yuuri was a Good Person™ - what the hell had he done to deserve this!

The taller male must've noticed Yuuri's increasing discomfort, and his teasing came to halt. He inclined his head in the direction of the damned chew toy and reiterated, "What I really meant was we could buy the toy and decide outside who gets to take it - like civilised human beings. You rest your case, I rest mine! Sound good?"

Yuuri pondered, before slowly nodding his head. It wsn’t like he had anything better to do, and he really wanted this dog toy. If only he knew the events that would follow soon after, he might’ve have ran fast and far before giving a real answer.

Fortunately, it seemed that both of them were just about finished with their shopping, the dog toy being last in each other's spontaneous list.

The light haired man took this as inclination to pluck the dog toy off the shelf, giving Yuuri a confirming look, and leading them both to the checkout.

They squeezed their way through the crowds; meandering, lifeless beings that swayed from aisle to aisle. Once they made it there, they payed for their own items separately, before splitting the money for the toy.

Afterwards, they made way to the elevator just two shops down, both agreeing to settle their dispute in the parking lot. They were on the top floor of the shopping centre, after all. Yuuri figured that the both of them would be more comfortable if they weren't surrounded by other people, who could very fairly judge them when arguing about the baby pink dog toy. Said baby pink dog toy had somehow found its way into Yuuri's grasp. If he wasn't such a good person maybe he'd have run away by now, pastel chew toy in hand. But damn it, he was, so he swallowed down the urge.

They stepped into the elevator, the shiny silver doors sliding apart before meeting in the centre. A sickening array of tinsel was hung to the upper corners, along with a few baubles hanging from them. Yuuri noticed the red ribbon twined in with the tinsel, and wanted to grimace at its tackiness.

The young dancer then turned to his companion, now realising how dangerous this situation actually was. Without thinking he blurted, "You're not a serial killer, are you?"

The other man raised an eyebrow. "Well no, but I wouldn't put it past myself to become one for the sake of that toy." He waved nonchalantly at Yuuri's hand, the chew toy dripping from his fingers.

Yuuri instinctively took a step back.

"Oh my God, I'm kidding!" The man chuckled, turning away and watching the numbers at the top of the elevator decrease gradually.

"So, uh, what do we do now?"

To this, the male looked back at Yuuri, and replied simply, "I come up with a sob story to convince you to give me the toy!"

Yuuri pursed his lips, unimpressed. He was tired but by God, was he so not above from entertaining the notion. "Okay, then. Go ahead. After you tell me yours, I'll tell you mine."

He was met with a smirk, a smirk far too devious for Yuuri's liking. Before the other man could attempt to pull at Yuuri’s heart strings, however, the room jarred and the two men in the elevator were sent tumbling to the ground.

"What just happened."

It came out more like a statement than a question, a robotic string of words that spewed from Yuuri's lips involuntarily.

"I think...I think the elevator just...broke down."

They stared at each other for a moment, and the next words came flying about - who said them exactly left a mystery.

"Oh, fuck."

---

They spent the first five minutes panicking, calling for help in such an inglorious manner that Yuuri was sure they'd both lose their voices. They spent the next few moments afterwards checking their phones, and resentfully realising that somehow, there was no reception. And that, of course, since the universe seemed to love good ol' Yuuri, that his phone was at a sad two percent.

His company's was no better, where his phone was at a fifteen, to which the taller man responded with a sheepish, 'I forgot to charge it last night too.'

They realised then that they had no choice but to wait until help miraculously found its way to them, and so they indulged in the waiting game.

The next hour or so consisted of the two bantering back and forth, 'sob stories' passed around like old folk's tales. They bickered and still, their argument over the dog toy was left unsettled, and Yuuri had to admit, it was kind of fun.

Time had whizzed past, and soon enough it was already 4:37pm. The other man spoke up suddenly, sat opposite Yuuri on the cold, hard ground of the elevator. His skin was painted in the gold of the old light that flickered above them, his blue eyes sparkling impressively. Yuuri wanted to look away, yet simultaneously couldn't find it in him to.

"I just realised that I don't know your name. And you don't know mine! Chances are, we'll be spending all night together," he wiggled his eyebrows. Yuuri choked in response, the other male continuing, "so let me introduce myself! Viktor Nikiforov!" He held out his arm out, humbly awaiting.

Yuuri clasped it gently, mumbling a near silent, "Yuuri Katsuki."

Viktor reacted with an all too cheery, "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Yuuri!"

They held hands for almost a second too long, until Yuuri forced himself to pull away.

The two men once again decided to engage in such chatter, bordering small talk. They joked and teased, each finding out more and more about the other.

Yuuri now knew that Viktor Nikiforov was four years older than he was, a good twenty-six, and had a lovely little poodle he called Makkachin, or Makka for short. (He guessed that she was the reason for Viktor's desperate need for the dog toy.) He was Russian, and moved to the states just a few weeks before his nineteenth birthday. His favourite food was Borscht, a beef stew mixed with all sorts of vegetables, and that he almost burnt his kitchen down once upon a time trying to make it. And, to Yuuri's surprise, Viktor was a choreographer for all sorts of dances, his specialty being ballet and contemporary.

In response to this sudden spout of information, Yuuri had offered his own age and his dog's name and breed. He also told Viktor that his parents were from Japan, but moved to Detroit to start a hot springs. He explained too, that his favourite food was Katsudon, a pork cutlet rice bowl, and that his mother made the best of them.

Yuuri even mentioned his own career in dancing, to which Viktor had reacted to with an animated widening of his eyes and a contemplative 'really?'.

He also swears that Viktor had checked him out soon afterwards, but maybe that was just his mind playing tricks on him.

Soon enough, boredom got the best of the two, having spent the last three hours doing nothing but lounge around. Their phones were now completely out of battery (no, Yuuri didn't spend the last two percent playing Candy Crush-); they were hungry and unentertained, and it didn't take long for Viktor to begin whining.

Immediately, he shot up, forcing Yuuri into a frightened jolt.

"Sorry, sorry - I was just thinking, since I'm bored and you're bored, we should play Truth or Dare!"

Yuuri stared, "Really? Your first thought was child's play?"

"Aw, please! Yuuri, don't be like that! I'm literally dying of boredom-"

"Stop being so dramatic, Viktor."

Viktor ignored him, "-and you know what! We could settle this," he gestured rapidly to the dog toy, where it lay in between them, holy and seemingly unattainable.

Yuuri had never been more stupid to have asked, "What do you mean?"

"Well, we play Truth or Dare, and whoever forfeits first means that the other gets the toy! And bragging rights!"

He crawled over to Yuuri, too close for comfort, and drawled, "Pretty please?"

Yuuri, feeling scandalised and suddenly like a hormonal prepubescent teen, pressed himself up against the wall, looked away and squeaked a feeble, "Okay, fine!"

He felt regret seep into his soul for the umpteenth time that day.

---

He sighed.

Yuuri Katsuki was a good person.

He was a good person and he knew so much.

And so he wondered again, quite bitterly, why and how the planets had aligned in such a way to quite literally fuck him over in this elevator, where the most handsome man he'd ever seen was now lying in front of him, naked and quite the hot mess - a result of playing Truth or Dare.

Viktor, being the proud little shit he was, had chosen nothing but Dare - whether to egg Yuuri on or likewise.

Yuuri had wasted the pink nail polish he'd just bought for his sister Mari in response: his first dare being a cheap jab at the man's dignity. Though, it did little to do so, as Viktor painted his nails happily, albeit messily, and wore his paint job loud and proud.

After that, he had dared the man to write the Russian National Anthem on his leg with a black sharpie, one he’d conveniently carried around in his coat’s breast pocket. Viktor had done so entirely without complaint, going as far as to showcase his leg in a fucking split.

The dares that followed were mild, if not slightly concerning - Yuuri having dared Viktor to lick the floor, to pluck the hanging tinsel from the corners of the elevator and stuff it in his mouth, to try and do a handstand, to stand on one foot for two minutes and so on.

Watching Viktor, physical perfection on legs, trying to stuff a wad of sparking red tinsel down his throat was more amusing than Yuuri cared to say, and it came to show that the taller man was just as human as he was, despite his uncanny appearance to that of a greek god.

Although Yuri didn't even want to recall how Viktor had ended up wearing nothing but his socks, and even the nasty black eye now splotching across his fair skin.

He was more than happy to block that out from his memory.

Because of this, he’d stuck religiously to choosing Truth, not at all willing to risk whatever was left of his self-respect, in fear that Viktor would take no pity on him and get his revenge.

In fact, the worst question Viktor had asked him was,

"What's your biggest turn on?"

And Yuuri, being the sad, and easily embarrassed person that he was, had panicked and briskly declared, "Katsu...don?", his confidence soon blinking out like a candle flame halfway through saying so - it was evident in his statement all but becoming a gratifying question.

It was 6:29pm, and Yuuri's sure that help was on its way - for he could hear the bustling of what he assumed to be mall security outside the elevator. He wondered briefly, how worrying it would be for the two men to step out the elevator, one untouched, and the other looking as though they'd flushed themselves down the toilet. Repeatedly.

Yuuri kept his gaze away from Viktor and his...glory. He scowls, remembering how Viktor won the dog toy fair and square: Yuuri having refused to carry on playing after Viktor's little strip tease. Or whatever the hell it was.

He sighs another sad sigh, shaking his head and wishing for oblivion.

---

It was 7:01pm, when the elevator doors were finally opened. Yuuri and Viktor were helped up, blankets wrapped securely around the both of them - specifically Viktor, for obvious reasons.

Security were nothing short of polite but it was safe to say that when they managed to open the elevator doors, the last thing they were expecting was a 5'9" Russian man to come stumbling out, naked and, oh yes, naked.

They were ushered to a nearby bench on the fourth floor, surrounded by nearby onlookers who were whispering amongst themselves. The mall security had asked them politely to wait by, probably to offer some sort of compensation, Yuuri expected.

They sat in silence: hungry and tired - most definitely ready to go home, after a lovely evening spent stuck in the elevator for roughly five hours.

Viktor clutched at the dog toy and his blanket - his clothes and plastic shopping bag resting rumpled on his lap. Yuuri kept his head ducked down, listening pathetically to Mariah Carey and her silky singing echoing in the mall.

All I want for Christmas, Yuuri pondered spitefully: beyond mortified by the near nude man beside him and his demeaning loss when playing Truth or Dare, is to dig my own grave!

Suddenly, Viktor spoke up besides Yuuri.

"I was thinking-"

"No! Viktor, when you think, it ends badly!" Yuuri exclaimed, turning to point at Viktor's general being and the chew toy that he held loosely, "that was traumatic."

"It's nothing bad! Or at least I don't think it is..." Viktor helpfully supplied.

Wait, was as he, blushing?

"...What is it then?"

"Do you, uh...thinkthatVicchanwouldliketohaveaplaydatewithMakka?"

"Huh?"

Viktor coughed, bringing his hand up to the back of his neck. His blanket fell from his shoulders and rested at his waist. Yuuri kept his gaze from trailing down, and could've sworn he was going to have a heart attack.

"I just...uhm, do you want to, maybe, uh...organise a play date for our dogs, or something?"

Yuuri straightened up immediately.

"You, you don't have to say yes! I'm sorry! I-I get that you're probably really busy, since Christmas is in like, two days, and you might have better things to do than go out with me - I mean, go out with my dog, wait, no! I mean-" Viktor rambled on, his face getting redder by the minute.

Yuuri, being the good, merciful, and apparently brave that person he is, disregarded all rational thought and leaned in to kiss Viktor on his cheek; a sweet press of his lips to soft skin that made the dark haired male tingle all over.

He pulled away, noting the relentless flush that started from Viktor's hairline, all the way down to his toned chest. And along with that, the older man's abrupt silence. He stared quizzically at Yuuri, reaching to touch the cheek that had been kissed.

"I'd love for our dogs to have a play date. But on one condition," Yuuri teased, a devilish grin making its way into his face, "you take me on that date, okay, Viktor Nikiforov? We can't afford to forget about class, now can we?"

He was bombarded with a humiliated shriek: a high-pitched squeal that left Viktor's lips, which stringed along like music to the younger man's ears, and a promise for a date - both for his dog and himself.

This was not how he'd planned his Wednesday evening, two days before Christmas, to go. No, not at all.

But he certainly wasn't complaining. Anymore, at least.

---

BONUS:

“I’ll see you later, Viktor! Um, merry Christmas! Oh, yeah and Monday, alright, Vicchan and I will see you then! Call me!” Yuuri all but whispered hastily, carrying his shopping and Viktor’s heart away with him to the other side of the parking lot.

Luckily, their cars were in the same district, and the Russian watched dreamily as Yuuri made his way to his car, and he himself got into his. He giggled bashfully, glad he forgot to go Christmas shopping last week.

What were the chances that he’d have ended up spending five hours with such an attractive and certainly interesting man, in the small confines of a horribly decorated elevator?

He smiled softly, making one last assessment of his things. His watch, shoes, shirt, pants - it was all here! Along with his shopping bag, Yuuri’s number and-

Wait.

Where...

Where was the dog toy?

Viktor didn’t enough time to fully wrap his head around the disappearance of the chew toy, before he heard maniacal laughter, and a dark blue Volkswagen blurring past. The car’s windows were rolled down, an insulting pastel pink lolling out slightly.

“Finders, keepers!”

A mortified gasp.

“Yuuri!”

Fin

---

Taglist:

@maximoffzinha @the-immortal-thylacine @holaboiiiiis

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buoyantsaturn · 4 years

Text

So Come On, Talk it Out (your voice brought me back from the dead) (1/1)

summary: A relaxing date between Nico and Will the spring before Tower of Nero.

word count: 2616

read on ao3

The air was finally warming up late that spring. The snow had all melted a few weeks back, but it had still been too cold to stay outside for more than an hour or two. It definitely hadn’t been warm enough for a pseudo-picnic under the shade of a tree, but now it finally was. And it would probably be their only chance to do so before summer rolled in and brought a hundred kids back to camp.

Nico had kicked off his shoes and socks before laying his head down in Will’s lap as the son of Apollo sat upright against the trunk of the tree. Nico planted his feet firmly in the grass, and Will cringed at the sight.

“You’re just going to stick your feet in the grass like that?” he asked.

Nico shrugged as best he could in his current position. “Yeah, so what? It makes me feel more...grounded, more connected to everything.”

Will snorted. “Yeah, connected to feeling like you’ve got bugs crawling over your feet.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

Will poked him in the forehead. “You don’t make sense.” Nico snatched Will’s hand away and brought it toward his mouth, biting down gently on the side of Will’s hand before Will could rip it away. “Hey! I thought we agreed on a nice, relaxing date! Relaxing does not include biting.”

Nico reached up and squished the tip of Will’s nose down with a single finger. “No, you agreed on a relaxing date. I already took you on one last week.”

Will scoffed, and swatted at Nico’s hand. “Almost dropping me in a vat of Cheez Whiz in Venezuela is not relaxing! And I ran out of KitKats, so you couldn’t even get your energy up enough to bring us back here!”

A smile started to creep its way onto Nico’s face, and he started to brush his fingers across Will’s cheek. “I still can’t believe you committed a crime for me.”

“Well, what was I supposed to do?” Will demanded, waving his arms frantically. “They wouldn’t accept my drachmas and didn’t speak English, and you--! You couldn’t even open your eyes long enough to see where we were! What was I supposed to do, not steal a few KitKats?”

Nico’s smile was full blown as he gazed up at Will with hearts in his eyes. “So you agree: best date ever, and I win.”

Will started to laugh - a little bit in shock that Nico would even think that, but also finding it hard not to crack up at the absurdity of their conversation. What other fifteen year old had ever stolen KitKats from some shop in Venezuela to restore his significant other’s magic powers so that they could teleport back home? He almost sounded crazy!

“No,” Will told him, still laughing. “Not the best date ever! And definitely not relaxing! I wanted to, like, sit together like this, and maybe share some snacks and play twenty questions. Not run from cops in Venezuela.”

Nico’s nose scrunched up - something Will had recently learned his did when he was confused - and Will wanted to kiss the wrinkles away. “Why would we play twenty questions?”

“To get to know each other. Duh.”

Nico tipped his head back and met Will’s eyes, frowning slightly. “Do we...not already know each other?”

“Well, we do,” Will replied, his head tipping to the side, “but not everything. I don’t even know your middle name.”

“Yeah, so? I don’t know yours either.”

Will grinned. “And that’s why we play! Tell me your middle name.”

Nico rolled his eyes, but answered, “Vincenzo.”

Will hummed. “Nico Vincenzo di Angelo… I know you’re Italian, Death Boy, but that’s a lot of o’s.”

Nico pursed his lips and turned his head away, gazing out toward the lake. After a moment, he said, “Actually it’s… Niccolo Vincenzo di Angelo.”

“Your name is Niccolo? That’s so cute!” Will repeated the name to himself a few times in his head, and then gasped. “Like piccolo! Oh my gods, Nico, can I call you piccolo?”

Nico leveled him with a glare so strong that it could’ve made flowers wilt on the spot, but Will didn’t so much as flinch. “Absolutely not.”

Will lifted a hand and started to brush his fingers through Nico’s hair. He leaned into the touch, despite how angry he was pretending to be. “Okay, so only in private, then.”

“No! Never!”

Will simply continued to smile down at him, carding his fingers through Nico’s hair and gently releasing tangles in the curls. He wondered if Nico’s hair would curl up even more if it was shorter, but they’d both gotten fond of the length. “It’s your turn to ask,” Will reminded him softly after a few short moments of silence.

Nico crossed his arms with a huff, and looked away again - though only with his eyes this time, as though not to dislodge Will’s hand from his head. “Same question.”

Will hesitated. “Can you call me piccolo?”

At least Will’s brief moment of stupidity brought a smile back to Nico’s face. “No, your middle name.”

“Oh! It’s Andrew. William Andrew Solace.”

Nico repeated the name, whispering it to himself, and Will felt his heart skip a beat at the sound. Then, Nico’s hand searched out Will’s - the one that wasn’t twirling curls around his fingers - and laced their fingers together. He met Will’s eyes as he said, “William Andrew Solace, I want you to know that if you ever betray me, I will use your full name to embarrass you as payback.”

Will’s smile only brightened. “Why would I ever betray you?”

Nico shrugged again. “You might not even realize it when it happens. I’m not talking about any big stakes. I mean, like… Like if Sherman’s on the lava course, and you don’t tell me so I can avenge my loss against him. That’s a betrayal.”

“You really are kind of a sore loser, huh.”

“I am not!”

Will nodded. “Uh huh. Okay, Piccolo.”

Nico ripped his hand out of Will’s and used it to smack at his arm. “Shut up!”

With his hand now free, Will was able to reach into the backpack he’d brought with him, and pulled out a clementine. He took away his other hand, causing Nico to sigh in disappointment, though Will didn’t tease him for it. If the sudden blush on his face was anything to go by, then Nico hadn’t intended to make a sound at all. Will laid one arm across Nico’s chest, the other held over Nico’s head as he reached around him to peel the clementine.

“Where was the first place you shadow traveled to?” Will asked.

Nico paused to think, one of his hands coming up almost subconsciously to curl his fingers around Will’s arm. “Uh, China, I think? I don’t really remember. I kinda...jumped, and then immediately passed out. I think Minos said I was out for, like, three days, and then I just jumped back.”

“You went all the way to China? And you didn’t bring any KitKats?”

Nico pinched his arm. “We just learned about the KitKat thing a month ago, Will. Whatever. Um, did you have any pets before you came to camp?”

Will grinned at the change of subject. “I did! I had a golden retriever, and her name was Sandy.” He dropped the clementine peel into the grass and broke the fruit into pieces. He took one small piece and held it out for Nico.

“No thanks,” Nico told him.

“You haven’t eaten since yesterday,” Will reminded him.

“I went without eating for a week when I was in that jar.”

“Yeah, and I wish you would stop reminding me of that, because it just makes me want to feed you even more. So, open up!”

Nico rolled his eyes, but allowed his mouth to drop open so that Will could feed him the slice of clementine. Nico’s face scrunched up as he chewed. “It’s kinda sour.”

Will ate his own slice, and shrugged. “Not really. You just haven’t eaten a fruit in over a year and forgot what it’s supposed to taste like.”

“Uh, pomegranates are fruit, and I--”

“Ate those in the jar, I know,” Will cut in, “but you were in a trance and probably didn’t even taste them, so that doesn’t count.”

Nico huffed. “Whatever.” Still, he opened his mouth when Will placed another slice of clementine at his lips.

“Have you ever thought about getting a tattoo?” Will asked.

Nico shook his head, gently rolling it back and forth over Will’s thigh. “Nah, I’ve been stabbed with a knife before and that wasn’t great, so I don’t think I need to get stabbed with a thousand tiny needles. Why, have you?”

Will frowned. “Okay, we’re going to circle back to that later, but yes, I have.”

“What were you thinking of getting?”

Will moved the few remaining clementine pieces into one hand, and placed the other on Nico’s chest. He drew a circle with his finger directly over Nico’s heart and said, “Right here, I want to get a sun.”

“Why’s that? Are you afraid people won’t think you’re sunshiney enough because of the...everything about you?”

Will flicked him in the chest, right in the center of the circle he’d drawn. He smiled as he lifted his gaze out toward the lake - he was worried about something, Nico could tell that much just by looking at him.

“I’ve been thinking about my dad a lot recently,” Will started, his voice hushed as though he was sharing a secret. “I haven’t heard from him in so long and I’m...worried about what’s going to happen if he doesn’t make it. I’m worried about the state of the world, first and foremost, don’t get me wrong, but… What about me? Do I lose everything? Will I still be able to heal? Or use any of my other powers?”

He dropped his gaze again, eyes focused on the spot on Nico’s chest where his fingers had started to circle again. “So I want that tattoo as, like, a way to remember him, and a way to remember that part of myself, just in case things don’t go as planned.”

Nico covered Will’s hand with his own, and brought it up to his lips so that he could press a kiss to his knuckles. “Whatever happens, you’ll always be my sunshine.”

Will smiled at him sweetly and said, “Who are you, and what have you done with my significant annoyance?”

Nico huffed and threw Will’s hand away. “Way to ruin the moment.”

“Just ask me another question, would you?” Will asked, and popped another piece of clementine into his mouth. There was just one left - he’d give it to Nico.

“It’s not my turn,” Nico told him.

“Oh, yeah.” Will fed him the clementine and tipped his head back against the tree as he thought. “What’s your favorite movie?”

“I dunno, I don’t watch a lot of movies,” Nico replied. “I don’t really have the attention span for that, so I haven’t seen...any?”

Will’s jaw dropped. “You haven’t seen Star Wars?”

Nico hesitated. “Uh, no? I think Percy said I didn’t need to see it anyway, because there’s apparently some other Star-something movies that are better.”

“Star Trek?” Will shrieked. “Absolutely not! The Apollo cabin is a Star Wars family, and I will not stand for this kind of slander. For our next date, we’re watching the original trilogy.”

“Woah, hang on a second!” Nico held up his thumb between them. “First of all, I get to pick our next date.” He raised his index finger. “Second, I just said I can’t even sit through one movie, and you want me to watch three? I don’t think so.” He added his middle finger. “And third-- Uh, no actually, I don’t think I have a third point.”

“Okay, then two dates from now, we’ll watch Episode Four, and then another two dates later, we’ll watch Episode Five--”

“Why wouldn’t we start with the first episode?” Nico asked. “Wait, and I thought these were movies. Actually, no, never mind. Whatever, as long as it makes you happy.”

Will smiled. “It will.”

“So, I assume that’s your favorite movie.”

Will hummed an affirmative. He started to stroke Nico’s hair once again, and Nico’s eyes slipped shut at the feeling. “You gotta ask me another question,” Will whispered.

Nico cracked one eye open. “I just did.”

“That wasn’t a question, it was an assumption. And besides, I can’t think of another one, so you go.”

Nico rolled his eyes. “Oh, like I can? This game was your idea, Solace.” He let his eyes fall shut again, though there was a tiny wrinkle between his brows that let Will know he was trying to think. “What other powers do you have?”

Will tapped his fingers against Nico’s skull a few times, and then resumed playing with his hair. “Well, you know about the healing, and my sonic whistle. And, uh, I don’t know if this is a power, really, but I’m good at calming people down. And I can, um.” He cleared his throat, and Nico opened his eyes to see that Will was looking everywhere and anywhere that wasn’t at Nico. “Glow. So what other powers do you have?”

Nico sat up instantly. “Hang on, did you just say you can glow?” He turned to face Will, clutching his hands in his own and demanding, “Show me!”

Will’s cheeks were turning pink, and he still wouldn’t meet Nico’s eyes. “It’s-- I can’t, it’s too bright out here, so you wouldn’t be able to see it anyway, and… I dunno, it’s embarrassing.”

“No way, it’s not embarrassing, it’s cool. Just show me!”

Will sighed, and his eyes flickered up to meet Nico’s for just a second before he looked away again. “Fine, but only for a second. Can you try to make it a bit darker? It’ll show up better that way.”

Nico released Will’s hands and dropped his own to the ground. The shadow of the tree they sat under stretched and darkened, and the air around them grew cold enough that Nico wished he had a jacket. Will started to take off his flannel shirt, and Nico was half-tempted to reach out for it and put it on himself when he saw Will hold out his arms and close his eyes. A moment later, his skin turned from bronze to gold, each of his freckles acting as little flashlights to let the light escape from beneath Will’s skin.

Nico grinned. “That’s so cool!”

Will let the glow fade, and he pulled his flannel back on as Nico released his hold on the shadow. “It’s really nothing special,” Will muttered.

“Yes it is!” Nico insisted, waving his arms around for emphasis. “I have my own personal glow-in-the-dark boyfriend!”

Will’s head snapped up, his eyes locking on Nico’s as his jaw dropped open again. “Did you… Did you just say boyfriend?”

Nico’s cheeks had developed a bit of their own blush, but he refused to look away. “I… Yeah, I did. Is that okay?”

Will beamed, reaching out for one of Nico’s hands to lace their fingers together. “That’s so okay. That’s more than okay! Does that mean I can start calling you my boyfriend now, too?”

Nico let a smile creep onto his lips. “Nah, you’re my boyfriend, but I’m still your significant annoyance.”

Will rolled his eyes, but nothing would be able to take that smile off his face. He tugged on Nico’s hand to pull him close and press a kiss to his cheek. “You got that right.”

thanks for reading!!

buy me a coffee | come talk to me if you need a distraction!

#solangelo #will solace #nico di angelo #mine #my writing #ton spoilers

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fourthwallhateclub · 3 years

Text

Help me

Description: Emma is with Phoenix when she is kidnapped, can Bravo set aside their emotions in time to save her, or will they be too late...

A/N: I wrote some things like this over on Ao3 under “FourthWallHateClub”, this will eventually have a second part but with my ADHD I don’t know when that will happen 🙃 please feel free to send feedback on the fix, I know it’s shit but I live for shit so 🤭

@rebelreblogs

Emma's POV

Darkness... Floating... Silence... My eyes fluttered open and started to adjust to the light... where was I? The door slammed open,

"You're awake!" Was that... was that an Afghan accent? Then it all came back to hit me like a freight train...

48 hours before hand

"Sup Dalton." I said.

"Shut it Hayes." He said pissed off.

I turned to Mac with a questioning look, "Who pissed in his coffee?"

Mac smirked, "Don't take it personally, he's not pissed with you, he's pissed with Maddie. He was on his way to a football game with one of our old delta buddies when he got the call."

"It's..." I glanced at my watch, "1300 hours?"

"We we're gonna have a few beers!" Dalton groaned.

'More than a few.' I mouthed to Mac, he just coughed to stifle his laugh.

Matty walked in, tapping the glass creating a privacy screen, and clicked a button bringing an image up on screen. "Amir-Botzwat-Asharu."

"10 of clubs..." I breathed out in disbelief.

"International arms dealer, drug trafficker-"

"and grade-A prick." Jack stated matter-of-factly.

Mac snorted, "You can say that again."

"The guys been evading Phoenix since it was OPS, us personally for years, why are we concerned about him now?" I wondered.

"What's this got to do with us, CIA took over the case, why now?" Jack asked.

"If you’d let me talk, you’d know,” Matty said sarcastically, “He recently kidnapped and murdered an American. Phoenix have had him on our radar for a while now as you’re aware but the higher ups refused to green light the op to take him out, saying CIA had it handled. That all went to hell when their undercover agent was exposed, they shot him and put a bounty on everybody CIA affiliated."She said.

"We're on their SOS list Matty, we outrank some shitty little 'bounty' list." I said.

"Regardless, you, Dalton and MacGyver leave for the Middle East at 1600 this afternoon so you arrive at night, get your affairs in order because the big men upstairs say you don't leave till the jobs is done. You'll be properly briefed on the plane, but there are more pressing issues, you guys have up to date parachute qualifications right?"

"I don't like where this is going..." Jack mused.

"Me either..." Mac agreed.

"As much as I hate agreeing with you two shmucks, me three..." I said.

"Well whether you like it or not your jumping from that plane, there's no where for it to land where you'll keep your cover. Unless you want to walk 13 miles to where you'll be staying?" She challenged.

"WE'LL JUMP!!" We said in unison.

She smirked, "That's what I thought."

"Okay... where exactly are we going in the Middle East, and where are we staying?" I asked.

"You are going to Afghanistan."

"Fucking Trashcanistan?!? You've got to be kidding." Jack screeched.

Ah Dalton and his hatred for that place... he would get along with Uncle Sonny, man has a fear of bloody everything...

"SHIT!!" I yelled.

All heads snapped to me, "What's wrong Hayes?"

"Um... where exactly would we be staying?" I asked biting my lip.

"Navy base in J-"

I laughed nervously, "Would that be in J-Bad by any chance?"

"Yes, why?" Matty asked.

"We have a little problem..." I mumbled.

"And what would that be..." She mused, raising an eyebrow.

"My uh- my family was spun-up there a few weeks ago." I said.

"What do you mean Em?" Mac asked.

"I mean my family, is Bravo team. They are currently in the Middle East, and are stationed in J-Bad for the foreseeable future. What do we do?"

"I'm assuming that they were not among the people you told about your job?" Matty asked.

"No ma'am. Mac, Dalton, Bozer and Riley are the only ones who know..." I answered.

"You arrive at night anyway, you cover your tracks and stay as hidden as possible, don't talk to anyone and stay away from the sailors. Nobody is to know what you're doing there or who you are... to them you three are Black Rose, Hunter, and Eagle." Matty said.

"Yes ma'am."

"Well... get out of here."

We didn't need to be told twice, we were running out the door and to the squad room.

"What the fuck do I do?!?" I yelled as we entered the room.

"Want a hug?" Mac asked opening his arms. I nodded and walked into him tucking myself into his figure, "You'll be ok."

Jack's POV

"Wait! Is your dad the Jason Hayes, like Bravo 1, the legend?!?" I screeched.

"Uh- yeah.." Emma said pushing away from Mac and scratching her head.

"That explains a lot..."

"What do you mean?" She was confused.

"I mean, having worked with your father, I see where you get it from."

She laughed, "You are so old."

I gasped, "You mean we are so old. Mac and I worked together in the Army."

“No. You? You're old enough to be my dad. Mac? Is old enough to be my big brother." She laughed.

"Yeah, and we'll protect you like it too." I said hugging her shoulder.

"You won't have to do anything if my family spots me. I'll be on the first plane out of there and back home, complete with a tracker and navy seal protection detail. They'll never let me out of their fucking sight." She grumbled.

"You'll be ok. Let's get ready to rak out." I said.

"You're right."

I walked into my office and grabbed my rucksack and duffel. I met them back in the main room.

"List it Hayes."

She groaned, "Why???"

I smirked, "We're acting like the older brother and dad we are."

She rolled her eyes but spoke anyway, "I made sure my camping gear, fatigues and survival gear was in my bergan, along with Guns, ammo, knife and spare phones," we looked at her weirdly, "What? I'm sick of Mac breaking my shit. Dalton and I spend way to much fucking time at the Genius Bar creating new and inventive covers to explain what Mac does as is."

Mac raised his hands, "You got me."

She smirked, "I know I do, anyway, I grabbed my go-bag, passport and fake ID's."

"What's in your go-bag." I quizzed.

"Toiletries, Clothes, Cash, Raincoat, Matches, Lighter, Laptop, Flashlight, MRE's, water purification tablets, rope, duct tape, whistle, batteries, knife, and First aid kit. Why do we keep doing this?"

"Good, and we do it because we care." Mac said kissing her head.

“Ugh! Let's go." We headed out to Mac's truck and dumped our stuff in the back. She hopped in the back and we drove to Mac's place.

"Bozer!" Mac called.

"Sup guys." He said bro hugging Mac.

"We're heading out, I need you to take care of some stuff for us." Mac asked.

"Yeah ok, let me grab some paper." He said.

We walked into the kitchen and told him what we needed, Mac didn't need to worry because he lived with Bozer, so Em went first, "My rent is due first of the month, it auto pays but I need you to check on the seventh if I have mail just in case it didn't go through. I need mail collected on the 7th, 14th 21st, and 28th. Plants need to be watered but that can be done when you grab my mail, if anything happens there is a contact sheet folded in the draw of my desk, it'll tell you who to call, in what order. You good with that?"

"All good Em." He said with a smile.

"Thanks Boz."

"Your welcome, Jack anything you need." He questioned.

"I live next to Emma so same as her just no plants to water, if you could check on my place when you water Emma's plants that would be great, and there is a contact list in the box on top of the CD rack."

"Cool, I got it."

“Thanks Boz." Mac said walking back into the room with his bag.

"It's all cool man." He said.

We walked to the door before he called out, "Be safe, I want you back in one piece."

"We'll try Boz."

~Time skip brought to you by Sonny’s Bam-Bam~

We'd been briefed and where currently in our hammocks grabbing what sleep we could before we hit the ground running.

"Drop zone is up in 35."

"Let's go kids." I commanded with a laugh.

We packed up our hammocks and pulled on our jump suits. I strapped my duffel to the bottom of my bergan and grabbed my chute. Strapping my Bergan to my back I pulled the parachute over the top. I walked over to the ramp and waited for Mac and Em to join me.

"2 minutes to the drop zone"

"Ready ladies." I yelled over.

"We're coming." Mac laughed.

We attached to the central line and clipped in, we watched as the light turned on and the ramp lowered,

"5...4...3...2...1..."

The light turned green and we jumped. My drill instructors voice went through my head. Breathing Dalton... in for 2... hold for 4... out for 3... parachute in 3, 2, 1. Pull the cord. Release the parachute. Move your body vertical. Feet pointed down. Legs slightly apart. Hit the deck in 3...2...1. Land crouched. Bend knees and run forward 20 yards. Unclip and pull.

Emma and Mac landed next to me and we packed up our chutes.

"Base is roughly 1 click 228 degrees north east." I said.

"Comms up?" Mac asked.

"Yeah they are." Matty answered.

"Good." I said. "Let's go."

We moved our bergans to our fronts and held our duffel bags. We broke out into a jog eager to get out of the heat. Arriving at the 'base' we were met with our assigned CIA handler.

"Agent Jayden Riggs." He said offering his hand.

I shook it, "I'm Eagle, this is Hunter and she's Black Rose."

"Real names?" He asked.

"That's need to know." Emma answered.

“What do you mean, I'm your handler?"

"Look Riggs, we don't like spooks ok. We work alone, off our own intel. It's important our identities remain a secret." She answered shortly, that's my Hayes.

"Alright then, let's get you set up in cabins, Black Rose, you'll be separated from the men." He said as he started walking away.

"What?" I said.

"Gender sensitivity. Men and women are separated." He said like it was obvious.

"Yeah no, she stays with us. We don't care about gender sensitivity." Mac said before I could, reel in the big brother before you get yourself in trouble Mac.

"It's protoco-"

I cut him off, "Screw protocol, Black Rose stays with us."

"Of course." He relented.

He led us to a cabin as a humvee pulled up, out climbed 6 men and a dog, all in fatigues, before I could see anything else Emma pushed us into the cabin and slammed the door shut behind us as we collapsed onto the floor.

"What was that??"

"That! Was my family." She helped us up.

Jason's POV

We were on night patrol in a neighbouring town to J-bad, we'd been out for 6 hours and it was 0300. I decided it was time to head back.

"Let's move out."

We walked back to the humvee and climbed in. We'd been driving for about 15 minutes when we saw three figures drop from the sky.

"What the hell is that?" Sonny asked.

"I'll find out." I said keying my comms, "Havoc base this is Bravo 1, we've got three parachute jumpers coming towards base."

"Copy that Bravo 1, I'll find out." Blackburn answered, a few minutes later he keyed his coms again, "Stand down, their friendlies."

"What do you mean their 'friendlies'?"

"I'll find out."

I rolled my eyes, cryptic much. We watched as they landed about 5 clicks ahead of us and packed their chutes away, then started running towards base.

"We're not far out now. We'll talk when we get in." I said.

We got to the base gate and rolled through, getting out I saw three figures standing outside a cabin glance at us before one pushed the others into the cabin and slammed the door. Weird. After we dumped our gear in the shed. We walked into the team room where Eric and Mandy were waiting.

"Who were they?" I asked.

"Apparently they work for some government agency, they're following a lead on a case." Mandy said.

"Which agency?" Brock asked.

"I don't know guys. I don't know..." Eric said.

"Why did they jump Eric? Why not just land on the airstrip?" I quizzed.

"Apparently they're meant to be discreet. Nobody was supposed to know they're here." Mandy said.

"Well they did a crap job of that." Ray said.

"Actually Ray, you guys weren't meant to be out tonight, had base been on routine nobody would have seen them come in." Eric spoke.

"Well that's creepy." Clay said.

"What do we know about these guys Mandy?" I asked.

"Two guys, one girl actually." She stated hint of amusement in her tone.

"A girl?!?" Sonny yelled.

"What? Don't think women can do the same jobs as men? Or are you just worried she's going to outshine you." Lisa interrogated.

"No but if she gets snatched we'll be the ones collecting her." He grumbled.

"So? If she's snatched it's going to be for bad intel, and unfair conditions. Not because she's a woman." Lisa challenged.

"Enough! What do we know about them?" I yelled.

"Their handler couldn't tell me much, mainly because he didn't know a great deal. However, their code names are Black-Rose, Hunter and Eagle. Their handler doesn't know their real names and I suspect that's by design." Mandy spoke.

"Ok. First off those why do those code names ring a bell, Second what do we know about the organisation they work for?" Clay asked.

"Honestly? Nothing. None of my bosses know who or what they are and the further up I went the more I was told to stop digging." Mandy said.

"So what do we do?" Trent asked.

"We stay away. We don't talk to them, not only for your safety but for theirs too. You see them walking you say nothing, although I suspect given all the trouble they went to so they weren't seen while getting here, we won't be seeing an awful lot of them." Eric mused.

"Alright then." I said clapping my hands, "We need to sleep." I turned to Eric, "I trust if you find anymore information that could be of use you'll speak to us?"

"Of course." Eric said nodding curtly before walking out of the room.

#jason hayes #ray perry #sonny quinn #mandy ellis #lisa davis #trent sawyer #brock reynolds #clay spenser #eric blackburn #seal team #macgyver #angus macgyer #jack dalton #emma hayes #rebels reblogs #author can't write #author thrives off not knowing what they're doing #author seriously doesn't know how to tag

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sylvie-writes · 4 years

Note

here’s what i’m thinking. it’s the 1940’s. y/n is on her first date w the lovely steve rogers. it’s lots of shy giggly fluff. syd, my fabulous companion, can you write something along the lines of this and i’ll swim across the atlantic to shower you and mags in kisses. love u xx

First Date Jitters

“Becs, what if he doesn’t like me. What if I annoy him?”

Bothered, you laid your arms on the vanity and groaned, annoyed by the mere thought of ruining this first date. Steve Rogers seemed like a dreamboat and the minute he asked you out on a date, your eyes formed hearts and you were floating on cloud nine.

“Honey, he asked you out on a date, didn’t he?

“Yeah, but y’all pushed him! Maybe he felt pity for me and-”

Tired of your rambling, Rebecca ran the brush through your hair a bit too harsh for your liking.

“Geez! What was that for, Barnes?”

She smirked and went back to brushing your hair, returning to gentle strokes from before.

“To shut ya mouth full of lies.” Her strong New York accent came through and you giggled. When Rebecca spoke with a said accent, she meant business and was going to get her point through regardless if you listened or not.

Eventually, you zipped your mouth, letting Becca work her magic with your hair and makeup. As she did so, your mind drifted off to the first time you had met Steve.

“Pleaseeeeee, Bucky’s bringing a friend for dinner. Don’t leave me in a room full of testosterone.”

Becca was down on her knees, clasping the hem of your dress. Currently, you were standing in the middle of a busy sidewalk, people passing and shooting funny glares. Embarrassed, you pulled at her arms, but to no avail, she wouldn't budge from her spot on the cement.

“Rebecca Barnes, get off the ground! You look like a fool!”

“Not till you say, yes. You know how many dinners you’ve turned down?”

Groaning, you agreed to go just this once. The last time you went to dinner, you made a complete fool of yourself, even though Rebecca said otherwise. Bucky’s naturally flirtatious nature and secretive winks made you read into the situation a bit too much. From then on you vowed to never show up at a dinner of theirs. You’d known Rebecca for almost five years, yet you still couldn’t forgive yourself for that first night.

“You know why I always refuse, Becca.”

She linked her arm in yours, now off the ground and ready to walk around town some more.

“I know, but Bucky does that to every friend I’ve brought home. Don’t worry, the other girls did way worse than you. In the end, Bucky just likes to hook, line, and sink em kind of thing.”

Rebecca laughed, punctuating her sentence, and at her words of assurance, you felt a bit relieved.

That night you knocked on the door, and within seconds it flew open. Rebecca, flour covered hands, held out her arms for an awkward hug.

“You didn’t chicken out this time!”

You gave her a set of squinted eyes and she lightly giggled, waltzing back to the kitchen. Just as you were about to follow, a certain someone stopped you. Blocking the doorway, a young man you had been trying to avoid stood before your much smaller figure.

“Hey! You showed up this time, angel! Sorry I know I kind of scared you off last time. I’m sure Becs has given you her opinion on me.”

Bucky scratched at the back of his neck, shyly looking into your eyes.

“No hard feelings, Buck.”

You gave the man a tight lipped smile and started to maneuver past him, when his arms reached out for your waist.

“Becca told you I brought a friend, right?”

Confused, you cautiously nodded.

“Well, I want you to meet him. Hey Punk! Get out here!”

Suddenly, a man, no smaller than yourself rounded the corner and smiled bashfully at you.

“Hi ma’am, name’s Steve Rogers.”

The man, Steve, held out a hand for you to shake, which you did. All of a sudden, you two started talking and before you knew it, Bucky had left to go tell Rebecca their plan had worked. As implied, dinner ended with Steve asking you out.

“Hellooooo, any one home in there?”

Rebecca playfully tapped your head, shaking you from your thoughts.

“Huh?”

“I’ve been trying to get your attention for the past five minutes. Thinking ‘bout Rogers, aren't ya?”

With a timid smile, you nodded, soon standing from the vanity seat and going to change. Your friend had done an amazing job on pinning up your hair and fixing your makeup. You almost felt like a million bucks. To compliment it all, your mother had even found you a little baby pink number. Quickly changing, you stepped out of the closet, twirling in the sea on the pink fabric. Rebecca gasped at the sight and immediately reached for the camera, taking a picture of you, mid laughter.

Checking your wrist watch, you suddenly heard the doorbell and practically ran for the door with Rebecca who was laughing so hard that she couldn’t keep up.

Swinging open the door a bit too excitedly, you found Steve’s grin dissipating. A bit disappointed with his reaction, you toned down the excitement, hoping he wouldn’t notice your sudden change in demeanor.

“Wow, doll. You look,” The young man swallowed the lump in his throat, “stunning. Absolutely gorgeous!”

At the words, your disappointment morphed into satisfaction, and you stepped out the door, hitching onto Steve’s arm, waving goodbye to your best friend.

“Don’t keep her out too late, Steven!”

Rebecca’s words followed you both down the hallway, causing some laughter from Steve, who seemed a bit uncomfortable. Worried once more, you decided to pry a bit.

“Is everything ok, Steve?”

He turned to you with wide eyes and shook his head to dispute your many apologies.

“I’m just a bit nervous, it’s not you! It's just that no girl as pretty as you has never gone out with me before.”

Steve’s cheeks turned rosy red, before he looked the other direction, not wanting you to see him like this. In his mind, one wrong move and you’d leave him for another.

Humbled at his comment, you took your free hand and turned his face in your direction. With a big smile, you planted a soft kiss on the corner of his lips, leaving the young man almost breathless.

“Don’t worry about me, Stevie. I’m not going anywhere, except where you take me.”

Confident by your actions, Steve stood a bit taller and led you out of the apartment building, excited for his first date with you.

You were tucked into Steve’s side, enjoying a small conversation with him. The two of you were quite the pair, nervously asking the other one a question, trying to get to know each other since this was your first date. They say opposites attract, but that was not the case with you and Steve. So far, he had told you of the endless days he’d spent in the hospital, and a part of you longed for him to be healthy, as that sounded like his one wish. Steve would go on and on about how Bucky had set him up on dates and it normally ended with Bucky having two girls around his arms instead of one. You could see Steve’s self-confidence faltering, so you decided to share your many failed-date stories, eliciting a laugh from the man at the few comedic ones.

The whole walk, you were so caught up in talking to the man, that the two of you almost passed the first place you were going to stop. Of course, you were clueless as to where Steve was taking you, so you would have kept walking if Steve hadn’t stopped and gently placed his hands over your eyes. You felt the man turn you around and walk you a few steps when finally he removed the makeshift blindfold that was his hands.

“We’re here! Rebecca told me how much you loved chocolate, so I figured you could pick a box of your choice.”

He smiled lovingly at you, as you squealed like a child on Christmas morning. Thrilled, you ran into the store, seeing a case of a variety of chocolates. Steve caught up and enjoyed your cute facial expressions as you scanned over the options. There was an endless amount of chocolate, all in different forms and unthinkable flavors. About to order, you pulled out your clutch when Steve halted your actions.

“Now you think I’m gonna let my girl pay for her own box of chocolates?”

“But Steve-”

Your date stood strong in his statement, and demanded that you pick whatever chocolate you wanted. After scowling at him for a bit, you finally caved and picked from the overwhelming selection behind the glass case. You and Steve shared a few samples, laughing at how you both were acting like wine samplers. Since your date was buying the box, you told him that you’d only allow him to do so, if he selected a few chocolates himself. Begrudgingly, Steve agreed and you both might’ve held up the line a bit with your indecisiveness.

Walking out, you were once again wrapped into Steve’s side, this time his jacket on your shoulders as the sun had gone down and the night chills had creeped out. So far, you could feel Steve becoming more and more comfortable as the two of you started to talk about whatever came to mind. Just as you thought the man was done with the surprises, he stopped in front of the movie theater.

“Steve-”

“Nope, this is our first date, and we are going to make it memorable!”

You chuckled at his persistence and decided to play along.

“Well what about this lovely chocolate, we can’t just toss it out yet?”

Steve took the box and stuffed it in the pocket of his jacket that was still hanging on your shoulders.

“Oooh is Steve Rogers breaking the rules?”

A cheeky grin formed on his lips, “Only because I really like you.”

The minute the words left his mouth, Steve’s ears started to turn cherry and you shyly giggled.

“Well, I really like you too, Steve Rogers.” With that, you kissed him, but this time on the lips. As you did so, you could feel his cheeks warming and a big smile twisted onto your lips, breaking the kiss.

“Oh Steve Rogers, what am I going to do with you?”

#steve rogers x reader

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destieltropecollection · 4 years

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Destiel Trope Collection 2020 Day 1: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics

A Bite to Remember | @darmysasagiri

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1104 Main Tags/Warnings: Alpha/Alpha, Top Cas/Bottom Dean, Mating Bites, One Night Stands Summary: Alphas can't mate Alphas, everyone knows this, or do they?

Oblivious Mates | @fangirlingtodeath513

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1984 Main Tags/Warnings: Castiel/Dean Winchester,Castiel (Supernatural),Dean Winchester,Knotting,Mating Cycles/In Heat,Heat Sex,Rut Sex,A/B/O,Friends With Benefits,Consensual Somnophilia,Mating Bites,Misunderstandings,Lack of Communication,Fuckbuddies,Spooning,Cuddling & Snuggling,Naked Cuddling,True Mates,Scenting Summary: Dean and Cas have been heat/rut fuck buddies for a while now, but Dean's starting to get second thoughts. His feelings evolved a long time ago but now he's feeling guilty about holding Castiel back from finding his true mate.

Sun Warmed | @suckerfordeansfreckles

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 2586 Main Tags/Warnings: alpha Cas, omega Dean, first meeting, house-sitting, a bit of voyeurism Summary: Dean is a little bitter, but only in the safety and privacy of his own head, and definitely never around his brother and his new sister-in-law. Because those two really do deserve all the happiness in the world. And just because Dean wishes for a little happiness for himself, he will not ruin their bliss. The thing that’s a little hard on Dean, lately, is that during the past few months, Sam and Eileen’s new house somehow started to feel more like home than his own apartment does. He’s not even over that much, but he feels so safe and good and happy, here. It’s a space he feels like himself in, and it’s not really the company, it feels more like the energy around their house, the amazing smell seemingly haunting Dean when he drives back home and slowly loses it. He’s not sure which flowers Eileen planted that smell this way, but he’s been meaning to ask her for months. Currently, Sam and Eileen are in Hawaii for their honeymoon and Dean gets daily selfie updates while he house-sits for them. And somehow, during all of that and while accidentally flashing a guy, he figures out where that amazing smell comes from.

Essential Services | @Imbiowaresbitch

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3444 Main Tags/Warnings: Roommates, omegaverse, explicit sex, top Cas/bottom Dean, alpha Cas, Omega Dean, mating bites, quarantine, pandemic, heat/rut sex Summary: Cas has been sent home to work as an unessential service. When he arrives, he realizes his roommate Dean clearly wasn't expect him to arrive. What happens when they finally give in to each other?

Kiss Me, Kill Me | @saltnhalo

Rating: Mature Word Count: 4668 Main Tags/Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Omega Dean, Assassin Castiel (Supernatural), Guard Dean Winchester, Assassin Dean Winchester, Canon-Typical Violence, True Mates, Scenting, BAMF Dean Winchester, BAMF Castiel (Supernatural), Murder Husbands Summary: Seasoned hitman Castiel Novak is just looking to take out his target and get paid, but should've accounted for the fact that he may not be the only assassin at tonight's party... Cue the mysterious, green-eyed man who is more of a match for Castiel than anyone he's ever met.

Up On The Rooftop Greenhouse | @envydean

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 5017 Main Tags/Warnings: alpha!michael, omega!dean, Beta!Castiel, Arranged Marriage, truemates, defying truemates, fighting destiny, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Kisses, Wedding ceremonies, pack houses, mentions of potential abuse of power Summary: Michael Shurley is Dean Winchester's true mate. Except, Dean has been in love and dating the Winchester house gardener, Castiel Novak, for nearly three years and Dean doesn't want that to stop. He needs to find a way out of the impending wedding before it's too late, especially when Michael shows his true colours.

A Strange Place To Find Love | @navajolovesdestiel

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 6159 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Omega Dean, Heats, ruts. Knotting. Happy Ending Summary: The Alpha/omega Rut/heat Center was the brainchild of a ‘more progressive, more caring’ government. In reality, it was just a way to stop Alphas from jumping unmated omegas when they were in rut, and to stop unmated omegas from getting knocked up during a heat by some Alpha they picked up, then having to go on welfare because the Alpha wouldn’t pay pup support. Dean Winchester worked for the center as a willing omega. Castiel Novak decided to give it a try.

Steel and Whiskey | @saltnhalo

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 6207 Main Tags/Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Omega Dean, Mafia AU, Mobster Castiel, Mobster Dean Winchester, Mistaken Identity, Explicit Sexual Content, Top Castiel (Supernatural), Bottom Dean Winchester, Topping from the Bottom, Knotting, First Meetings, BAMF Dean Winchester, BAMF Castiel (Supernatural) Summary: When Castiel agrees to meet with the leader of the Winchester pack in the heart of his territory, he does not find the alpha he’s expecting. Instead, he meets an omega in Dean Winchester’s apartment with stunning green eyes and an alluring air of danger. Someone should have warned Castiel that the Winchester leader is not an alpha.

Just Here For A Good Night | @saltnhalo

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 6646 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fraternities & Sororities, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Castiel/Omega Dean Winchester, Top Castiel, Bottom Dean, Team Dean's Red Ass, Dom/sub Undertones, Dom Castiel, Fluff, Frat Boy Castiel Summary: In which Dean is looking to get laid at an Alpha Phi Alpha party, and sets his sights on Castiel, who's just trying to make sure that nothing bad happens on his watch.

Are You Real, Dean Winchester? | Maleyah (AO3)

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 7447 Main Tags/Warnings: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Rape/Non-con Elements (not between Dean and Cas), Mental Health Issues, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Dean Winchester, Omega Castiel, Mating Bond, Hurt/Comfort, Self-Medication, Near overdose, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hallucinations Summary: Castiel struggles to survive in a world that was never right for him to begin with. So far, he has always survived his turbulent mind... because despite everything, his broken brain, his loneliness, the never-ending struggle, he's a fighter. One night, exceptionally reckless, borderline overdosed on his meds, he wanders the streets, foregoing his self-preservation. Hoping for the end, almost finding it, unless his brain is throwing him for a loop again. ... Only to be found by Dean Winchester.

Did you get my reference? (WIP) | @spnsmile

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 8918 Main Tags/Warnings: Top dean w/ bottom castiel, explicit Summary: Take Dean, most handsome CEO with very pretty face and just your typical successful Alpha who owns his own company at the age of 30. But despite popular belief, Dean has one problem he needs to solve before an international conference: he hates the smell of unmated Omegas. Come Castiel, a clumsy word-class geek literature major who appeared in front of Dean in the middle of a raging river. His scent drives Dean's instinct to bite, plus he gets rid of all other scents in the air. Now Dean only has to convince him to be his plus one. Which means having a talking encyclopedia who trips in its own legs. How can Dean protect his high-wired True Mate from other Alphas and himself?

It's A Hard Knot Life | @navajolovesdestiel

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 10874 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Dean Winchester, Omega Castiel, Punk Castiel, Rape, Tattoos. Knotting Summary: Dean walked up the counter and his nose was filled with the scent of peticior and sandalwood. He took a deep breath. The guy never looked up. Dean cleared his throat. Nothing. He rapped his knuckles on the counter. The guy didn’t look up, but he said, in a gravelly voice that gave Dean shivers, “Yeah?” “I was wondering if you had the latest CD by St Paul and the Broken Bones?” The guy looked up and Dean found himself looking into eyes so blue, he didn’t have a name for the color. The black eyeliner just accentuated their color. “We have a system here for finding things. It’s called alphabetically, you may have heard of it? That means the S’s are right between the R’s and the T’s.” Then he went right back to reading his book.

Black Rose Tattoo | @navajolovesdestiel

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 10989 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Omega Dean, Tattoo Artist Castiel (Supernatural), Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor. Explicit Sexual Content, Knotting, Pups, Dean is demisexual Summary: Dean heard the motorcycle before he saw it. He looked out the big front window of his shop, and waited until the cycle appeared. He watched the Alpha pull to the curb, stop the bike, get off and take off his helmet. He’d watched the same scene every day since he’d opened the flower shop next to the tattoo parlor. The Alpha shook his perpetually messy hair and walked to open his shop, out of Dean’s view. Dean sighed and went back to work.

Palaces of Rome (WIP) | @tucuxia

Rating: Mature Word Count: 11291 Main Tags/Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Castiel/Omega Dean Winchester, Alpha Sam Winchester/Alpha Gabriel, Alpha/Alpha pairing, Alternate Universe - Ancient Rome, BAMF Castiel, BAMF Gabriel Summary: Despite his size and his father's expectations, Dean presented as an omega. Infertile, male omegas have no rights in Rome, so John arranges to sell him to the son of the Emperor in an attempt to provide his alpha son, Sam, a better life. Sam joins the army under General Gabriel's expert tutelage, swearing to become a warrior famous enough to buy his brother back. Dean accepts his place in the prince's harem, but he's about to stumble upon the biggest secret in Rome, one that has kept hundreds of thousands of male omegas enslaved for almost eight hundred years. The secret will either push Rome into an age of peace and prosperity or it will shatter one of the greatest empires in the ancient world.

Something Dark | kradarua (AO3)

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 16466 Main Tags/Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Dean Winchester, Omega Castiel, Spanking, Under-negotiated Kink, Rough Sex, Rimming, Choking, Dom/sub Undertones, Thief Dean Winchester, Dark Dean Winchester, Dark Castiel, Dark Sam Winchester, Dark Charlie Bradbury, Possessive Dean Winchester, Illegal Activities, Torture, Sexual Slavery, Murder Husbands, Killer Castiel, Killer Dean Winchester, Top Dean/Bottom Castiel Summary: Castiel looked even wilder in person. Dean let his eyes roam over his (now fully clothed) form, smiling appreciatively. He inhaled deeply, curious to find no real trace of a scent. “He’s on scent blockers,” the employee explained. ""Running this auction is involved enough without having to settle claim disputes if an omega’s scent triggers some alpha’s rut.” That suited him fine; both he and Sam were on scent blockers most of the time and he’d planned on requiring that Castiel stay on them too. It helped with anonymity. “Thank you,” he said, “That will be all.” The employee gave a small bow and left to service the other high bidders. “Well, Cas,” Dean said cheerily, “Let’s go home.”

Porn and Peonies | @navajlovesdestiel

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 20865 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe Alpha/Omega, Porn Star Dean Winchester, Alpha Dean Winchester, Omega Castiel (Supernatural), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Mpreg, Mating, Switching Summary: When Cas accidentally meets his favorite porn star, Dean Smith, he's thrilled. He never expects what comes next with Dean Winchester, Alpha to his omega.

Mulanatural (WIP) | @tucuxia

Rating: Mature Word Count: 33385 Main Tags/Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Castiel/Omega Dean Winchester, Alpha Sam Winchester, Beta Adam Milligan, Mulan (Disney) Summary: Dean Winchester is possibly the worst omega in his town; he's too big, too strong, and way too dominant. When the Matchmaker rejects his suit for a mate and the Huns invade China, he has to pretend to be an alpha to save his brother's life, but he may well lose his own in the process. Worse, he may dishonor his whole family.

A Symphony of Flavors | @wargurl83

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 43223 Main Tags/Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Chefs, Minor Character Death (offscreen) - Freeform, Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Omega Verse, thar be smut here, Top Cas/Bottom Dean Summary: Master Chef Castiel Novak likes his life ordered. Controlled. Sensible. He's an Alpha with no mate and no hope of finding one. His life is turned upside down with the death of his sister and taking guardianship of his nine-year-old niece, Claire. Add to that, there's a new sous chef taking up space in his very orderly kitchen with his loud music and brash attitude, and for some reason Castiel just can't take his eyes off him. Dean Winchester loves to cook, love his mom, and loves kids. His goal has been to work with Chef Novak for as long as he's been in Kansas City. What he wasn’t prepared for was an Alpha all of his own…

The Nuances of Pack Politics (WIP) | @tucuxia

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 72679 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - High School, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Castiel/Alpha Dean Winchester, ,Alpha Sam Winchester, Omega Gabriel Summary: Castiel and Gabriel Novak are having a hard time fitting into their new school, constantly harassed by older alphas now that they have lost the familiar protection of their own brothers. The Pack, a group that claims to welcome and protect omegas at their high school, may offer them a chance to change all of that, as long as they can get in.

Grown-Ups Making Grown-Up Choices | @carrieosity

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 81039 Main Tags/Warnings: Humor and Fluff, Pining, Self-improvement, Self-worth issues, Comedy, Awkward Flirting, Mating, Sexual Harassment, Threatened Non-Con (brief), Healthy Relationships Summary: Dean is a grown-ass man - he can take perfectly good care of himself, thank you very much. Except that sometimes the easier or more fun choices aren't always the right or best ones, and, all right, maybe thinking ahead and working the long game isn't his strongest suit. It's fine! He's fine. When he meets Castiel, he realizes that flying by the seat of his pants may not be the best way to attract the super-serious (gorgeous, funny, genius) Alpha. Dean's shrink has been telling him he needs to start making ""grown-up choices,"" and if that's what he has to think about in order to make Cas fall for him, then he'll give it a whirl.

Celestial War (WIP) | @tucuxia

Rating: Mature Word Count: 151571 Main Tags/Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Dean/Omega Castiel, Alpha Sam/Omega Gabriel, Alpha Crowley/Omega Balthazar, Mating Cycles/In Heat Summary: The three tribes--Celestial, Wilderness, and Spellbound--have been at an uneasy stalemate for generations, but a prophecy about four omegas could bring about a full-scale war that will destroy them all.

don't care where you've been (WIP) | @thanks-tacos

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 240842 Main Tags/Warnings: Omega Dean, Alpha Castiel, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean, Past Rape/Non-con, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Alternate Universe - Domestic, Arranged Marriage, Abused Dean Winchester, Caring Castiel, Happy Ending, full tag list in the fic Summary: Dean's life is finally changing. After years of enduring Alastair's abuse, the alpha dies and Dean's married off to the next alpha the system pairs him with - Castiel. The man is strange and distant, but not exactly bad, and Dean's determined to be on his best behavior and not mess up the chance he was given. Soon enough, though, he fucks up anyway and has to call the alpha for help. Castiel's lived his entire life without an omega by his side, and he was fine with that. He doesn't know how to proceed once he's suddenly married to a beautiful man who's obviously been through a lot. Omegas were always a confusing subject to him, so he tries not to interfere much - neither of them is there by their choice. But when Dean calls for help, he understands he's going to have to set some things straight and engage more.

#destiel trope collection 2020 #destiel trope collection #destiel #Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics #omegaverse #day 1

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dokoni-mo · 4 years

Text

Breaking Rules || Captain Rex x Reader

(A/N: Hello hello!! I wrote this for my good friend @captainrexstan ‘s birthday!! Go send her some love!! I hope you enjoy this bb :)) taglist is open for anything!! enjoy! Also, reader is a padawan, but they are of age!! no illegal activity here)

WARNINGS: light cursing, some sexual innuendos, but otherwise none!! This bad boy is some tooth-rooting, cotton candy fluff

Key: (F/N) = first name

Word Count: ~2400

~~~

You always hated in when Rex didn’t follow along with your antics, but found it hard to stay mad.

This was mostly due to how damn cute he was when he was trying to remain as by-the-book as possible. He would always come up with a million reasons why what you were trying to do with him was wrong, but this never stopped you from dragging him along for the ride. This didn’t stop you, however, because you just had so much damn fun with him.

You often wondered if he secretly enjoyed moments like this. You were his lover, after all, why wouldn't he enjoy spending time with you? Even if in these moments he complained to no end.

One of these moments was now.

“Cyare,” he said from behind you, his accent thick with worry and complaint. You were currently leading him by the hand through the vegetation of the planet Master Skywalker and Master Obi-Wan, your master, had taken you, him, the 501st, and the 212th. Even though you were supposed to drive out a group of separatists in the morning, you couldn’t find the strength to care. Upon your entrance to the planet, you had immediately noticed the hot springs that lined the perimeter of your camp. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, you took the sight as the perfect opportunity to sneak off with your secret clone boyfriend.

Even if he was going to complain the whole time.

“Cyare,” Rex said from behind you again, only this time a bit louder, “(F/N), please, I know you’re excited, but we have to-”

“Rex! Please!” you said, turning your head over your shoulder to look at him.

He was so damn handsome in the pale light of the grass. His golden, honey eyes were filled with both worry and even a twinge of curiosity, slightly crinkled as he focused on your form in front of him. You had whisked him away when he was in the middle of taking off his armor, so his chest piece, shoulder pads, and helmet were gone, leaving him in his black shirt, belt, and leg armor. Dropping your gaze for a second, you admired how his muscles looked under his blacks.

How in the world did you get so damn lucky?

You never expected to meet someone like him upon your entrance into the jedi order.

“Just trust me, okay?” you continued, picking up your gaze and shooting him a smile, “You’re gonna love this!”

“I don't doubt that, cyare, I just…” his gaze faltered for a second, “I don’t want to get in trouble. I don't want you to get in trouble with General Kenobi or General Skywalker.”

You let out a giggle as you continued to drag him through the tall grass.

He was so damn cute.

“I highly doubt Master Skywalker would be mad at me for his, Rex. Or mad at you for that matter. Plus, my master will probably just give me the look if he finds out, so don’t worry, okay?”

You heard Rex sigh from behind you. Picking up on his tone, you sensed no annoyance from him. Instead, you only sensed… content.

Maker above, you loved that man.

“If you say so, cyare.”

Looking over your shoulder again at him, you instantly noticed the way he looked at you. Rex’s face was full of nothing but pure, unfiltered adoration as he gazed upon your frame. The way you made him feel was indescribable. Never in his albeit short life had he ever felt as happy as he was with you. You constantly reminded him that there was more to life than fighting a war, that there was real purpose inside him, and not just what the kaminoans had programmed him to care about. Each day, he was grateful for you, for everything you had done for him.

You both agreed without speaking that disobeying the jedi code and the republic rules was one of the best decisions of your lives.

You felt your heart swell at the small smile Rex gave you in that tall grass.

Continuing on for a short while, you both started to notice how humid the air was getting. Of course, your boyfriend was the one to complain about it.

“(F/N),” he said, “Do you feel that? It’s getting hot. And muggy.”

“Yes, I do.” you said with a giggle, “That means we’re close!”

“Close?” Rex asked, “W-What do you mean?”

As if on cue, you pulled aside the final piece of tall grass separating you and Rex from your destination. As the grass moved, the two of you were met by the sight of a small pool of steaming water, puffs of vapor radiating off of it's surface. Surrounding the pool was a plethora of flowers, some of which gave off their own, faint bioluminescence, sending cascades of color across the surface of the hot water. Along with the flowers, a few trees surrounded the perimeter of the pool, their hanging moss providing a partial curtain for the pool.

The sight just screamed (F/N) and Rex.

Proud of yourself, you looked up at your lover with a smile on your face as your crossed your arms. You felt your cheeks redden at his expression. Rex looked almost shocked. You wondered if he had ever seen something like this before.

“(F/N),” he eventually said quietly, “I, erm… wow, cyare, this is…”

“Totally great? Yeah, I know.” you finished for him, taking a step closer to him and giving him a soft, quick peck on the cheek.

Before you could get too far away, Rex reached out his hands with a soft smile on his face, planting them upon your sides to keep you close to him. Your cheeks reddening, you looked up at him as he spoke.

“Is this a bad time to tell you how amazing you are?”

Your cheeks tinting a deeper tone, you giggled again as you rested your hands upon his chest.

“It’s never a bad time.” you said before standing on your tip-toes, closing the distance between the pair of you to plant a firm yet soft kiss upon his lips.

Rex always tasted so sweet.

You wondered where he got it from.

Before you let the display of affection get too… passionate, you pulled away from Rex, planting your feet flat back onto the ground.

“Now, come on,” you said, pulling lightly on his black top, “take off your clothes.”

Your eyes instantly widened as you finished your sentence.

You didn’t mean for what you said to sound the way it did.

Your face reddening to match the color of your blood, you couldn’t help but hide your face in his chest as you heard him chuckle. Letting out a groan of embarrassment, you felt Rex’s lips make contact with your forehead as he pulled you closer for a quick hug, telling you that it was alright without the usage of words.

“Well, if you insist, commander.” he teased, purposely making his voice an octave lower. Your shoulders stiffening, you pulled away and gave him a playful push on his shoulder, making you giggle and him let out another chuckle.

“You know what I mean!” you exclaimed, your cheeks still stained red.

“Yes, of course, commander,” he teased again, turning around to face the opposite direction, “I promise I won’t peek.”

Letting out a playful scoff, you turned your back to face Rex’s as you slid off your outer layers of clothing, only stopping when you were only left in your underwear. It took Rex a moment longer to shed his clothing, since he also had to deal with his armor. Crossing your arms, you stared at the sights before you as you waited for him to finish.

When he did, however, you weren’t expecting the way he would tell you he was done.

Catching you off-guard, you felt two large, strong arms wrap themselves around your waist, startling you a little and making you jump. Your cheeks dusting pink, you were pulled against the arms’ owner’s chest, his head resting in the crook of your neck. Instinctively, you rested your arms overtop of his, turning your head slightly towards his own.

“Have I ever told you how perfect you are for me, cyare?” you heard Rex ask, your heart swelling at the sound of his low, accented voice filling your ears.

Your heart swelled with pure, raw joy.

This was the best feeling in the world.

Love.

“You do it all the time, sweets.” you responded, trailing soft, slow patterns on his arms.

“And do you believe me?” he asked.

“Yes, of course.” you responded.

“Good,” he began, breaking to press a kiss to your temple, “Don’t ever forget it, cyare.”

Smiling a broad, goofy smile, you gently slid out of Rex’s grasp, taking one of his hands into your own as you looked at him.

“Come on, lover boy,” you said, “I didn’t take you here for nothing.”

Leading him over to the pool of steaming water, you held firmly onto Rex’s calloused hand, and continued to do so as you guided him into the water. Letting go as you both sat down, you assumed one side of the pool as he did the other. Watching his face morph from one of concentration to one of amusement, then surprise, then bliss, you let out another giggle, hugging your knees to your chest.

He looked so handsome in the light of the bioluminescent flowers.

You wished you and him could stay there for the rest of time.

“Feel bad for complaining so much yet?” you teasingly asked. All you were met with in response was a low humm of content and affirmation from him, making you let out a short laugh.

Watching him lean his head back and close his eyes from comfort, you felt a smile form on your lips as you looked down, playing with the water beneath your gaze. You figured he wouldn’t want to talk for a little while.

You didn’t mind.

Just seeing him relax for once made the trip here all worth while.

As you played with the ripples in the water, you didn’t notice how Rex had picked his gaze up. You didn’t notice how intently he was now staring at you, your body and face illuminated with a flurry of colors from the flowers.

Almighty maker above, you were absolutely breathtaking.

You were far more gorgeous than any woman he had ever seen.

You put every single queen, senator, princess, and duchess to shame.

If you were to die right then and go to heaven, the angles would have to hide their faces in shame, for they would know they could never compare to you.

Rex was so deeply in love with you.

Rex had never felt this strongly about anyone before.

Looking at your frame in the steaming water, glossy from the vapor, he envisioned the rest of his life with you.

After the war, he knew.

He knew he wanted to settle down with you. He knew he wanted to go far away from Coruscant with you. He knew he wanted to marry you. He knew he wanted to have a family with you.

He cursed the war for holding him back from this, as well as the jedi code.

But, he knew..

He would rearrange every star in the sky, if it meant he got to spend just one more second with you.

He didn’t know how to tell you this. He had no idea where to begin.

Be brushed it all to the side for the time being.

He would tell you in due time.

Instead, Rex decided to focus on now.

“Cyare,” he said, making your gaze snap back up to him.

“Yeah, Rex?”

“Why are you so far away?” He asked. Noticing the blush on your cheeks, he lounged one of his arms around the rim of the pool, inviting you to come to him.

“Come here, baby.” he continued.

Your blush deepening, you nodded your head, shifting through the water to rest yourself underneath Rex’s arms. Once you were secure next to him, Rex wrapped his arm around your shoulders. Resting your head on his strong, bare shoulder, Rex reached his free hand down in the water, lifting up your legs to drape over his lap as he gave you a kiss on the forehead.

Did the two of you die?

You both could have sworn that this infinitesimally small spot in the infinite vastness of the galaxy…

Was heaven.

‘You’re very warm.” you spoke after a long moment, your voice just loud enough for him to hear.

You felt his lips tighten into a smile.

“You are too.” Rex responded.

“Too hot for ya, Captain?” you teased, breathing out a smile.

Another chuckle from him, “Never.”

Looking up at him, you had no idea what came over you. In a fleeting moment, you shifted your weight so that you sat up, moving your legs so that you straddled his lap, shifting up your hands to have one lie on his chest and the other on his neck. A certain look glossing over his eyes, Rex moved his hands to rest upon your hips, holding you in place so that you wouldn’t slide off, his large hands wrapping around you oh so good.

“Aren’t you the eager one tonight, huh?” He asked, his tone laced with a slight husk as his honey-colored eyes bore into yours.

You giggled, “Hard to control myself with such a handsome soldier right here next to me.”

Breathing out a smile, Rex leaned his blonde, buzz-cut head up to you, locking your lips together in a quick kiss.

When the kiss broke, you slowly opened your eyes, locking your gaze into the very core of his own honey ones.

You were so glad you dragged him here.

And even more glad you could tolerate his complaining.

“I love you, Rex.” you breathed out, rubbing your thumb against this chiseled jawline and cheek, “So much. I’ll never love anyone else in my life.”

It was his turn to smile, “I love you too, (F/N). I would break every rule in the book if it was for you.”

Giggling and pressing another kiss to his soft lips, you allowed the feeling of his hands to creep all over your body, promising of quite the long night for you and him.

~~~

TAGS: @captainrexstan , @spaghetti-666 , @breakfastpizzagalaxy

#captain rex #commander rex #captian rex x reader #commander rex x reader #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars x you #star wars fanfic #star wars fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #rex x reader #rex x you #tcw #tcw x reader #the clone wars #the clone wars x reader #the clones

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chrismho · 4 years

Text

Lakmé

Summary: Is this not the closest I’ve ever been to living? The Kurosaki Family invites Rukia along with them to the Opera. Ichiruki/Rukia-centric one-shot inspired by the opera scene in Moonstruck. Set a little bit after FB arc.

PS: It’s a pretty famous song but if you haven’t heard Flower Duet before, I highly rec you give this rendition a listen, it’s breathtaking! : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M9NK-EbUAao

“ICHIGOOOOOOO! RUKI-CHAAAAAN!”

SMACK!

A day in the Kurosaki household was not complete without at least one collision between Isshin’s face and either Ichigo’s foot or fist.

“I don't know how many times I have to tell you, old man: QUIT DOING THAT!” Ichigo roared, swiftly kicking his father back to the other side of the living room.

Rukia waited patiently for Isshin to complete this strange ritual, a fond smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Oh, Masaki!” Isshin sobbed, throwing himself upon his poster. “H-how cruel, how unloving our son has become! And Rukia at his side, so pure and lovely! W-we truly have here a beauty and the beast!”

“SHUT IT!”

The dark-haired shinigami watched them butt heads and felt a vague sense of nostalgia swirl inside her. I didn’t realize how much I…missed this, she silently admitted to herself. Seventeen months had passed and Rukia kept herself busy with work--very busy. Too busy to stop and realize just how much she missed life in Karakura. But now that she was back, the realization was sudden and overwhelming; she missed late night hollow-hunting, the bustling hallways at Karakura High, she missed Keigo, Mizuiro, Tatsuki, she missed indulging in her schoolgirl act, pretending that she was human and truly one of them. But most of all, she missed him. That was a realization that had set Rukia very much on edge. Ichigo was a comrade, a partner, a friend. A friend she found herself pining for in those seventeen months. She recalled a saying she learned in the human world, something along the lines of “absence makes the heart grow fonder”.

Absence had only made Rukia’s heart confused as hell.

Though almost two years had passed, her relationship with Ichigo picked up almost right where they left off. They bickered, laughed, they understood each other without need for words. But…now there was something new. No, not new; it had always been there. But now....now it was loud. And hard to ignore. It was something that Rukia couldn’t quite name, but its presence was undeniable. It wasn’t uncomfortable...but… but it was there.

“What do you say, Rukia-chan? Oh, please say you’ll be joining us?”

Isshin’s question snapped her out of her thoughts.

“Eh? I-I’m sorry?” she asked, startled.

“THE OPERA! An old buddy and colleague of mine has season tickets to the opera house here in Karakura. He’s away on a business trip so he gave me tickets to tomorrow’s show. We haven’t seen you in so long, the girls would just love if you came! SAY YOU’LL JOIN US!”

“Don’t push her, Dad!” Ichigo said irritably. He turned to Rukia but didn’t meet her gaze. “Seriously, y-you don’t have to go. It’s really boring, the last time I went I wanted to die-”

“OH, BUT THAT’S NOT TRUE,” Isshin cut off gleefully, shoving Ichigo out of the way and putting an arm around Rukia. “The last time we went, Ichigo was but a boy. Though only eight at the time, he was so moved by the performance that he wept and blubbered all night long--”

“HEY! N-NO I DIDN’T!”

“Yes, you did!” Karin called boredly from the kitchen.

Ichigo hunched up his shoulders and scowled, his ears and cheeks an angry shade of red.

“I’d be delighted to attend this...this ‘op-ohr-a’, Mr. Kurosaki!” Rukia declared, a cheerful and sparkly smile on her face. “Excellent! Come tomorrow evening at 7, and dress your very best, my dear! The opera is a most formal event,” Isshin beamed.

“Whatever. And get your arm off her!” Ichigo grumbled, yanking Rukia away from his father and up the stairs to his room.

“Ah, young love,” Isshin sighed after them. “Eager to get her to your bedroom, I see? Yes, yes, I’m sure you have a lot of catching up to do, if you catch my drift--”

“SHUT UP!” Ichigo screamed over his shoulder. He hurried Rukia inside his room and slammed the door shut.

“Nice to see the family dynamic hasn’t changed,” Rukia said, a sly smile on her face. She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall alongside his bed.

“1000 Yen says my dad’s got an ear pressed up to the door right now,” Ichigo replied. He sounded annoyed but there was a humorous glint in his eye. He looked up and met her gaze. They both dissolved into a quiet, gentle chuckle.

“Feel free to sit, you know,” Ichigo said, gesturing towards the bed. “I know it’s been a while but time’s never stopped you from acting like you own this place.”

“No, that’s okay. I’m fine here,” Rukia responded, cursing herself for answering him a little too vehemently. Ichigo looked at her questioningly, and Rukia could have sworn she saw a very, very faint blush creep on his cheeks. A moment of silence passed.

Tension. That’s what it was.

“So what is this opera thing, anyway? I just realized I agreed to something I know nothing about,” Rukia asked, eager to change the subject and genuinely curious about this “most formal event” that moved a young Ichigo to tears.

“It’s, uh, like a play. But with only singing. Really loud, annoying singing. And fancy costumes. And they usually end in tragedy.” Ichigo said, scratching the back of his head.

Her amusement at his fumbling explanation made Rukia forget her discomfort earlier. She smirked and flopped onto his bed. “Sounds like fun. So this loud, annoying play moved you to tears, eh?”

“IT DID NOT-Hmph, *ahem*, It did not move me to tears, I told you already that I found it boring. And I SAID YOU COULD SIT ON MY BED, NOT LIE ON IT!”

“Oh, Daddy, th-they’re on his bed already! They certainly are fast, aren’t they?” a muffled voice that sounded suspiciously like Yuzu’s could be heard saying from the other side of the door.

Ichigo’s left eye twitched.

He swung the door open and Isshin and Yuzu tumbled onto the floor. “SCRAM!” He roared, shaking his fist as they hurriedly fled the scene.

_____

Giant, crystal chandeliers hung over the U-shaped hall, twinkling prettily in the warm, golden light. The house was packed with many well-dressed and well-to-do people. The euphony of various conversations and chatter rang pleasantly in the air. If Ichigo had been moved to tears by the place alone, Rukia would understand; it was truly, truly beautiful. She tilted her head back, taking in the glittering chandeliers and intricate paintings of flowers and stars on the ceiling. She must have looked visibly awestruck, for she turned to her side to find Ichigo looking back at her, an odd, almost tender smile on his face. She gave him a sharp elbow in the ribs. “What? What’s with that dumb look?” She snapped.

“AGH! What the hell, Rukia?” He glared, letting out a sharp exhale before putting on another smile, this one more teasing. “N-nothing, I was just thinking...the last time I was here as a kid, I remember looking up at the paintings on the ceiling and counting all the stars as a way to pass the time. I guess I was just wondering if you were doing the same.”

Rukia blinked. It was rare for Ichigo to divulge….well, really anything about his past and his memories. To share this random little anecdote felt oddly intimate. She felt her cheeks warm slightly and turned away. “Heh, no I wasn’t counting, I was just...admiring. She looked back up and couldn’t help but laugh. “Ichigo, there are hundreds of stars, up there! Did you really count them all?” He looked up too and smiled wryly, shaking his head. “Nah, the show always started and the lights would go off before I ever finished. But...I like that I don’t know. It’s this weird, unfinished mystery that just...stays up there on the ceiling, y’know?”

His amber eyes and fiery-orange hair glowed in the warm light of the hall. He glowed. Does he even know how handsome he looks in that stupid tux? Rukia thought, torn between feeling endeared and annoyed. And spewing out weird, lovely musings like that, too. What an idiot.

She looked down at the program in her lap. In intricate, gold cursive, the words Lakmé: Opera en 3 Actes shone smack dab in the middle. “Is...is this in French?” she asked. “Yeah, but it’s okay; you see those black screens above the curtains up there? They’ll have translations…”

The lights began to dim.

Quickly, stealthily, Ichigo stole one last look at Rukia in full light. She was already a beautiful woman but tonight she practically glowed. With the help of Yuzu and Karin, she had parted her cropped hair to one side and teased it into elegant waves. She had reluctantly let them put makeup on her, too, and Ichigo had a hard time keeping his eyes away from her lips, soft and painted red like a pomegranate. She was wearing a dress that Ishida had surprised her with a few weeks ago, a wine-colored sleeveless piece that gently hugged her form and flowed past her knees. Yeah. She glowed. It was annoying.

Y’know, I bet she knows exactly how good she looks and is only pretending to be oblivious. He thought. What an idiot.

The red velvet curtains pulled back to reveal what looked like a stone courtyard on stage, adorned with all sorts of plants and exotic flowers. But the set was nothing compared to the music that emanated from the pit in front of the stage. She’d never heard anything like this. Not on the streets of Rukongai, nor in the banquets and gatherings in Seireitei. What was it Ichigo had called them? An orchestra. An orchestra, an orchestra, an orchestra. She had to remember that word. How so many voices, so many different strange and wonderful-looking instruments, could come together and create a sound so unified and sweet amazed her.

A procession of people dressed in long, unstitched garments came onto the stage, singing words Rukia could not understand. A big man, clad in a costume beard and yellow robe, opened his mouth and began to sing a solo.

Rukia froze.

It was obvious what he was doing required much skill, but….he sounded...funny? Rukia narrowed her eyes and fought a smile, trying to reason with this deep voice that shook with such a fervent vibrato.

She heard a snicker two chairs away from her, and turned to see Karin in the dim light, her face contorted humorously. Rukia was about to join her before Isshin turned to his daughter with a glare so scary and dangerous that any humor at all in both Karin and Rukia was effectively vanquished.

So entranced was she by the costumes and lights and flutes and cellos that the dark-haired shinigami found herself forgetting to glance up at the translations above the stage. She looked just enough times to gather that this was set in a temple in which rites were being performed. The ritual ended, and as smoothly as they glided in, the singers drifted back off the stage, leaving behind two women.

The women, arm in arm, walked down to the “river” on stage to gather flowers. The one dressed in red turned to her companion and began to sing:

Viens, Mallika, les lianes en fleurs

Jettent déjà leur ombre

Sur le ruisseau sacré

qui coule, calme et sombre,

Eveillé par le chant des oiseaux tapageurs.

Rukia froze once more. This time, there was no urge to laugh. Goosebumps rose on her arms. Her ears tingled. What, Rukia thought shakily. What is this?

The other, dressed in a simpler, sun-colored dress answered her friend in a voice just as haunting and sweet:

Oh! maîtresse, c'est l'heure

où je te vois sourire,

L'heure bénie où je puis lire

Dans le coeur toujours fermé

De Lakmé!

Rukia clenched her teeth, maintaining a stone-cold Kuchiki expression while her soul inside shook and quaked.

What is this?

Dôme épais le jasmin

Sous le dôme épais où le blanc jasmin

Like flowers landing on the surface of a pond, their voices floated, glided, rippled through the hall, lighter than air.

À la rose s'assemble

The melody seemed to follow some invisible wave that drifted down, then up, then down, and down again. It was elegantly unpredictable, like the path a feather takes on the way to the ground.

Rukia’s throat caught. The swelling in her chest bewildered and almost angered her. This...this beauty was almost cruel. Her eyes felt hot. Her face remained expressionless.

Rive en fleurs, frais matin,

Sur la rive en fleurs, riant au matin,

I never did get the chance to understand what it is to live, Rukia thought. She had, in fact, died when she was only a baby.

I....could see traces of what life was in the youth and excitement of Ichigo and his friends...the sound of their laughter, their chatter about the future.

Nous appellent ensemble.

Viens, descendons ensemble.

With each rise and fall of their voices, Rukia felt as though her soul was expanding. The singers’ figures became blurry behind the tears that began to well in her eyes.

But this…this swelling in my chest, and the goosebumps on my skin. My throat...feels tight.

A tear broke free and began to trickle down her cheek.

Is this not the closest I’ve ever been to living?

Ichigo gazed steadily at the stage, letting himself float and drift with the melody. It was no wonder the Flower Duet was such a famous song, even to those unfamiliar with opera. He cleared his throat as quietly as he could and turned to check on Rukia. His jaw clenched.

Ah! glissons en suivant

Doucement glissons; De son flot charmant

She stood absolutely still, upright, her small, pale hands clenched into fists on her lap. She did not look at him. He watched with well-hidden astonishment as a single tear rolled down her cheek. She stared solemnly at the women on stage, blinking slowly. Her amethyst eyes glistened with the water and salt that filled them.

Le courant fuyant

Suivons le courant fuyant

A lump began to form in Ichigo’s throat. He turned away, back to the stage. He couldn’t put into words what she was feeling, but he felt he understood it. He didn’t want to intrude on her moment, but he also wanted to let her know that she was not alone. Even when they were worlds apart, he’d find a way to reach her. Slowly, his hand moved towards hers.

His fingertips lightly brushed her wrist, and traveled up towards the back of her hand.

Rukia kept her eyes fixed on the singers. She gave no indication that she even noticed his hand on hers. A twinge of disappointment and embarrassment stung him. I...probably ruined her moment. I shouldn’t have-

His heart stopped. Silently, suddenly, the slender, cold hand seized his own. She intertwined her fingers with his and squeezed lightly. She did not look at him.

Dans l'onde frémissante,

Dans l’onde frémissante

To this day Ichigo couldn’t say what the hell compelled him to do what he did next. Maybe it was the nearly two years of separation, or the swelling music and stupid, glittering, chandeliers messing with his head, or the way she gripped his fingers with such a quiet and loving intensity, or a mix of all of those things. Slowly, he raised her hand up, off her lap.

D'une main nonchalante,

D’une main nonchalante,

Rukia stirred, tilting her head slightly towards him. He brought her hand up to his face and slowly, gently, firmly, pressed his lips against her knuckles. Rukia’s eyes flashed wide open, and now she turned to look at him. Another tear rolled silently down her otherwise stoic face. Ichigo opened his eyes and looked back at her.

Dôme épais, blanc jasmin,

Sous le dôme épais, Sous le blanc jasmin,

Nothing was said, but a thousand words were exchanged between them. Ichigo lowered her hand but did not let go. They held their gaze for a moment longer, then turned their heads back towards the stage.

Nous appellent ensemble!

Ah! descendons ensemble!

#ichiruki #lakme #sooo sappy hehe opera makes me WEAK #im literally frasier #ichigo kurosaki #rukia kuchiki #ichiruki fanfiction #deathberry

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lovelylunarwriting · 4 years

Text

Haechan Soulmate!AU

The first words your soulmate says to you are the words tattooed on your wrist.

Ever since you transferred from your old high school to this new one, all you've tried to do is not draw too much attention to yourself.

The first couple days after you transferred in the middle of the year, you made a few friends and called it quits as far as climbing any social ladders goes. It's just not something that interested you.

There is, however, someone who is interested in you. And his name is Jaemin.

By some stroke of luck (to him), Jaemin managed to have almost every class with you. The only class he doesn’t have with you is fourth period history, the final class period of the day.

You don't really know Jaemin, but it seems that trouble follows him everywhere.

Trouble being his entourage of friends who are probably some of the most chaotic people you've ever encountered.

Your last school was a lot more boring than this, so at least these boys keep you entertained. And generally speaking they keep the entire class entertained.

They're all just so loud and not very low-key about their antics.

Which is funny most of the time but can get annoying if done too often.

Back to Jaemin though.

Jaemin has been obsessed with you ever since you transferred but is too nervous to talk to you- let alone ask you out.

Some of his friends however, are astonishingly bold. One of these friends being Haechan.

And Haechan (along with most of Jaemin’s friends) is absolutely tired of him moping around all the time wondering if you’re his soulmate or not.

Renjun: “Dude just talk to them. Then you’ll know”

Jaemin: “Respectfully- no thanks”

Jisung: “Fine but if you don’t do anything you’re not allowed to whine about it”

Haechan: “I second that”

Jaemin: “Ugh but it’s bothering me! They could be my soulmate and I can’t know unless I talk to them but I can’t taLK to them?? Ya know??”

Renjun: “No we don’t know, just do it. Even if you’re nervous”

Jaemin: “But what if they’re not my soulmate?”

Jisung: “True, what if they’re MY soulmate?”

Chenle: “Oooo plot twist…”

Jaemin: “They’re not your soulmate, Jisung. You don’t suit them at all”

Jisung:”Oh and YOU do?”

Jaemin: “I could!!”

Jeno: “This isn’t helping! If Jaemin wants to talk to them then he will”

Jaemin: “Thank you, Jeno”

Jeno: “...but also could you talk about something (other) than them sometimes? It's getting old”

The next day Jaemin runs into the school building early, and up to the third floor staircase, where the boys usually hang out before the bell rings.

He goes on this entire rant about how life’s too short and he’s gonna finally talk to you and confess his feelings.

The boys nod along and try to encourage him but… deep down they all know he’s not gonna do it.

Jaemin explains his plan to the eager listeners:

He’s gonna pass you a note during third period, since that’s the last class of the day he has with you.

Because then he doesn’t actually have to talk and risk saying something dumb. His logic is, that if you are his soulmate and he says something stupid, you might be pissed at him because that’s tattooed on you forever.

In his words, “I gotta make it count!”

Everyone agrees that this is an okay plan (Renjun claimed to have a better one but was quickly hushed), and that Jaemin should meet up with them after fourth period (the last class of the day), and tell them how it goes.

Jaemin agrees, the bell rings, and everyone goes their separate ways.

Jaemin spends the next five hours regretting his life decisions and desperately trying to refrain from nervous-puking up his breakfast (and later lunch).

Finally, third period arrives and as Jaemin walks in, you meet his gaze.

You think literally nothing of it, because you are more focused on cramming for the history quiz you’re gonna have to take next class period.

Why must you know every president and their political party? Because fuck you, that’s why.

Or at least that’s the thought that runs through your head almost the entire class because they’re going over Shakespeare and some other boring poetry stuff.

Jaemin though…. Jaemin is s w e a t i n g. Clammy palms, moist back, the whole package.

He asks the teacher if he can go to the bathroom (as an excuse but also because he feels like he might throw up his lunch after all), and slides the note onto your desk while you’re turned talking to your friend about how next period is gonna s u c k.

Jaemin leaves the room, and you lean back against your desk, unknowingly knocking the note onto the floor.

When he comes back inside (after like fifteen minutes of pacing in the bathroom and trying to not be anxious), Jaemin walks back to his seat but slows down when he passes you, giving you a chance to respond.

You though, have no idea of this boy and his well-meant schemes, so you just ask “You good, Jaemin?” as he hovers around your desk.

Jaemin blinks a few times, looks at his wrist, and sadly sighs.

“Yeah… I’m fine”, he says, and plops down in his seat.

He traces the words “Wait- if it’s not butter, then what is it?” on his wrist with his finger, feeling stupid that he thought you might say that to him.

The context wasn’t right at all, but wishful thinking got the best of him.

He thought about texting the group chat and letting them know that you weren’t the one, but decided it was too embarrassing of an event to have to write out over text.

You on the other hand, still blissfully unaware of the shenanigans going on around you, head to your last class.

Dreading the quiz to come, you glue your nose to your textbook until the very last second.

The bell rings, the teacher hands out the quiz, and you write down everything you just spent the past hour cramming so you don’t forget it.

You finish early enough, and walk up to the teacher’s desk to turn in your paper.

The whole way there, you feel like someone’s watching you. And when you turn around to make your way back to your seat, you lock eyes with one of Jaemin’s friends, Haechan.

Sitting down, you space out and think about if maybe that Jaemin is the Jaemin your tattoo is referring to.

Your soulmate tattoo mentions the name Jaemin, but you never bothered talking to the boy because it wouldn’t make sense for him to talk about himself in the third person.

Plus, Jaemin is a pretty common name. If you jumped up every time you heard the name, you’d never sit down.

Something snaps you out of your thoughts. It’s that feeling again, like you’re being stared at.

You glance over and see Haechan looking at you again. He mouths something to you, but you can’t make out what he’s saying.

The only word you think you see is “soulmate”.

Maybe he saw your wrist and thinks Jaemin is your soulmate?? But you’ve already talked to Jaemin before, just last period. And it wasn’t him.

When the final bell rings, before you can get out of your seat, Haechan glides over to the front of your desk, slamming his palms on top of it.

Haechan: “You know Jaemin has a big ol’ crush on you, right? It’s so obvious”

You: “I guess I do now, since you just told me, but I don’t see it going anywhere if I’m being honest”

Haechan: “Is he not your-”, he starts but stops abruptly.

Haechan stares at you, wide-eyed, and then power walks out of the room.

You sit there with your mouth agape, looking back and forth from your wrist to the door he stormed out of.

“You know Jaemin has a big ol’ crush on you, right?”

It- you didn’t think it would be about this Jaemin. He was always so quiet around you and you literally hadn’t spoken to him until today.

As a kid you used to get your hopes up every time you met someone named Jaemin, thinking someone they knew was your soulmate, but after the fifth or sixth Jaemin it became too exhausting.

You’d honestly low-key forgotten about it by now… because the stress of school kind of gets in the way of life.

BUT NOW WE’VE GOT A LOT TO UNPACK BECAUSE JAEMIN HAS A CRUSH ON YOU BUT HAECHAN IS YOUR SOULMATE.

Loud, boisterous, diva, Haechan.

Speaking of Haechan though, he’s trying to figure out what the hell to do now.

Does he tell Jaemin? Or should he just not say anything?

Luckily, by the time Haechan meets up with the boys outside the school, Jaemin hasn’t shown up yet.

Haechan: “Okay I have bad news and good news and I don’t know which to say first”

Jeno: “Then just say both at once”

Haechan: “Okay well uh Y/N isn’t Jaemin’s soulmate”

Chenle: “Yeah I didn’t think so because of the butter thing, but how do you know?”

Haechan: “Because I talked to them and they’re my soulmate”

Jaemin: “They’re what?”

Jaemin had just gotten close enough to hear the conversation, but he heard every word.

Dead silence fell upon the group, Haechan not daring to make eye contact with Jaemin.

Jaemin: “Honestly Haechan… congrats”

Haechan: “What?”

Jaemin: “They’re not my soulmate and I’ve known that since third period. That’s what I came to tell you guys, but I guess you beat me to it. I’m not mad at you, it’s not like you could help it”

A collective sigh of relief and some quick banter, then the boys head their separate ways home.

Jaemin’s relieved to finally know one way or the other, and Haechan is now the one who gets to be a nervous wreck.

He’s not nearly as bad as Jaemin was though. He’s overthinking for about half an hour, and then just mildly jittery until he sees you tomorrow in fourth period.

Before you can say anything, Haechan repeats his routine of walking right up to you and planting his hands on your desk.

Haechan: “Hi so apparently we’re soulmates but I don’t know you very well but I want to and I don’t know if you’re busy or like boba but on Fridays we go get boba and play board games and it’s Friday so I thought you might-”

You: “I love boba. And board games. What time?”

Haechan: “O- oh. I thought I was going to have to convince you. Right after school we head across the street to that new boba place. It’s usually just me, Jisung, Chenle, and Jeno”

You: “Okay, then I’ll just walk with you after this class, right?”

Haechan: “...right. Shouldn’t you be more careful? I’m inviting you to go hang out with a bunch of guys you don’t know”

You: “You’re my soulmate. And I don’t know you very well, but you seem like a really sweet person”

This sends Haechan into a blushing frenzy, and it's all he can do to not sneak glances at you for the rest of fourth period.

He collects himself a bit, and when the bell rings he escorts you to the courtyard where you see three mildly familiar boys.

You think one of them is in your grade, but the other two look younger.

After Haechan introduces you and each boy briefly introduces themselves, the awkward politeness fades away and what replaces it can only be described as anarchy.

“Did you know Haechan fell asleep during our choir concert while some girl was doing a solo and he snored so loud she shushed him?”

“Yeah and Haechan can be dramatic at times so if he’s being too extra just let us know and we’ll keep him in check”

“Oh remember that time when we were long-boarding and the path flooded but Haechan tried to cross it anyway? Legend says the board is still floating down the creek to this day….”

It became a shit show of “who can embarrass Haechan the most”, but after a lot of complaining from Haechan and threats to do this to them when they found their soulmate, the boys managed to stop themselves.

Everyone orders their boba, and you all play uno, jenga, and other games until it becomes dark out.

Jisung: “Shit guys, it’s getting late. I don’t wanna miss the train”

You: “Yeah and I hate walking alone in the dark. I should probably go soon”

Haechan: “It’s fine, I’ll walk you home”

You: “Really? I was right, you are sweet~”

Chenle: “What but Haechan you usually walk with me! Now I’m gonna have to walk alone!”

Haechan: “Go spend the night at Jeno’s then! Walk home with him!”

Jeno: “Yeah let’s have a sleepover~”

Chenle: “Fine but we’re playing mario kart”

The boys disperse, and you lead Haechan down the street towards your house, chit chatting the whole way.

Even though it’s been a short amount of time, you and Haechan kind of just… click together.

But that’s the whole point of soulmates, so you’re not that surprised.

He drops you off, but not before you ask for his number.

Haechan: “Wh- why?”

You: “So you can text me when you get home. I want to make sure you get there safe”

Haechan: “o- oh…”

You: “And so I can text you in general, of course”

Haechan seems to lighten up at this.

You head inside and immediately go to sleep, dreaming of the future you would have with that boy from your history class.

Oh and also Haechan failed the history quiz from the day before

34%. Rest in rip.

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