#i loved midnight motel did anyone else love midnight motel i really liked midnight motel

[keungking]

at long last, cunty doyoung of nct is no longer the guardian (icon) of this blog. now, let my mote (my beloved) era commence.

#i loved midnight motel did anyone else love midnight motel i really liked midnight motel #.txt #i had that layout for so damn long just bc they were the only good matching pictures in my phone at the time #header was the cat of a rapper i like with PERISH slapped over it (the cat's name is ''the fear of god'' so it fit) and icon was doyoung #perfect #i'm not even that into nct i just thought he looked super sexy #also actually the cat's name isn't the fear of god it's pogu which means ''muzzle'' but this is my world and i make the rules #(the cat's instagram account (on which the rapper roleplays as his cat) is thefearofgod9)

[deancaskiss]

Dean Trying to Get Cas to Dance with Him - Requested By Anon

The diner was almost empty. To be fair, it was 10 minutes until midnight, and most normal people were at home sleeping by now. But not them. Not when they were on a case. A case that was currently so stressful Dean could feel the tension pulling at his eyes.

Sam was slumped down on the other side of the booth, looking equally exhausted. And Cas was wedged next to him, one hand resting on Dean's thigh, the other flicking through a book. Anyone else would say Cas looked calm, composed, but Dean could see through the cracks; could see Cas was minutes away from ripping the book to pieces in frustration. He needed a distraction and fast.

Casting his eyes to the back of the diner, Dean noticed the only other patrons in the diner- an elderly couple- who were currently swaying together to the soft music drifting out from the jukebox. God. It really was an old fashioned diner.

Seeing the elderly couple was actually endearing, and knowing there was nobody else but themselves, the old folks, one cook, and one server, it gave Dean a little bolt of confidence.

"Hey," he said softly, moving his own hand from Cas' knee and sliding it slightly further down Cas' thigh, squeezing gently.

Cas made a noise in the back of his throat but didn't take his eyes off the page.

Dean tried again, fingertips gliding along the seam of Cas' pants. "Hey, look at me," Dean said lowly.

Cas finally glanced up from his page, frustration and annoyance dancing in his eyes. Dean moved his free hand from the table to ghost along Cas' cheekbone. The move instantly softened something in Cas, and he slumped down, melting into Dean's touch.

"Take a break with me," Dean said quietly.

"We can't-" Cas started to say.

"Yes, we can. Five minutes. Just one song," Dean said, casting his eyes to the back of the diner and lingering on the elderly couple.

Cas cocked his head, a look of confusion flickering across his eyes. "I don't understand."

"Come dance with me," Dean said, nodding his head at the couple still swaying to different song now.

"Dean?" Cas said, voice wavering on the word.

"Please? No one's here. The only people that'll see us are that elderly couple, and I doubt they'll judge. Please, Cas? One dance," Dean murmured.

"I don't know how to dance," Cas countered cautiously.

"It's just swaying to the beat, just like they're doing. If an old couple can do it, I'm more than sure you can, too."

Cas raised an eyebrow, darting his eyes over to Sam. Dean copied the motion, steeling himself to deal with Sam's teasing, but instead his brother's head was pillowed on the book he was reading; steady breaths puffing along the pages. Asleep.

Dean smiled softly, darting his eyes back to Cas and trailing fingertips along Cas' jawline. "One dance. You and me. And then we'll wake Sammy up and head back to the motel and get back to work," Dean offered.

And finally Dean saw Cas' resolve break. Maybe it was the fact Sam was asleep and couldn't tease them. Or maybe it was Dean's pleading eyes and tender touches. But Cas nodded, whispering a quiet, "Okay, Dean."

Linking their hands together, Dean quietly tugged Cas from the booth and they made their way to the back of the diner. The elderly couple glanced over, seeing their joined hands, and they both flashed them the warmest smiles Dean had ever seen in his whole life. He felt the warmth settle in his bones, and he turned to Cas, sliding his arms around the angel's neck. "See? Told you they wouldn't judge."

Cas instinctively wrapped his arms around Dean's waist, stepping in close. "How did you know?" Cas asked, letting Dean slowly start to sway them to the soft piano sounds drifting from the jukebox.

"Because I can read people," Dean said with a shrug, before leaning forward to press their foreheads together.

Cas fingers squeezed against Dean's back, and the angel let out a hushed sigh. "I like this," he murmured as they continued to sway.

"Me too," Dean whispered, leaning down and pressing their lips together in a tender kiss. They both lingered for a few blissful seconds, lips gliding together, and Dean felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest. He gently broke the kiss, moving to tuck his head into Cas' shoulder.

And together they moved, just gentle rocking back and forth, hands squeezing and presses of lips against skin. The music wrapped around their limbs, movements sluggish yet content, and Dean wanted to hover in this moment forever. No monsters. No death. No fighting. Just him and Cas and the soft floating tune.

One song bled into two and then three, and just like the elderly couple, they found themselves captivated by the music, softly twirling each other and falling back into each other's embrace. Cas was utterly beaming, pressing quick pecks to Dean's lips, and Dean never broke their swaying as the tunes played on and on.

It was a full half hour before they finally broke apart, fingers still tingling and the music still curling around their bones. And as they woke Sam up to head back to the motel, Cas leaned in close, whispering in Dean's ear, "Thank you."

Dean was about to ask if Cas was feeling better, words on his lips, but when he locked eyes with Cas, he knew the angel was more relaxed; radiating happiness with a red blush of exertion in his cheeks. And Dean vowed to get Cas back in his arms to dance as soon as they'd ganked the monster in town.

Tag List Part 1 Below- (please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the list!)

Tag List: @cas-deserved-so-much-more @hello-x-sunshine @bibelphegor @likepurplemuses @expectingtofly @neo-neo-neo @shadowywerewolfqueen @a-sweet-indisposition @feraladoration @xojo

@oganizediguana @paintdriesfaster @adsp-destielcockles @destielangst @im-your-huckle-berry @justa-crayon @dea-stiel @superduckbatrebel @destielfactory @miluiel-erynion

@y-yo-a-ti-cas67 @cockleslovesdestiel @toxic-nebula @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @enchantinghairdoherringwombat @proudace @galaxymysteryelephant @aelysianmuse @ramennoodles-dean-cas @you-changedmedean

@welcome-to-crowleys-hellhole @deansotherotherblog @trekkie24 @geo-val @dizzypinwheel @hermionevaldez9 @gimmeprozac @iamsherlockedondoctorwho @dickspeightjrs @imbiowaresbitch

@destielle @hopefuldreamers-world @organicpurplepants @dean-you-assbutt-cas-loves-you @shut-up-dean @sapphirecobalt-1 @eshaninjer @spnobsessed50 @mishka @holygoddessofvictory

@jayus-fandom-writer @2musiclover2 @rainbowscas @bennedict @cassiecasyl @jensenacklesruinedmylife @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner @chaoticdean @destiel-trash-asf @tlakhtwritesdestiel

@bri-winchester @50shadesofcockles @trasherasswood @spittingpagan @castielstolemyheart @becky-srs @phoenix13 @jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets @deancasology @top13zepptraxx

@love-neve-dies @good-things-do-happen-dean @tearsofgrace @thedirtytrenchcoat @a-porno-with-the-russian-mafia @on-a-bender @moi-the-bard @one-more-offbeat-anthem @naturallyathief @queen-rowenas

#dean winchester #castiel #destiel #dancing #drabble #domestic destiel #fluff #destiel drabble #long post #rambleoncas #tearsofgrace #supernatural #spncreatorsdaily #userpris

[wlwmarvelenthusiast]

More Than A Friend

Summary: A weekend trip with Carol leads you to realize you might like her a little more than you'd thought.

Pairing: Carol Danvers x Reader

Warnings: language

Word Count: 6,194

You crept into the bar. It was a rowdy place, even this early in the evening. Your eyes scanned the crowd, taking in all the different people that were scattered throughout the room. The football game was playing on the TV, but unfortunately, it wasn't really your sport. Finally, your eyes landed on a blonde sitting at the bar. You moved toward her, a smirk on your face. You didn't even bother to slide into the seat next to her.

Your hand touched her hip and your lips were right next to her ear when you spoke. "What's a beautiful thing like you doing all alone here?"

She startled a little, whipping to face you. When she saw you, though, she smacked you away, an unamused expression taking over the surprised look she'd had a minute ago. You slid onto the stool next to her, eyes watching as the bartender held up a single finger to indicate he'd be over to you in a moment. You only nodded in acknowledgment before turning back to the girl beside you, the smirk still on your lips.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" She rolled her eyes.

"Come off it, Care-bear, you love me."

"Christ, I hate when you call me that."

"I apologize, oh Captain, my captain."

The bartender arrived and prevented her from retaliating. You didn't even bother looking back at her as you ordered your drink of choice, glancing up at the football game that you didn't care about in order to not look at Carol. She finally snorted and bumped her shoulder against yours. It made you look back at her, unable to keep a smile from forming on your face when she gave you a hearty wink. She laughed.

"How was work?"

You shrugged. "People are idiots."

When you were sixteen, you'd worked a retail job where you'd learned just how stupid people really were. You'd learned that fully-grown adults had nothing better in their lives to do than yell at teenaged, minimum wage workers during their spare time for nothing more than a minor inconvenience. When you'd become an Avenger, you thought that would stop. You were incorrect. You might not have been a teenaged retail worker anymore, but people found a reason to lose their temper anyway- even right after you'd saved their life.

"That good, huh?" She chuckled.

"Are people nicer on other planets, Care-bear? Take me with you?"

"They're not, no," Carol huffed, sipping from her glass. "And the drinks don't taste as good."

You wondered what she was drinking that she seemed to be enjoying so much. It was colourful, and had, at this point, piqued your interest. You reached out and snatched from where it sat in front of her on the bar. You sniffed it first. It was something fruity, that was all you could figure. Finally, you dared raise the glass to your lips. The second the liquid touched your tongue you felt like you might overdose on sugar and sweetness.

"Oh, my God, Carol!" You exclaimed, setting the drink back down on the bar top and sliding it to her. "What the hell is that?"

"She got it extra sweet," the bartender said as he walked by. "Your friend's got a sugar addiction."

It didn't seem to bother her at all. While you felt you could puke from the sugar content alone, she was sipping it happily. You rolled your eyes at her, reaching for your own drink, much preferring the taste of it. Carol turned to you suddenly, the straw still between her lips. You watched as she lowered it back down, using the same straw to stir the drink around, the ice clinking off the side of the glass as she did. She sipped it again.

"What's our weekend plans, then?" Carol asked finally.

"Who says I have plans with you?"

"Oh, please. You practically begged me to come stay on Earth for a weekend."

"I did absolutely no such thing."

You absolutely did do that. Carol was away from Earth more often than not and you missed her. It wasn't like it was a crime to. So, you'd phoned her up and asked her over and over to come spend just one weekend on Earth with you. She'd finally agreed on the eighth ask, and now here you sat; on the right of the girl you'd missed so dearly, teasing her relentlessly about whatever that abomination was swirling around in her glass.

"We're taking my new car on a little road trip," you finally gave, sipping your drink. "Music, fast-food, and deep talks on the interstate."

"Snacks?"

"Snacks too," you promised with a chuckle. "And we can get a nice motel room or pitch a tent at night. Whichever you please."

You had to laugh at the smile that had crept over her face. The way she giggled in excitement, you had to wonder if it'd just been too long since her last day off or if the alcohol had gotten to her already. She waved the bartender lever as she finished hers. He placed a new one in front of her, and she thanked him quickly, bringing it close and immediately bringing the straw between her lips. You wondered whether the sugar or alcohol content would hospitalize her quicker.

"So, when do we leave?" She chirped.

"In the morning. Don't drink too much. You'll get hungover and I want to actually have fun."

She stuck her tongue out at you. You rolled your eyes in response, finishing your own drink and then declining another. You didn't want to be hungover when you were the one driving the two of you around. The bartender brought you a pop instead. You sipped on it, watching a bar-goer stumbled over with a drunk grin on his face and tapped Carol on the shoulder. He said something you didn't quite hear, but you saw Carol nod. He took her hands and dragged her onto the dance floor. You brought her drink toward you.

Carol was a flirt. She always had been. She was a flirt with you, your teammates, and strangers. She was also gay. This dance with this guy didn't mean much to her. You weren't sure if it even meant much to him. You couldn't be sure that he'd even remember this dance. He was absolutely wasted, and it wasn't even midnight. Regardless, he seemed to be enjoying it. His eyes travelled up and down Carol's body and you squeezed the glass in your hand a little tighter. You were protective of her, despite knowing she could absolutely hold her own.

When the song finished, she winked at him, retreating back to your spot at the bar. She finished up her drink and then insisted the two of you head back to your place and that you were right: she didn't want to be nursing a hangover while you were supposed to be having a good time. You paid the bartender and then linked your arm with hers, leading her out the door and onto the streets. She glanced up at the tall buildings around her. A smile had formed on her face.

"You don't appreciate how beautiful this place is."

You glanced up at the glowing buildings that towered above you and marvelled, for a moment, at the soft light that radiated off them. Your gaze was tugged downward, though, at a rustling noise. You were snapped back into the reality of your city as you watched a rat scurry along the curb of the sidewalk in the direction opposite you. You chuckled at that, motioning to it as you looked up to catch Carol's bright gaze.

"Surely some of those planets are far more beautiful than this."

She shrugged. "Some, maybe. Some are worse. Some are kind of alike to this. This has always been my favourite, though."

You might have understood that if Carol had taken the time to visit the actual beautiful parts of the Earth. But she was always in the city. She'd never gone to stare in amazement at a waterfall or glance at towering mountains. She had never seen the true beauties of this Earth, and you promised in that moment to change that fact. If she thought New York City was beautiful, she would be blown off her feet by the things you showed her.

"One day, Carol, I'll show you the actual beautiful things on this Earth."

"You're pretty beautiful yourself."

You smacked her. That was her flirty side coming out once again. It didn't mean anything. It never had. So, you wondered what that strange flutter in your chest was when she said the words. You ignored it, passing it off as a longing for a meaningful relationship. You hadn't had one of those in a while now. You probably just wanted someone to say those words to you and mean it. You made a mental note to sign up for an online dating site after the weekend had passed. It was too hard to meet people in your line of work without them.

"Yeah, I know," was all you gave in response.

When you glanced over at her, she had a grin on her face.

It wasn't long until you'd reached your apartment building. You smiled at the front desk as you entered the lobby and immediately made for the elevator. You pressed the button to the seventh floor and waited patiently for the doors. You knew Carol was suppressing a squeal of glee when they arrived. She usually just flew everywhere. Using simple inventions like this one had always gotten her more excited than the average person. To anyone else, an elevator was just a boring elevator.

"Can I do it?" She asked as you pulled out your key.

Carol really was just like a child, in a sense. Everything was so advanced out in space that these were the things she enjoyed doing. You pointed out the bronze key and watched her run ahead. She practically skipped the distance to your apartment door. She pushed the key into the lock and turned it, glancing back at you and smiling widely when the door pushed open. You smiled affectionately as you took the key back from her.

She may not have visited Earth overly often, but every time she did, she visited your apartment. Resultantly, she knew her way around. She knew, as well, that you didn't mind in the slightest if she made herself at home. She slid her shoes off and jumped onto the couch, pulling the blanket down over top of her and snuggling into it. You actually took a photo of the sight before you moved into the room behind her, lifting her legs, sitting on the couch, and then dropping them back over your lap.

"Can we watch a movie?" Carol asked, pleading gaze turning to you.

You showed her the remote you'd been reaching for. "Already on it, Captain Danvers."

"I take it back," she giggled, tossing her head back so that it hit the armrest. "That's worse. You can call me-"

"Aw, my Care-Bear!" You laughed, shifting your position so you could throw your arms around her shoulders.

Carol grunted at the impact against her torso. Once you settled, though, she breathed a little easier. You were both squished against one side of the couch, now, but the closeness was nothing new to you. You still had the remote in hand, and aimed it at the TV, managing to get it to Netflix. You flicked on a random horror movie, setting the remote back down on the coffee table in front of you. You nestled back into the cushions.

It had always amused you how jumpy Carol got when she watched horror movies. She was a literal superhero that fought literal aliens all the night and day and yet a ghost jumping out of a darkened corridor had her cringing away from the TV screen and pulling the blanket further up her body as if in an attempt to protect her. She would always adamantly deny it if you ever brought it up later. You would never show her the picture you had of her, fuzzy blue blanket pulled all the way up to her nose, eyes wide, as she watched The Conjuring. She would delete it off your phone as you slept.

Today, though, her nerves seemed to be calmed somewhat by the cup of tea she had clasped between her hands. She looked entirely content, sitting cross-legged on the couch with that same fuzzy blanket draped over her lap and a grey, ceramic mug warming her palms. The alcohol had clearly gotten to her a little, you realized, as you watched her eyelids droop every once in a while. The corner of your mouth tilted upward ever so slightly. She was wide awake a moment later.

It was a sudden jump scare. Even being half asleep, Carol was still paying attention. So, when the TV boomed and there was a flash and a scream, she jumped. The tea that she'd been holding in her lap sloshed over the edges, a large amount of liquid soaking into the couch cushions. You were out of your seat in an instant, reaching for the remote to pause. Carol was apologizing profusely, jumping to her feet and following you to the kitchen.

"It's okay, Carol. It's fine," you chuckled, wetting a dish towel and grabbing some paper towels. "Hey, it's fine. Really. Chill out."

Carol seemed hesitant to do that. When you lightheartedly flicked the wet towel at her, though, she finally smiled taking the paper towel out of your hand and heading back to the living room, pressing the paper towel into the couch and absorbing as much of the liquid as she could. When she'd finished, you used the wet rag to clean the beverage out. As you tossed the paper towel away and threw the dishrag into the kitchen sink, you stood back and took a look at the large wet spot on the couch.

"Guess we're moving to my room, then. Let's go, Care-Bear."

Carol nodded. She trod behind you into the bedroom, where you flopped onto the bed. She was lagging behind and you waved her onward to hurry her up. She finally jumped onto the bed and sat next to you, sliding her legs underneath the covers. You turned on the small TV in your room and resumed the movie you'd been watching. In the soft comfort of the bed, though, it seemed the tug for sleep was greater. Carol's eyes finally fluttered shut and she lay down against the pillows. You chuckled, turning off the movie.

You, unlike your friend, hadn't fallen asleep involuntary. You were able to head to the bathroom and brush your teeth before yawning tiredly and deciding to join. You padded back into the room, climbed under the covers, shut off the lights, and lay your head onto your own pillow. You smiled once at Carol's sleeping figure before you shut your eyes, letting sleep take you.

*

As hard as you tried to convince her, you weren't able to get Carol to stick her head back inside the sunroof. You weren't sure how to breeze was so exhilarating to her. The superhuman could fly faster than your car was going right now. The wind in her hair had to be a familiar feeling at this point. Plus, there were no laws against flying above the interstate to feel the wind in your hair. There were, however, laws about standing with your entire torso stuck out the roof of the car.

You'd given up a while ago. If she fell out, she'd be just fine. If she got you a ticket? Oh, there would be serious hell to pay. She'd agreed to that already. You'd honestly be surprised, though, if she did get ticketed. It'd be quite a sight to see: a measly police officer ticketing the Human-Kree Hybrid superhero. That sight alone might actually be worth the fine you would have to pay. By the time she'd pulled her head back in, though, blonde hair windblown and a smile plastered to her face, you'd yet to see a single cop.

"Have fun?" You asked, doing up the sunroof.

"Absolutely. You should try."

"Do you know how to drive?" You scoffed.

"I can fly a ship."

"Yeah, I'm sure UFO controls are much different than cars so I'm gonna have to politely ask you to stay the hell away from my car."

Carol only stuck her tongue out at you. She still didn't do her seatbelt up yet. She twisted her body so that she could reach into the back seat. You turned back to the road, but when you shot a second glance at her a few seconds later, she was popping open a can of Pringles with a large grin on her face. She bit down onto a chip with a giggle before turning the can to you. You reached into it with one hand and took a small handful of them, setting them down on the centre console for easier access.

"Where are we staying tonight?" Carol asked through a mouthful of chips.

"A campground up in a small town in Ontario," you hummed. "It's still a good few hours away. I'd ask if you wanted to stop for food, but I'd guess you've filled up on snacks."

She dug through her backpack. "Do I need this?"

She held up the passport you'd made her get last time the two of you had headed up to Toronto. Despite the fact that she really wasn't a citizen of the United States... or even of Earth, you'd managed to get S.H.I.E.L.D. to make you an exception for Carol. It was the perks of being an Avenger, and a close friend of Nick Fury, you supposed. To answer her question, you simply nodded your head as you reached for the Gatorade in your cup holder. She stuck the papers back into her bag.

"So, are you seeing anyone?"

The question almost made you spit the red beverage onto the steering wheel. It wasn't that you and Carol had never talked about it. She was one of your closest friends, after all. She was the first one you'd called when you'd realized your feelings for your last girlfriend, and she was the first one you'd called when you'd broken up. Carol wasn't someone you didn't talk about your love life with. It was just that it was completely and entirely out of the blue. It didn't help that the answer was still no, even after the long period of time since she'd last asked it.

You'd tried to assure yourself that you were just busy with work. It wasn't a lie. You'd been busy as hell ever since Loki's sceptre had inexplicably gone missing after the Battle in New York. But it wasn't just that, you knew full well. Something seemed to be wrong with your brain, or maybe your heart. Maybe it was just that your standards were practically in the clouds, but no one seemed attractive to you anymore. Not even the girl Natasha had tried to set you up with (and you were well convinced that Natasha only knew attractive people).

"Not at the moment, no," you finally admitted. "You?"

"On-and-off," she shrugged. "Just a girl from a planet called Xandar."

A pang of jealousy struck your chest. You were carving something- anything. You would've given anything even for something on-and-off just about now. Had it really been that long? You could hardly believe you were jealous of her. It wasn't like you to be jealous of something someone else had. You were supposed to be happy for her, not sulking over your own lack of a love life... or sex life. You forced a smile at her, wishing it could be real.

"Oh, yeah? Tell me about her."

"Not too much to tell," Carol said, biting down on a potato chip. "She's cute, funny, sweet. A little younger than me, but most people are," she chuckled as she glanced over at you. You plastered a phone smile back onto your lips and forced a laugh from your chest. "Her name's Alya."

You almost grumbled, but managed to bite your tongue on time. You resorted to ripping open a packet of gummy bears in order to keep your mouth full and therefore unable to make any snarky comments. Carol didn't seem to notice that, only reaching over and grabbing a green bear out of the bag. Though you might have been a little frustrated, you let her. It wasn't her fault that you were touch-starved and desperate.

"You know, we could spend this trip trying to find you a girlfriend," Carol grinned, tossing a candy into the air and catching it in her mouth.

"No," you denied immediately. You didn't need for her to see how weird your head was being right now. You were certain there was no one she could find that would be able to snap you out of this strange state of no one being attractive to you, yet craving someone. "I'm not looking for a girlfriend in Ontario."

"What's wrong with girls from Ontario?" Carol teased.

She'd been to Ontario once before. She'd pointed out that, though they may have dressed a little different and talked a little different, the girls from Ontario were just as attractive as the girls from New York. You'd had to point out that, at the time, she'd had a girlfriend. With Carol's ogling at girls on Earth, clearly, she and the girlfriend hadn't been working out well. They'd broken up two weeks later, leaving them both a little hurt, but not beyond repair. Even still, they saw each other for lunch or for a drink, but just as friends. It was admirable; the respect they had retained for one another.

"Nothing is wrong with girls from Ontario," you huffed. "I'm just not in the mood. This is supposed to be our weekend."

"What if I want to spend our weekend finding you a girl?"

"I don't. Drop it," you finally snapped.

Immediately guilt rushed to settle in the pit of your stomach. You readjusted your grip on the steering wheel as your gaze refused to leave the road in front of you. You didn't want to glance over at the frown that had surely taken the place of that infectious smile you loved so dearly. You definitely didn't want to look at it knowing that you were the cause of it. Carol was so incredibly joyful all the time and that was one of the things you loved about her. To be the one who had taken that joy from her, even momentarily, broke your heart.

"I'm sorry," you muttered.

She didn't answer that.

You attempted to swallow the lump in your throat as you tried to focus on driving instead of picturing the frown that was probably tugging at each of Carol's features. You wished you could actually physically kick yourself for what you'd done. She didn't deserve you snapping at her like that. She hadn't done anything wrong. You were just being pissy for reasons you weren't sure even you quite understood. You finally turned to her, but she was looking out the window.

"Look, Carol-"

"Hey, don't worry. Sorry I pushed."

You didn't deserve Carol Susan Jane Danvers one single bit. She deserved more than the world and you swore right then you'd work every moment to give that to her. Despite how you'd treated her for reasons she couldn't possibly have understood, when she turned to you, she was still smiling. As always, her smile put a smile on your face too. You turned away from those soft brown eyes to glance back at the road in front of you.

"It's okay. I'm sorry I snapped. I just... it's a long story, Care-Bear."

"We've got a long ride ahead of us," she tried.

"I don't know that I'm feeling like talking about it right this second," you admitted.

She seemed to accept that. You felt her touch your arm with her hand. Warmth seemed to rush from her touch, up your arms, and into your chest. How one person could instill such comfort into you amazed you. She said a few soft words to you that you didn't quite hear, but you felt you might not need to. You knew they were words of comfort. Just that knowledge was enough to put a smile onto your face. Your eyes flickered from her to the road.

"No problem," Carol chimed. Then, without missing a single beat, she changed the subject. "Hey, which bag did you put the Fuzzy Peaches in?"

"The green backpack."

Just like that, it was easy again. Carol didn't let you linger on just how upset you were for more than a second. She practically dived into the back seat for the backpack, reappearing with the orange package in her hand. She plopped back down into her seat, still refused to put her seatbelt on, and ripped the package open. She reached out and turned up the music when one of your favourite songs came on. You wondered if she knew that.

*

"No! That piece goes over here!" You insisted.

Carol frowned and handed you the long pole.

Pitching a tent with an alien who hadn't even known was a tent was, up until five minutes ago, was not easy. She'd practically rolled herself up like a burrito in the rain fly right after nearly putting the stakes directly through the floor to pin the tent down. You'd been guiding her, preventing any damage from coming to it. She was listening intently, making sure she did everything exactly how you said. She stuck the peg through the guy line and looked at you.

"Like that?"

"Yeah. Perfect. I think we're just about done, Care-Bear."

At that, she unzipped the door, diving through it into the empty tent. You reached into the trunk of your car, throwing the many pillows, blankets, and sleeping bags through behind her, not caring much where they landed. When you finally shut the door and ducked into the tent, Carol was beneath the large pile, peering out from where only the top half of her face was visible. You had to chuckle, grabbing one of the blankets and pulling it over her face.

Carol insisted she set up. She had you sit aside by the door, munching happily on a small bowl of popcorn as you watched. She carefully unzipped the sleeping bags and lay them down on the floor, putting the pillows atop them, and then the two comforters stacked on top of each other on top of that. When she finally finished, she gestured proudly to her completed setup. You raised an eyebrow.

"We both sleeping there?"

She nodded. "It's cold."

You had to give her that. You were practically shivering just from waiting for her to finish. The sun had dipped beyond the horizon at this point, the darkness of night did nothing to heat up the air around you. You clambered under the blankets, careful not to drop any of the popcorn you still held. You placed it next to you, letting Carol reach over and grab some as she, too, climbed into the makeshift bed. She popped a piece into her mouth.

"Up to talking about it yet?"

It was a genuine question. Carol wasn't pushy. That was something you could tell by her tone. She had waited patiently and was continuing to wait for you to be ready to talk about what you needed to talk about. She didn't want you bottling it up, but she didn't want to pressure you. She was able to do that. You glanced down at the red blanket that covered your legs, pondering her question for a moment. Then you nodded your head yes.

"I just haven't felt myself recently," you shrugged. "I would like to get out there and find someone, no doubt. Recently, though, it's like my standards are unmeetable. No one seems even remotely appealing to me."

"No one at all?"

"Nat tried to set me up with her Russian model friend," you said, turning to Carol with a grin finally on your lips.

"Nothing?" Carol said, an exaggerated amount of shock on her face. "You must be broken."

You shoved her. She chuckled; the offensive action having done nothing. She was inhumanly strong. If you'd decided to punch her, you likely would've broken your hand against her. She shoved you back, only lightly, so you moved a few inches away from her. She stuck her hand back into the popcorn bowl as you shuffled back into your place beside her. She was chewing thoughtfully, and you didn't dare interrupt her with the very focused expression on her face.

"Do you already like someone? That usually takes away the appeal of anyone else."

You stopped to think about that. You knew that could be the case. In eleventh grade when you'd had a crush on Adelaide Artenbaker, you'd suddenly failed to find anyone else attractive at all. Of course, Adelaide had eventually rejected you on account that she was straight as an arrow. It wasn't malicious. She'd actually given you a kiss on the cheek and assured you that, if she discovered wasn't, she'd let you know. It had made you laugh.

Now, you had to wonder if there was anyone that was making your stomach flip and making you dismiss anyone else. It wasn't the Avengers. You'd been in the changing room with Natasha, the Black fucking Widow, two days ago, and she'd strutted up to you in nothing but her bra and underwear. You hadn't even bat an eyelash as she'd asked you if you wanted to get some Chinese food after the mission (but you had said yes, of course).

"Yeah. Maybe."

Her words had knocked some serious sense into you. You definitely had a crush on someone, and it had definitely been impairing your ability to get out on a date. That someone was around so little, though, that you hadn't realized right away just how you felt for them. Maybe if she visited Earth a little more often, you'd have realized why you blushed so deeply when she'd crawled into bed with you last night or right now.

"Who is it, then?"

Carol had a girlfriend. It may have been on-again-off-again, but she had a girlfriend. You were not now, nor ever, someone who would come between that. You were going to let her be happy with someone who was making her happy and you were going to be happy for her. You plastered a smile onto your face and reached into the bowl of popcorn that sat on your lap, letting the snack cloud the feelings of jealousy that you knew now weren't jealousy of a relationship, but if Carol.

"Nat."

Carol didn't miss a single beat. "Liar."

You glared at her. "The fuck do you mean? Telling me who I do and do not like?"

"I know who has your heart right now. It isn't Nat."

This time when she reached for the popcorn, she leaned over. To support her weight, her hand came to rest on your upper thigh. You had to refrain from reacting. You sucked the inside of your cheek between your teeth, biting hard on it to suppress any sort of reaction that Carol would have noticed. It seemed to have worked. She grabbed a small handful and then backed away, the pressure of her hand disappearing from your limb.

"Yeah? Who is it, then?"

"Someone that likes you back."

"And who says Nat doesn't?"

You might have actually been offended if it weren't Carol you were talking to. You were good enough for Natasha, right? She was practically a goddess in respect to her looks, but you were something, too. Not that you liked Natasha in that way. She was a friend. Carol was the one that you cared about. Something about that sweet smile and that confidence mixed with an innocence she had after being away from Earth for so long warmed your heart every time.

"Fair," Carol admitted. "But you know, you're pretty oblivious. With all the hints I've been dropping, you'd think you'd have realized your feelings are reciprocated."

"What?"

"I like you, dumbass. More than a friend likes a friend."

Your jaw might have dropped. You coughed, choking on the popcorn that you'd been eating as you whirled to face the blonde. She had a twinkle in her eyes, and a giggle escaped her lips when she saw the expression on your face. She tossed a piece of popcorn into the air, catching it in her mouth. She chewed on it as she waited, arms crossed, for you to collect yourself. Finally, after a long drink of water, you calmed.

"Pardon?"

"You're an idiot," she mumbled.

Then she grabbed the front of your shirt and pulled you closer. You didn't fail to notice, as your lips moved against hers, that she moved the popcorn bowl so that it wouldn't spill. It seemed completely unimportant, though. You felt everything starting to melt away into Carol Danvers. Her lips were talented and kissing her felt like an intricate sport and suddenly you needed to breathe. When you pushed away, you realized what you'd done wrong.

Her feelings to you didn't matter. She had a girlfriend. Unless that fact changed, she and you didn't get to be more than your friend. You pushed her even further away. You knew she had the ability to, but she didn't resist. You backed off a little further so that your bodies were completely separated. Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion, but she didn't push. She even waited for you to speak first. Your eyes wouldn't meet hers.

"You have a girlfriend."

"I just said that to make you jealous," she scoffed.

You immediately got defensive. "I was not jealous."

"You were so!"

"Shut up."

She did. You suspected the only reason she had shut up was because she was kissing you again. It didn't matter. You were on cloud nine. You felt right again. You felt more right now than you ever had. Carol was exactly what you had needed for longer than you could figure out right then. She was clouding your thoughts and, honestly, you couldn't have cared less. You didn't want to think about anything besides how good her lips felt on yours right then.

You couldn't even find it in yourself to be mad at her for the little stunt she had pulled. You could only be glad that this so-called girlfriend wasn't actually real, and was just a part of her stupid plan. Without the girlfriend, you were free to kiss her as much as she would let you. Judging by how she was kissing you now, she wasn't going to stop you anytime soon. Her teeth grazed your bottom lip as she pulled away, not moving more than an inch from your lips, though.

The hand that clasped your shirt uncurled. She pressed her hand flat against the centre of your chest, pushing you onto your back. You had to chuckle as her knees pressed into the ground on either side of your waist. She kissed your nose once, scowling at the laughs that were beginning to bubble from your chest. You leaned up and kissed her lips for a brief moment, before using a hand to caress her cheek and tuck her hair behind her ear.

"What are you laughing at?"

"Nothing. You were right," you stated. "I'm kinda glad you were right."

"You're kind of glad? Can you imagine how stupid I'd have looked if I were wrong?" Carol laughed.

"Quite," you agreed with a nod.

You pulled her down next to you, wrapping your arms around her and feeling hers do the same to you. You pressed your forehead against hers, taking the time to admire her smiling face. She giggled a little, pecking your lips quickly. She didn't linger, though, having been preoccupied in reaching over your shoulder into the bowl of popcorn once more. She shoved a few pieces into her mouth and chewed happily.

"Care-Bear, what's more important: me or snacks?"

"You are a snack."

You gaped. "How the hell did you learn that term?"

She shrugged. "I hear things."

You rolled your eyes, pushing her away from you. She let you, reaching for her water bottle to wash down some of the salty flavour that had come off the popcorn. She offered you some water, which you accepted. When you finished and handed the bottle back to her, she pulled you close to her. Your body moved until it was flush against hers. Her torso was so warm you could've fallen asleep right then and there.

"You're more important."

Being more important than snacks, in the opinion of Carol Danvers, was just about the highest compliment you could have received.

#carol danvers #captain marvel #carol danvers fanfiction #carol danvers x reader #mcu #marvel #wlw #lesbian

[michals]

A scene with Five and Allison?

“You know,” Allison says, “At first I thought you might be a robot.”

Five looks up from the memo pad he found next to a bible in the motel room’s nightstand that he’s scribbling in, “What? Why?”

Allison shrugs lazily, swirling her plastic cup of cheap whiskey. “I mean, you did drop out of the sky right after dad died, looking exactly the same as when you left. Plus I can name at least three villains who’d probably still be happy to mess with us.” She gives a thoughtful frown. “Or would have been happy to.”

Five’s ready to argue about that, because of course he’s not a robot that’s ridiculous, but…then again, it’s no more ridiculous than anything else that’s happened. Besides, mom exists. Existed. Maybe. There’s no answer to that question yet.

Five twists in the cheap plastic pool chair he’s sitting in. “When’d you figure out I wasn’t?”

Allison smirks, “When you starting insulting Diego. I mean I’m sure plenty of them would want to, it was just a little too on the nose.”

Five has to give her that one too.

Allison pushes back from the patio table she’s leaning on and gets up from her own cheap plastic chair, leaving her still almost full glass as she meanders over to the pool Five’s sitting next to. She shucks her shoes and sits down to put her feet in the water. She gives a hum like something amuses her about it but doesn’t explain herself to Five.

Five turns back to the notepad in front of him, pen poised above it ready to write…nothing. Nothing worthwhile anyway. There’s no math to be figured here – the timeline’s just royally fucked up because they fucked it up. All they’ve got right now is this shitty motel they’ve taken up refuge in and a couple of bottles of alcohol bought with money from the 1960s. He gives up, drops the paper on the cement with a huff.

It’s gotta be midnight, maybe later, the motel is quiet and only he and Allison remain outside. Klaus and Luther killed a bottle of rum between them before anyone noticed and Allison had forced them off to bed but the light in their room’s still on. Diego and Vanya gave up the ghost a little while ago, mumbling goodnights. Five’s too wound up to sleep yet, he’s not sure why Allison’s still up.

“We did always wonder where you’d gone,” Allison says to him over her shoulder, and it actually catches Five off guard.

He hasn’t had three seconds to spare thinking about it in the scant two weeks he’s been back with them, his world too chaotic, time moving at a pace he can only do his best to keep up with. But he had thought about it before, in those 45 years, he wondered sometimes what his siblings thought happened to him.

He settles back into the chair. “What’d you come up with?”

Allison smiles, tilts her head as she says, “Klaus thought you ran off to the circus. ‘The Amazing Disappearing Boy’. He was always jealous you got to ride the elephants and pet lions.”

Five can’t help the small smile that tugs at his mouth. Of course Klaus would be jealous even though it wasn’t true. “What else?” He asks.

“Diego thought you joined the FBI or the…CIA or whatever. Or some secret underground cabal of superscientists. And Ben-” she shakes her head with a soft laugh, “Ben would joke you’d come back to us as a supervillain yourself and we’d have to fight you.”

Five does smile at that. Ben was sneaky like that, he looked like the quiet one, the shy one, but Five can imagine him teasing the others with something like that. Probably even came up with a fake scenario worthy of one of their comic books.

Five won’t ask what Vanya thought, he knows enough from her book that she probably never told them. “Luther?”

Allison twists around to fully face him, propped up against her arm. “Well one time he asked me if I thought you’d succeeded. I think he wanted to believe you had.”

He’d had an argument with Luther the day before he left, he thought it was because Luther didn’t believe in him but Five’d had plenty of time to replay it in his head and now he can’t say for sure what it was really about.

“What about you?” Five asks. It’s not adrenaline keeping him awake anymore but it’s a buzz sort of like it as he listens to his sister tell him these things he’d always wanted to know.

Allison pauses, watches the ripples she’s kicking up in the water. “I thought what we all reallythought: you’d run away. You ran out the door and kept running.”

He’d run too far, he hadn’t meant to.

“We thought you’d decided you didn’t want to come back, that you were sick of dad and the Academy and you didn’t want to do the whole ‘hero’ thing, so you found a new family and you started a new life.” She shrugs, her smile somewhere between sad and wistful.

He wants to tell her that’s not true, that’s not true at all. Not just because it’s not what happened but because it’s not what he wanted to happen. He already had a family, for everything he hated it was never them. But he can’t seem to make the words come.

Allison’s back to looking across the pool as she continues. “We imagined you in one of those nice little houses we’d see through the car windows. Ben and Luther would say you’d have a room full of books and toys and Diego said you’d get to stay up late, Klaus said you had ice cream for dinner every night. I thought you’d maybe have a pet, like a dog or a cat.” When she looks over her shoulder her eyes twinkle with amusement. “Although, honestly, sometimes I’d imagine you in a boarding school, in a house all covered in vines-”

“Like Madeline,” Five finishes. She’d loved that book at a kid, Mom would read it to them.

Allison grins. “Like Madeline.”

If only, Five thinks. If only he’d failed and simply refused to turn around, if he’d found a new home and a new family. Unlike her though, unlike all of them, he can’t imagine them. Can’t imagine the kind of family he’d run to, who those people would be. He’d never considered anyone else a possibility, he’s surprised now to think they’d thought he could.

Allison’s gaze goes distant. “Ben…it was different with Ben. We knew he was gone. But Five-” she pauses, her attention coming back to him, “we just thought you’d run away.”

He shakes his head. “It was never you guys, you know. It’s not that I wanted to leave you.” He hates how scratchy his voice sounds.

Her smile returns, softer this time, “You came back at least.”

Five lets out a harsh breath, furrows his brow. “I sure did didn’t I?”

Allison throws her head back and laughs out loud, Five is surprised to find himself grinning.

She settles and shakes her head to herself, another private thought that Five is more hopeful about hearing someday. She swings her legs out of the pool and picks up her shoes. “Alright, bed time I think.”

Five was originally going to share a room with Luther until Klaus had been shooed off with him earlier so now the only bed left is the other twin in Allison’s room. Allison gives a little wave of her hand like she expects him to follow like of course he should. They leave their shoes at the ends of the beds, and Allison turns off the lamp on the nightstand between them.

“I could still be a robot,” Five says, “or a supervillain.” Allison laughs again.

Five thinks he should be disappointed that his siblings thought that he’d just decided he didn’t want to be around them and that he’d been happy for so long without them. Disappointed that they were so sure of it that they’d never thought to look for him. But he can’t be because all their ideas were better than the reality and he finds he likes that they came up with all these happy fantasies for him. To them he’d lead a very different life. Then he came back and proved them all wrong in the worst way.

#tua fic #umbrella academy fanfic #the umbrella academy #five hargreeves #allison hargreeves #my fic #of course i said 'drabble' and it still ends up being over 1000 words #t.ua

[wave0fg00dvibes]

Sparks - Spencer Reid x Reader

Request: Could you do a spencer Reid x SSA fem!reader where you guys are on a case and he sees the cops flirting with you and gets jealous and reveals his feelings?

A/N: WOW I’m really sorry this was out so much later than I predicted. Life is hard sometimes, y’all! My stressors are gone now so hopefully I’ll be cranking out a whole lot more of these. 

Also, I never understood how writers could just start a story they thought would be short and end up with 6K words. Now I know! Whoops.

Please leave feedback if you have any! Lots and lots and LOTS of love, as always. 

------------------------------------

Your favorite part of any given case was closing it.

There was no rush or relief quite like the feeling of taking someone dangerous off the streets. No sensation could match handcuffing an unsub and watching officers escort them to police cars, never to wreak havoc again. Those days were undoubtedly the best part of being a profiler at the BAU. Those beautiful days took away the pain and anguish you so often faced as an agent, even if only momentarily.

Today was one of those days.

The resolution of this case provided the small town a chance to take a deep breath of relief. The killer was locked away, there were minimal casualties, and several hostages had been rescued and reunited with their families. All in all, it was a success.

Normally the team would fly back to Virginia right away, but a large, dangerous, looming electrical storm prevented a safe flight. Hotch made the executive decision to stay another night at the motel, and no one complained. After all, this case had been exhausting and draining for all of you.

It wasn’t until Morgan suggested a trip to the bar next door that the night got interesting.

Classic.

So, there you and Emily were, taking a trek across the street in the pouring rain, clutching your shared umbrella as if your lives depended on it.

“You know; I think I might be getting too old for this.” Emily nearly yelled over the roar of the weather. You laughed.

“Never! Who would be my off-duty partner in crime if not you?”

She shook her head and smiled at you. Strands of lightning lit up the sky and reflected in the many puddles at your feet. As beautiful as it was, you were not particularly comfortable holding a large piece of metal in a barren landscape during an electrical storm. As soon as the next inevitable clap of thunder shook the earth, both of you silently agreed to walk even faster to get to the bar and out of the rain.

“All I’m saying is you’d better start looking for my replacement.” Emily fired back, clutching the umbrella even harder as the wind blew the raindrops straight into your faces.

“As if I could ever replace the best wing woman I’ve ever had.” You shouted back to her. At that, Emily laughed out loud.

“Wing woman? Yeah, right.”

You didn’t have time to question her cheeky comment before the two of you finally reached the door to the bar. Emily immediately sighed in relief and you chuckled, stepping inside to relish in the warmth and shelter from the aggressive storm. Both of you stood in the doorway and took off your rain jackets, thankful to be dry and safe again.

“So, you’re telling me that if I found you someone at this bar…” Emily started to tease you, elbowing your ribs in jest. However, her eyes held an underlying mystery that frightened you. It was as if she was looking directly into your heart, reading your every move, discovering your deepest secrets.

Emily was one of your closest friends, but there was one secret in your heart that you could barely admit to yourself, much less another person. That was not something you wanted to dive into at the moment. It had been such a good day. There was no need to tarnish it with rambling thoughts and uncomfortable feelings.

Did that secret involve romantic feelings for a team member? Maybe.

She couldn’t know. There was no possible way she could know.

“I mean… I don’t know.” You bashfully tripped over your words, knowing she was kidding, but not doubting her willingness to embarrass you.

“Really? A gorgeous, smart, single woman like you, not wanting to find any company?” You blushed at the compliments, but shook your head in denial.

“Nice try, but I am perfectly happy being all alone.” You playfully nudged her shoulder. She let out a big laugh, hooking your arm in hers and starting to head toward the rest of the team at the back of the bar.

“Oh, come on. Don’t feed me that. We all know about you and Reid.” She subtly whispered in your ear.

And there it was.

She knew. Of course she knew. You felt your face begin to drain its color.

“We…” you attempted to launch into your heavily used “just friends” speech, but Emily put a finger up to your lips.

“Don’t even try that excuse with me. Just, don’t. Your self-appointed wing woman knows better.” She smirked and gave you a wink before releasing your arm and taking a seat between Morgan and JJ.

Rolling your eyes at her, you sat down in the only remaining seat, conveniently next to none other than Dr. Spencer Reid. You glared at Emily and she wiggled her eyebrows at you, fully aware of what she had done.

Oh boy. This was going to be a long night.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be around him. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Plopping down next to Spencer was the most comforting thing you had done all day. Though he was deep in conversation with Morgan, he grabbed one of the drinks in front of him and handed it to you without looking. You smiled, taking the glass as you watched his face contort while arguing with his friend. This was undoubtedly a conversation you did not want to interrupt.

You took a sip from the glass, and your heart skipped a beat. He had ordered you your favorite drink without even asking if you were in the mood.

Then again, he’s a professional profiler and one of your closest friends. Of course he knew you needed it.

That’s the whole problem, though. Why fix something that isn’t broken? Why go out on a limb for something that could destroy an already perfect relationship, both personally and professionally? The costs outweighed the benefits in every single sense. It just wasn’t worth it.

But all the rationality in the world couldn’t stop your heart from longing for the fairy tale.

“Hey!” Spencer’s soft, warm voice cut through all of the noise and broke you right out of your thoughts. He had turned to face you, cheeks slightly tinted red, probably from the heat of the bar and the alcohol. His ever-shining smile lit up his face. You couldn’t help but return it.

As always, you were amazed at how one shared moment with him could make every insecurity and anxious thought feel so small.

“Are you feeling better?” He asked, the furrow in his brow reflecting his genuine concern.

“Oh, yeah! Just a couple of bumps and bruises. Nothing too serious.” You assured him.

Earlier that day you had been shot by the unsub. Thankfully, all of the bullets hit your vest and not your unprotected body. It wasn’t the first time you had been in a shooting match with a perpetrator, but for some reason this one had really rattled you.

He nodded, taking another sip of his drink before proceeding.

“I looked at your vest. If that last bullet had been just 2 centimeters to the left, it could’ve dissected your subclavian artery, and that could’ve been deadly. Arterial rupture can cause life-threatening hemorrhages, pseudoaneurysm formation, and compression of brachial plexus.” His eyes lit up with excitement as he continued to talk about your circulatory luck of the day, blissfully unaware of how intensely it had scared you.

That was one of your very favorite things about him. He took any moment, any situation, any scare, and turned it into a statistic. He put all your irrational fears into rational numbers and ideologies. No matter what happened to you, or anyone on your team, he was right there to make sure you all knew you weren’t alone, even if that meant spouting off facts about arterial dissection in a bar at midnight.

This man was something else.

“Hey, pretty boy!” This time the voice breaking you out of your thoughts was Morgan’s. Spencer’s many statistics halted abruptly as he turned to face the summoning voice.

“What ever happened to that lovely lady you were going to ask out for coffee last week?”

His body immediately tensed next to you. Your stupid, irrational, unforgiving heart dropped into your stomach.

“Um, I mean… I didn’t end up asking her.” His answer was surprisingly short. You had never seen Spencer so flustered and lost for words. You looked up at Emily and saw the delicate look of annoyance in her eyes.

“It’s really hard to date in this line of work…” Emily attempted to defend his decision, JJ nodding and offering noises of agreeance while taking sips of her drink, but Morgan cut them off to press him further.

“Oh come on Reid, you haven’t shut up about her for months!”

“Yes, thank you Emily.” Spencer replied, letting some of the tension go. “I’m not sure I want to take any of my focus away from this job right now.”

“Oh whatever…” Morgan started, but before he could go any further you saw Emily subtly kick him under the table.

She looked up at you, eyes faintly conveying her apologies and intent to knock some sense into the oblivious man. He gave her a confused look, but immediately dropped the subject after meeting her fiery gaze.

“Anyway… are you seeing anyone?” This time Morgan’s question was directed at you.

Nope. Not happening. Where was the alcohol?

“On that note, I’m going to go get a drink. Anyone want anything?” You asked, grabbing your glass and standing up quickly.

Before they could answer, you were on your way to the bar. The first drink was strong, but not strong enough to numb the stupid, unreasonable pain and excruciating awkwardness of what had just happened.

“I’ll have another of these, please.” You asked the bartender, sitting at one of the chairs to help calm your shaking knees.

Breathe.

There was literally no reason for you to be upset. He was allowed to see people. Both of you were single, for crying out loud! There was nothing you were willing to do to make the fairy tale in your head a reality, so why was this weighing on you so heavily?

Breathe. For the love of everything, breathe.

He deserved every happiness in the world, and more. There was no reason for you to be so self-centered and deny him that. Who’s to say he even thought of you as anything more than a colleague anyway?

“Agent?” You slightly jumped and turned to face the familiar voice, recognizing the man sitting next to you instantly.

“Sergeant Jones. Hi.” You presented the best smile you could muster in the moment at the sight of one of the local deputies.

“Please, call me Michael. It’s so nice to see you outside of the unfortunate situations our jobs bring.” His smile was warm, and the hand he reached out to shake was soft.

“It’s nice to see you too, Michael.” You smiled, angling yourself to face him more directly.

Breathe. Distractions are good, especially when they are this handsome. Breathe.

His short blonde hair was combed perfectly, and his blue flannel shirt subtly brought out his eyes. No wedding ring. You could feel your heart ever so slowly begin to rise at the prospect of feeling valued, wanted, especially by a handsome stranger. 

Did it take your mind off Spencer? No. 

Could anything at this point? Who knows.

“Are you okay?” He asked, the true concern evident in his pretty blue eyes.

No, Michael. You seem wonderful but this is the worst timing.

“Yeah! Yeah, it’s just been a long day.” You lied straight through your teeth like a pro. However, you were captivated by his seemingly genuine integrity.

“You can say that again.” He chuckled. “This town hasn’t seen action like this in the last century, at least.”

Spencer could probably pinpoint the exact date of the last time this tiny town had a historic day like this…

NOPE. Breathe.

“How often does your team handle cases like these?” Michael’s deep voice snapped you out of your racing thoughts.

Okay, this was good. You were good at talking about work. It was basically your whole life.

“Well, we mostly handle serial killer cases. Sometimes abductions, things of that nature.”

Michael was a good listener, and the way his body angled toward yours indicated he actually enjoyed listening to you talk about your gruesome job.

“Cases involving children are the hardest for me, but it’s different for everyone.” You added.

“Yeah, I understand. I know our jobs are of different caliber, but I struggle with those too.”

You were enamored with Michael’s honesty and emotional depth in your short conversation. Compassionate, good at listening, and handsome? The other shoe was sure to drop soon…

The bartender set your drink down in front of you, but before you could pay her Michael handed her some cash.

“Oh no…” You started to argue.

“Please, I insist. It’s been a hard day for all of us.” Michael softly smiled at you. You smiled back, immediately taking a big gulp of the strong drink. Bring on the numbness.

“So, do you have any kids?” His surprising question caused you to choke and begin coughing profusely. He immediately looked alarmed, placing a hand on your arm to steady you.

“I’m so sorry, I just meant because those cases affect you so much… I didn’t mean…”

“No! No, it's okay!” You choked out between coughs. Could this night get any more awkward? You took a deep breath and drink of water before continuing, noticing his strong, soft hand was still on your arm.

“No, I don’t have any kids yet. It’s hard to find time to date in this line of work.”

“Cheers to that.” He smiled, lifting his drink to tap yours.

Feeling the alcohol start to kick in, you closed your eyes and smiled. Finally.

“Hey, I never got a chance to thank you for what you did today.” You opened your eyes to meet his, slightly confused as to what he meant, but he continued. “You jumped in front of one of my men and took those bullets.”

Ah, transference. He’s only interested because he thinks you’re a hero.

“Oh, that’s just part of the job.” You brushed it off.

“No. That was true bravery and sacrifice.” Michael turned completely toward you. “I don’t know many people who would’ve done that. Truly, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.”

...or maybe he’s just incredibly kind?

“Of course.” You laid your free hand on top of his. Thankful for the recognition, but far more thankful that no one had been harmed that day.

“Man if you didn’t have to leave, I would absolutely be asking you on a date right now.” Michael’s undying honesty once again caught you by surprise.

“You’re just saying that because I took a successful risk today.”

“No, I’m saying it because in the last five minutes I’ve realized that you’re smart, along with brave and clearly beautiful.”

All you could do was smile and squeeze Michael’s hand, for though the flattery was lovely, both of you knew full well that was all it could be.

Out of nowhere, you felt the air tense. Michael looked past you in confusion, and all at once you knew who was there. You could feel Spencer’s presence before he spoke a single word. Somehow you could tell he had been there for a short while, and could feel the inevitable speech coming.

“Actually that’s called transference, which happens when material from our unconscious mind is propelled into our conscious mind as we try to deal with the usually painful psychological trauma that we are experiencing. The brain unconsciously re-surfaces and re-enacts conflict-ridden experiences as if the past were the present and one setting were another. We transfer thoughts, feelings, and attitudes, especially about people who resemble others. We assign them roles once played by others. We take on old roles ourselves. All unconsciously.”

Both you and Michael were stunned into silence, staring at Spencer as if he were from another planet.

What the hell was he doing?

You sighed, giving up any hope for a single shred of happiness to come from this night.

“Michael, you remember Dr. Reid.”

“Of course, good to see you again.” Michael nodded toward Spencer, which he awkwardly returned.

“Sorry to interrupt. I came over to see if you were alright after that coughing spell and couldn’t help but overhear…”

“It’s fine, Spencer.” You coolly cut him off, begging him with your eyes to go back to the table and let you make a connection, for once.

He saw the look, understood, and promptly ignored it.

“We should probably get back to the motel. The others left when I got up to check on you.”

“I’m a big girl, Spencer. I’ll be okay.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes at him.

“I can walk her back.” Michael looked up at Spencer, attempting to analyze him, to no avail.

“That won’t be necessary.” Spencer looked him dead in the eye, challenging him. A sudden look of realization dawned on Michael’s face. He immediately stood up, grabbing his jacket.

“Wow, I’m really sorry for the misunderstanding. I assumed you were single.”

God fucking dammit, Spencer.

“Oh I am! I am. It’s not like that. Spencer is just a good friend.”

Spencer stood there, unmoving, arms crossed, stoic as he could be. Michael gave up the silent fight, putting on his jacket and turning to leave.

“Listen, it was really nice to see you again, agent. Thank you again, truly, for all you did for my team today. Best wishes.” He shook your hand, far more awkward this time, and nodded to Spencer before bolting toward the door.

The prior sadness couldn’t hold a flame to the anger bubbling inside you at that moment. You whipped around to face the ever stoic Spencer, who didn’t seem to care about the fact that you were pissed as all hell about what he had just done. Before he could say another word, you took your coat from his outstretched arm and stormed toward the door, not caring if he followed or not.

Thankfully, the rain had stopped, but the beautiful lightning illuminated the sky as you furiously stomped back across the street to the motel. Normally you would attempt to walk softly in your heeled boots so as to not draw attention, but you couldn’t care less in this moment. You wanted Spencer to know just how royally pissed off you were, and you could tell he was right behind you.

Who did he think he was? Swooping in at the last second to sever the one human connection you’d made all night? Breaking the newfound bond you started with someone to distract from what he had caused?

The anger coursing through your veins seemed to dissolve the alcohol all on its own. You were no longer drunk, you were furious.

Breathe. Assault of a federal agent will put your ass in jail. Breathe.

It wasn’t until the two of you were alone in the elevator that you’d finally calmed down enough to form a sentence.

“What the fuck, Spencer?”

He didn’t answer. You took a deep breath, trying to expel the burning desire to scream. It didn’t work.

Of course, the one time you truly needed his explanation, he refused to offer it.

When the elevator reached your floor, he silently followed you to your room. You fished in your pocket for the key, but before you could swipe it Spencer grabbed your wrist, turning you toward him.

“I’m sorry.” He flatly stated.

Sure. Nice try.

“For what?” You challenged, not breaking his eye contact.

“For not getting you out of that situation sooner.”

You laughed right in his face. Pitiful, loud, uncontrollable laughter.

“Are you kidding me? Seriously? Oh my God.” You laughed so hard you thought you were going to throw up, clutching your stomach and leaning forward. His arms attempted to steady you but you eagerly batted them away.

“What is so funny about that?” You could tell he was getting frustrated.

Were you really about to start this?

You were really about to start this.

“Guess what? Men are allowed to flirt with me, Spencer. Believe it or not some people actually find me desirable.” He was surprised, but not as much as you thought he might be.

He didn’t deny that this was what had struck the nerve and prompted him to get you out of the bar.

“Those cops are bad news.” He broke eye contact, further proving your point.

“Michael was kind to me.”

“He was putting up a front.”

“Why is it so difficult for you to believe someone could actually be attracted to me?”

“He doesn’t even know you!”

“And if he did he wouldn’t want me?”

Spencer opened his mouth to fight back, but immediately closed it, eyes darting between the patterns on the carpet. Your heart cracked.

“I didn’t realize you thought so little of me, Spencer.”

“That’s not what I…” He cut himself off with a deep sigh, putting his hands behind his head and looking up to the ceiling.

“Then what the hell is it, because I don’t have time for this.” You spat, trying to use your keycard once more. Spencer grabbed your wrist again, holding tightly even as you tried to squirm away.

“What is your problem?” You nearly yelled in his face. “I don’t understand why it is SUCH a stretch in your mind that a man could want to spend time with me. Why can’t you fucking accept that?”

This time, as you tried to push him off of you, he grabbed your other arm and pinned both behind your back, pulling you close to him so you couldn’t escape.

“Because no matter who it is, I can guarantee they don’t want you as badly as I do.”

Your entire, sober brain shut down. All at once, the world was spinning, and not from alcohol.

You pushed him away, and this time he let you go, standing at a respectful distance, allowing you to soak in his confession. The wheels in your head weren’t turning fast enough for this.

“But… that girl Morgan was talking about…”

“Yeah. That’s you.”

Wait… what?

You let your hands fall to your knees as you leaned forward. It was too late in the night for this, too wrong a moment for such a bold confession.

So… he wanted to ask you out… but didn’t? When did that happen? When have you ever given him an indication you weren’t interested? But had you ever given him an indication you were interested?

The madness in your swirling thoughts was interrupted by Spencer taking a step toward you. Oh no. Oh dear God no.

Your brain screamed at you to move, take a step, run away, anything. But your heart held its own. In your deepest desires, you had been waiting for this moment since the day you met him.

Now it was your turn to observe the patterns on the carpet. Each and every flower seemed far more interesting now that you were confused out of your mind and your heart was beating at twice its normal rate.

All of the sudden, the toes of his converse lined up with your own, and you felt his hand lift your chin to look him in the eyes. In the low light of the hallway, they almost looked golden.

He moved painfully slowly, as if you would bolt at any moment. Which, to be fair, if your rational brain had anything to say about this moment, you’d be halfway down the street by now.

But, it didn’t. His hands slowly made their way to your waist, delicately touching to make sure you were okay before settling firmly. Your own hands worked their way up his arms and around his neck, feeling every tense, trembling move he made the whole way.

It was as if the entire world was paused, as if everything was in slow motion except for you and him. For the first time since you joined the bureau, you allowed your guard to drop for a moment.

And in that brief moment, his lips met yours.

Alarm bells sounded in your mind as soon as it happened, and you pulled your head away, ending the kiss almost as quickly as it began. You frantically looked into his eyes, still clutching onto him, allowing yourself to let it sink in.

Spencer Reid had just kissed you. Okay, sure.

The part that really scared you was how much you enjoyed it.

Breathe, dear God, fucking breathe.

He held your gaze with a surprising intensity, letting his eyes tell you all the truths he was afraid to say out loud.

You were afraid too. Terrified.

Yet, somehow, standing in that musty motel hallway holding onto your best friend for dear life after just locking lips for the first time felt like the most natural, perfect thing in the world.

Were you really about to continue this?

You bet your ass you were about to continue this.

You grabbed his face and pulled his head back down to yours to kiss him again. Your lips met just as softly, but this time settled into an intimate rhythm. One of your hands made its way into his hair, lightly pulling, causing him to let out a deep moan.

Oh, no. No, no, no. You really liked that.

His hands splayed out over your back, attempting to bring you even closer as your bodies moved together.

So this was what you had been running from all this time, the scariest possible scenario you’d tried so hard to bury.

That fear seemed minuscule compared to the overwhelming feeling of goodness that came from being this close to him, feeling his soft hair in your hands and his beating heart against your chest.

The edge of the abyss grew closer with every soft movement and crash of your lips. The point of no return loomed, begging you to hold him closer, bring him into your room, and cross all of the lines your paranoid mind had set long ago. After all, rules were made to be broken and lines were meant to be crossed, right? By the way he hungrily pressed your body against the door to your room, you knew he was thinking the exact same thing.

But, in true agent fashion, your rational brain caught up to you before you could make the dream a reality.

You pulled away harshly, and he immediately removed his hands and stepped back. Your heart was beating so fast you thought it might burst right out of your chest.

He looked so beautiful like this, hair all disheveled, lips big, full, and thoroughly kissed. His eyes held the horror you had grown to know so well, the fear of ruining one of the very best things in your lives. You were positive your own eyes reflected the very same idea.

“Spencer…”

“I know.” He cut you off, closing his eyes.

“We can’t ruin this. We can’t go down that road.”

“I know.”

The charged silence that followed was most unwelcome. 

“Why would you say that. Why would you act on that?” Your accusation against his confession was less of an attack and more of a whimper, trying so hard to bury the longing feelings again.

He shrugged, analyzing the carpet once more. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

“Spencer.” You let his name roll off your tongue softly, gently, longing to somehow take it all back, to push what you had done into some secret place, never to be seen or spoken of again.

He looked up at you, the same emotions swirling through his eyes. He understood.

“I didn’t want to live any longer not knowing, I guess.” He softly admitted.

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came. There was no way to take it back, no way to fix this, no rational comfort you could offer.

There was nothing more either of you could say.

So, with that, he turned on his heel and walked back to his own room, never looking back.

You stood there in the hallway for a long while, completely stunned. It wasn’t until the subtle bell of the elevator broke your trance that you finally swiped your keycard and retreated to the solace of your room.

Somehow, in the midst of the war going on in your head, you managed to pack all of your things. You wouldn’t remember going through with your night routine or climbing into the soft motel bed, but somehow your unconscious mind led you there.

The tears of frustration didn’t start until about 20 minutes into blankly staring at the ceiling. They rolled down your cheeks and pooled in your hair, but you barely noticed. Every so often, you lifted your hand to your lips, unbelievingly, wishing for some reminder of what it felt like to be connected with him. 

How had your pride been so dominating that it thrust you into the very situation you worked tirelessly to avoid? What prompted him to act so impulsively? Why did you just stand there and let him leave?

Most importantly, how in the world were you going to resolve this?

To say it was going to be a sleepless night would be the understatement of the century.

-------------

As you got on the plane the next morning, Emily was the first one to meet your exhausted gaze. She got up from her seat and walked over to you, enveloping you in her arms.

“I heard the yelling from my room. I’m sorry.” She whispered. You sighed, hugging her back as hard as you could.

So, they all knew. Of fucking course they all knew. Even Hotch and Rossi shot you a look of understanding sympathy as you moved to take the seat next to Emily. JJ patted your knee knowingly, and you gave her hand a squeeze before laying your head on Emily’s shoulder. Maybe now, surrounded by your girls, you would finally be able to get some sleep.

Thankfully, your hope became a reality. The next time you opened your eyes, everyone around you had drifted off as well. You gingerly lifted your head, making sure not to disturb Emily’s fragile sleep. 

The plane was peacefully silent, and as you scanned the cabin, your heart ached with gratitude for your team, your family. Getting shot was less than ideal, but the love and appreciation it prompted was most welcome. 

You felt Spencer’s eyes on you before you even noticed he was awake.

Turning your head toward the couch he was sprawled out on, your eyes locked with his. He made no move to look away, and neither did you. 

Fixing this was a necessity, and you both knew it. There was no space for awkwardness or personal feelings getting in the way of this line of work. 

As always, even despite the awkwardness and confusion of the past 24 hours, plopping down next to Spencer was still the most comforting feeling. Looking into his equally-tired eyes provided some comfort. At least you knew you weren’t the only one that lost sleep over the incident. 

His eyes were always a home to you, no matter what state your friendship was in. This was uncharted territory for both of you. Simply sitting next to each other, enjoying the presence and absorbing the moment, seemed to kickstart the healing that was sure to follow. 

Before you knew it, your arms were reaching out for him, and his enveloped you. Your head immediately fell to his shoulder, letting out a deep breath you didn’t remember taking. 

“I’m sorry.” You offered, chuckling at the whole situation. He joined in your slight laughter, squeezing you a little bit tighter as you felt the glorious sound reverberating in his chest.

“I’m sorry too.” He whispered. 

You pulled away to look at him, offering a small smile that he quickly returned. It already felt as if 1,000 pounds had been lifted from the air around you.

“It’s just, I would never forgive myself if I ruined this friendship, you know?” You admitted, ashamedly.

“I do. I promise, I do.” He insisted. You knew it was the truth.

The plane jolted from sudden turbulence, and you quickly scanned the cabin to make sure no one had woken up. When you were certain the whole team was still in a deep sleep, you turned back to Spencer, finally voicing the question that had been hovering for hours.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” 

“Probably for the same reason you didn’t tell me.” He replied, smirking at you.

Fair enough. You relaxed at the reemergence of his straightforward attitude, refreshed to know that his brutal honesty was unceasing. 

The silence that followed held far more meaning than more words could. 

There was no easy fix here, even though both of your feelings were now out in the open. Romantic attachment was a recipe for disaster for anyone at the BAU, much less two of its own agents. You both knew that all too well.

So… what now? Logically, you were at a dead end. 

Then, in true Spencer Reid fashion, he genuinely surprised you.

“Would you like to get coffee with me sometime?” He unceremoniously blurted. You looked up at him in surprise. Suddenly, it felt as if every logical answer to that question had left your brain.

“I…” 

“Don’t think too hard, just reply.” He quickly added, desperate for an answer, longing for a means to an end of whatever this night had started.

“Spencer Reid… are you asking me on a date?” 

“Yes, I am.” His golden brown eyes met yours. No hesitation, no jokes.

It’s amazing how the moments you spend so long running from can sneak up on you in a single instant. You knew that every fear you had about taking this path with him was rational. Attachment was a death sentence for one or both of you, in its own way. 

Was your heart really worth that risk? Running away from your feelings for so long was exhausting. How much longer would you really want to push it all away?

Well… you were both inevitably going to die anyway. Might as well do it with some love in your heart. 

“I’m not asking for forever, I swear. Just for a couple hours of your time. I just think…” He started, but you held up a hand, hoping he would ease up for long enough to let you answer.

Were you really about to take this leap?

“I would love to.”

Damn right you were.

His surprised smile was blinding, and you couldn’t help but match it. 

This time, you barely noticed the turbulence when the cabin fell silent. Both of you sunk back into your seats, relief flooding the air. The million thoughts constantly circling in your head all stopped for a single moment, allowing you to finally, blissfully, breathe.

“You know, for two profilers, we really should have caught this sooner.” Your tired eyes began to fall closed again, finally feeling the full weight of the night lift from your shoulders.

“Yes, but as two emotional repressors, I think we did a pretty great job.” Spencer’s sweet, beautiful voice brought you back, and you couldn’t help but let out a joyful laugh at his sassy retort.

Touché, Reid.

You silently scooted closer to him on the couch, laying your head on his shoulder and letting sleep overtake you once more. 

“I’m not asking for forever.”

His words, meant for comfort and persuasion in the moment, replayed in your mind as his arms encircled you.

“I’m not asking for forever.”

No, love. Not just yet.

#spencer reid #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #angst #spencer reid angst

[iamdunn]

Miraculous Flash Forward Part 5: Return to Paris

A Miraculous Fan-Fic

Written by 

AJ Dunn

Adrien pulled his coat on tight around his shoulders. It was a freezing winter night as he made his way back home. He avoided the urge to transform, though it would be quicker to scale the roof tops than trying to walk. It wasn’t the best idea for the tiny Kwami who was already feeling a chill. Now that Fu is gone, there was no one to heal the Kwami if he got sick. It’s not like there was a listing for guardians. 

The metro had already stopped running for the night but Adrien made his way home. Plagg didn’t waste any time flying off to sit on the heater to warm himself. Adrien pulled the Manchego from the grocery bag he was carrying and broke off a large chunk then tossed it into the air. Like magic, it disappeared into the Kwami’s mouth. Adrien tore up the package that came today It was a fleece Ladybug footed onesie with a zipper up the front. 

“It’s here Plagg.” Adrien beamed. He had created a fake social media account and used it to message Marinette. He was surprised that she responded happily to his request for the commission of a onesie. He wanted to feel close to her again, but he couldn’t let her know it was him. He stripped down right in the seating area and slipped the fuzzy thing on. It fit perfectly. He kicked the box to the side but realized there was something else in it. He moved the tissue paper to the side and found a fleece black garment folded up. It had the red trimming same as her costume design. He pulled it out and found it was a Cat Noir footed onesie with a hood and ears. The feet even had paw prints on the bottom. 

OH Plagg.” he called holding the onesie up. “Look what I got.” waved the onesie around like a child on Christmas. A holiday he’s not had the pleasure of really celebrated since his mom went into a coma. Even while living with Amelie he had avoided it as a sad reminder of his parents. 

“Think you dropped this.” Plagg picked up a piece of paper. It was a pink polka dot stationery folded in half. He opened it up and read the note tossing the Cat onesie over his shoulder. 

“There is no Ladybug, without her Cat Noir” 

It was a simple statement, but it brought Adrien to tears. He dropped heavily onto the couch letting the letter fall from his hands. 

“You know.” Plagg started. “It’s only 5 months until the 5-year reunion. Will you go?” 

“At this point, I doubt they would want me to come.” Adrien surrendered to stood up and headed for bed. Adrien’s phone dinged a new notification as he laid silently on his bed. He picked it up. It was another post on Alya’s Lady blog. 

“It’s 5 months away from the 5 year anniversary of the defeat of Hawk Moth. Now that Paris has finally begun to heal from the pain caused by this villain, the citizens have been asking if our saviors would come together for a celebration. So I managed to rope Ladybug herself into an interview.” The camera zoomed at showing Alya sitting in a room with two armchairs and a simple round table between them. Ladybug sat next to her.

“Thank you for coming Ladybug.”

“Thank you for having me.” Ladybug smiled. She was so beautiful. Her midnight hair had grown out and was no longer in her customary pigtails. 

“First of all, the defeat of Hawk Moth was quite the feat.” 

“That is an understatement.” her serious face looked from Alya to the camera and back. 

“How well do you think the people of Paris have recovered from it? Do you think they are ready for a celebration like this?”

“I think some of us still suffer certain losses even in the wake of Hawk Moths final attack.” Ladybug was looking at the screen now. 

“Are you referring to the disappearance of Cat Noir?” Ladybug closed her eyes and drew a fist to her chest. 

“There is no Ladybug without Cat Noir.” She said looking into the camera again. “Where ever you are if you are watching. Cat it’s time to come home.” tears jerked at his heart as he tossed his phone down on the bed and walked to the railing overlooking at his seating area.

“Stayed tuned for an interview with Marinette, the class president of the class who graduated during the final attack of Hawk Moth.” Adrien turned around and found Plagg holding the phone watching the blog. 

“Must you watch that?” Adrien asked irritated.

‘What’s wrong, afraid you’ll lose the battle and get on a place?” Plagg egged him on. Adrien shook his head and turned back to his bed. He took the phone and went downstairs. Plagg turned the TV on and Adrien mirrored the phone to it. Suddenly there was Marinette on the big screen. He was wearing a cute dress, a black coated top with a flared pink Polka dot skirt. She did love her polka dots. There was a little black kitten embroidered into the skirt batting at, a ladybug? 

“Is that…” Adrien said looking closer at her skirt.

“An ode to Ladybug and Cat Noir?” Plagg finished. “I think it is.”

“Marinette, it’s been nearly 5 years since your class graduation was interrupted by the final attack of Hawk Moth, how do you think your classmates are fairing today?”

“I can’t speak for all of them, but those who I have been in contact with are really looking forward to it. In fact, they are excited and hopeful to see each other again, and the superheroes that saved us.” 

“After 5 years it’s no surprised that we have lost contact with some of our classmates, so how many have you spoken with?”

“All, but one.” the downcast look on her face spoke to her heart’s disposition regarding Adrien’s disappearance. “After that past four years, and all the searching on the internet, they have been no sign of our missing classmate. If you or anyone who know have any idea where our beloved friend has gone, please, let him know we are his family and we miss him.” Adrien turned the television off and went to bed. 

The closer it came to the reunion the more his phone alerted him to updates of Marinette and Alya preparing for the festivities. Marinette had always given her entire self to her friends, helping them, and picnics, how could Adrien have not seen what a true superhero she was and she didn’t even need a mask. 

Adrien picked up his mail in the mailroom then headed out to the school. It was spring now, and only a week away from the reunion. He noticed a thick envelope with a card inside. He opened it as he sat on the metro. It was an invitation to the reunion. Addressed to him. He checked the address and noticed a label had been placed on top of the original label. Thanks, Amelie. Or Emelie. They were both now living together, though Adrien hadn’t spoken with either. Emelie was still incoherent though conscious and living at the manor with Amelie. Adrien looked over the card again and noticed a finally written note in the corner of the card. 

“I’m still waiting for your answer.” He knew Marinette’s handwriting all too well. He smiled as his heart warmed at the message. 

“I will go,” he said out loud, hoping only Plagg heard him from his pocket. Adrien had a lot of arrangements to make if he was to go. He had grounds to maintain. He would need to put someone else in charge of these tasks. Adrien wasn’t sure how long he would stay, but he would start with a week just in case. He was surprised to find someone was at the temple when he arrived. An older man was cleaning up the grounds as Adrien walked up. 

“Laoshi Mao?” the man asked. “I am Orisuma.” 

“I thank you for your hard work, what brings you?” Adrien asked. 

“I had been noticing you doing all this work on your own. Such a hard working young man” Orisuma offered. “I have been released from my job and have nothing to do during the day.” Adrien smiled.

“You have come at the right time.” Adrien motioned for the man to follow him. He keyed open the temple and the two walked inside. 

“I have to go away for a few days, and I was just thinking to myself this morning how I need someone to tend to the grounds until I return.” Adrien walked him and around showing him all of the tasks he had to carry out every day and the onles that only needed to be done weekly. Since classes were still on hold for another couple weeks due to the mourning of Cheng Sifu, there wasn’t laundry. Many of the students left their yi-fu here. 

“I would be happy to provide this survice to you, if you will allow me to continue when you return.” Adrien smiled at him.

“I would be honored to have your aid.” Feeling at ease and knowing he had nothing else to do for the day he returned home to prepare for his trip. His excited and nerves argued in his stomach as he arranged his flight, and packed his bags.

“Felix,” He said on the phone as his cousin answered. “I’ll be on a plane this evening for Paris.” A silence on the other side of the phone told him Felix was surprised.

“Wow, what brought this on?” Felix must be so busy with work that he hasn’t been following the buzz. 

“The reunion is this Saturday, and I have been invited.” 

“Are you finally ready to face them?”

“I am not sure, but what better time to do so.” Adrien gulped trying to not lose his nerve.

“Well, are there any arrangements you would like me to make on my end?” 

“Just see that my room is ready.” 

“You plan to...stay there.” the hesitation in Felix’s voice reverberated Adrien’s own hesitation.

“It makes sense.” Adrien tried to justify it, rather then getting a motel. “People would ask to many questions why the Heir to Agreste manor stays in a hotel instead of his own home.” 

“I see your point.”

“Besides, it’s been 5 years, you’d think a man would have gotten over such a thing by now.” He wasn’t sure he was quite yet, but the prospect of finding out, while it made him wince in emotional pain, it also lightened his heart to the prospect of finally finding out who the love of his life was. His Lady.

“Pick me up at the airport.” Adrien said before they ended the call. Adrien checked the refrigerator for anything that would spoil while he was gone. Aside from cheese which would sustain, he had very little else. His evening meal was still made with Cheng Sifu. Ah, he remembered. He picked up his phone and called him.

“I will be going back to Paris for a week, so I won’t be coming in.” He heard Cheng make some sound on the other end of the line, it sounded like a cheer. 

“You say hello to my nieces for me while you are there.” Another cheer came from the other end of the line. “Before you go, I would like to send them a treat if you don’t mind picking it up.” Adrien agreed and hung up the phone. 

The box was larger than Adrien had expected, but not to large to fit in the back seat of his cab. Luckily he only carried one suitcase and a carry on bag. Mostly for the snacks Plagg would eat on the plane. It was a good thing Kwami’s couldn’t be seen or heard through technology. Otherwise there would be some explaining to do at airport security. He checked the box and suit case then found a seat at the boarding gate to wait for his boarding call. He had a while to wait as he had been in a hurry to get their that he arrived an hour early. Sitting in a nearly empty waiting area where no one else could see him he pulled out his phone holding it up to his head as he pretended to be on the phone.

“Who do you think I should visit first.” he asked Plagg as he used the voice to cover the secret conversation. 

“I’d visit the Bakery first, they have amazing snacks and or Leons Cheese store for some yummy Camembert.” Plagg was more excited than anything at the prospect of the snacks. 

“I can’t go to the bakery first” Adrien gupled. “What if Marinette is there?” 

“She said she wants you to come home.” Plagg reminded him.

“She wants answers, and I doubt my answer will be good enough, Plagg I ran away like a child.” 

“Well, you were in a very unique situation Adrien. No one would blame you for reacting like that.” Plagg was just happy to be going home. “You told Felix to stock up on cheese right.” 

“I think we can handle that on our own, we don’t need someone else doing everything for us anymore.” Adrien had made himself into an independent man. He didn’t want someone preparing his meals for him, or buying his clothes. That was Adrien Agreste and he wasn’t that man anymore. 

“I know the first person I want to see, and I know exactly how to ask her for forgiveness.” Adrien had been following the news in Paris and keeping up with everyone from a distance. It was Ladybug and Marinette he owed the most too, and he would start with Ladybug.

Adrien shoved the box into the back seat of Felix’s car then the suit case. He climbed into the front seat. His hood was still pulled over his head hiding his face. A common thing while he was in public. 

“Will be we making a formal announcement at any time.” Felix asked. 

“Is that wise?” 

“You will be attending your high school reunion. And no matter what I say, I can’t erase Adrien Agreste or take away their memory of you.” Felix had played off to the press that he was the face of the Agreste brand saying that there was no Adrien Agreste. It wasn’t a lie, Adrien Agreste no longer existed but that was only to give him the privacy to recovery form what his father had done to this city. The Graham De Vanily Brand was a refreshing new start for the former Agreste brand and they needed to make sure no scandals rose up to destroy that image. 

“Transperency is important here. If the media got wind of a secret like this, say, you showing up to a high school reunion, it could be bad for the company’s image.” 

“Can it wait until Saturday. I have some sleuthing to do without a bunch of people showing up.” Adrien asked. His stomach began to tie in knots at the thought of Nino showing up on his door, or even worse, Alya. That girl could be scary at times, and he knew Marinette would have told him about the last conversation they had. He couldn’t bear it. 

“Fine.” Felix huffed. “I will contact Marinette to arrange a formal announcement at the reunion, so you can make your return public and televised.” His face burned at the thought of such a public re-entrance as his heart skipped a beat. 

“If you insist.” He forced a smile as they pulled through the gates of the Agreste Manor. The insignia on the gate as well as all over the house spoke to Gabriel as the symbol was a G inside of a circle. 

“I wish we could change that.” Adrien said.

“As long as Emelie lives, we can’t the house is hers.” Adrien didn’t know if that made it any better. 

“She can have it.” Adrien thought. “I think I am happy in Shanghai.” 

“What if things work out with you and…” Felix stopped the car infront of the entrance. “Marinette?”

“What makes you think I even have a chance with her after all these years?” Adrien looked at him. “You said yourself she stopped asking about me awhile ago.”

“Ask the same question and get the same answer too many times, people tend to stop asking.” Felix was right. Adrien pulled his suit case out of the back seat then leaned into the open window. 

“Would you mind taking that to Tom and Sabine’s bakery, it’s a gift from Sabine’s uncle.” 

“Shall I tell them you brought it for them?” Felix gave a mischievous smile then pulled away without an answer. 

“Please don’t.” Adrien said to himself as he watched Felix drive away. He carried his bacg into the house hoping no one saw him. Felix had even excused the staff for the entire week as Adrien had requested. If Emelie never recovered, this house would become his officially, even though she was a year away from being declared dead before she was found in the basement of the manor. His bedroom was the same as the last time he had been in it. It had been cleaned but everything else was still the same. Including the fact that there were clothes still in the closets. He had bever been ablet to even pack his stuff. 

“I don’t think any of it will fit anymore.” Plagg laughed then flew to his cheese fridge. It was a small fridge and was now empty. Plagg sighed in sadness. 

“Shall we head out to Leons?” Adrien asked him. Adrien walked to the car garage. There were sever cars in their. He opened the lock box by the entry door and fished for a set of keys, there were three cars in their a tiny black coup, a silver sadan, and a black sadan. He picked up a set of keys and clicked the key fob to unlock the doors. The lights on the black sadan lit up. He clicked the lock but and put them back. Another key fob lit up the lights on the coup. He smiled then climbed inside. He had never driven this car. He had only ever been allowed to drive the silver one, but generally he always had his body guard drive him around. 

He had a little bit of shopping to do so he started with Leon’s cheese store, then went to the market to get the supplies for dinner. He intended this to be a picnic unlike anything she has ever had before. 

#miraculous fandom #ladynoir #miraculous chat noir #adrienette #miraculous ladybug #miraculous world #marichat #felix graham de vanily #miraculous adrien #miraculous fanfic

[ladyhallen]

Colonnello’s Terrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day part 2

How Reborn and Harry met and fell in love

It was the sleep deprivation, Harry would use as an excuse. That and how god awfully confused she had been feeling.

It wasn’t a nice thing, feeling that confused, and Harry was more confused than most.

The world she had landed on had magic, thank Merlin, enough that she her potions weren’t inert and her wand didn’t turn brittle. It just felt strangely hot, for magic. Magic wasn’t supposed to feel hot and coupled with the complete absence of Diagon Alley or the Leaky Cauldron, Harry was confused. Where had magic gone?

The answer, her sleep deprived ass mused, landed on her doorstep, bleeding, concussed and with several broken fingers and a broken leg, several lacerations on his back and a broken nose. It was a testament to how threatening Voldemort and  Death had been that a deadly weapon aimed at her barely made her heart beat faster.

It was a wonder that the man could even hold his gun and aim it at her.

“Do not call the hospital,” the bloody man commanded, swaying in place but hands steady and aiming at her head.

Harry blinked slowly. She could see it, the magic. It swirled around him like yellow fire, licking his wounds closed very slowly. If it continued, it might heal his bones wrong, then she’d need to re-break things and that just wouldn’t be fun for everyone.

“Alright,” she agreed. “But won’t you come in? You’re alarming the neighbors.”

The man swayed in place for a couple more beats before agreeing, entering her apartment like a cautious cat. He moved like a cat too, quietly and without a whisper of sound, despite how much pain he must have been in.

“I have some bandages, and some salves,” she offered. She just needed him off his feet and unconscious. Preferably two hours ago.

It took another moment before he agreed and Harry finally had him pegged. She knew his type. He was a controlling man. Anal retentive, Hermione had called it.

She doctored his tea with some muscle relaxant, and with the state of him, even as suspicious as he was, he fell asleep immediately.

Blearily, Harry thought it was a good thing that she was so good with fixing injuries while drunk, sleepy or tired. She waved her wand, fixing injuries and straightening up broken bones with a thought, her magic working overtime to compensate for her less than optimal thought processes.

And then she was left with a bloody man on her sofa, ruining the upholstering. Harry huffed a breath and cleaned him up too. She wanted her deposit back, dammit.

It really was the damned sleep deprivation, Harry cursed as she accidentally drank the tea she had given the man, the one with the muscle relaxant. It worked on her too well and she crashed on the chair with a curse.

I am never going without sleep for two weeks, Harry promised before a gigantic yawn overtook her and she finally fell asleep.

.

.

When Harry woke up, feeling weirdly refreshed and tired at the same time, she was starving.

She also thought that the man she had cured was a dream until she opened her eyes and almost screamed at the man still asleep on her sofa.

It made sense, she realized belatedly. He was healing from what must have been torture wounds. Nobody broke their fingers or concussed themselves intentionally.

She couldn’t leave him there of course.

An idea occurred and she giggled before she could stop herself.

Twenty minutes later, the man was in a motel in another country, asleep and with all his belongings. Harry’s couch was free of blood and she was indulging herself in chocolate fudge ice cream.

He was going to be so confused, Harry giggled over a mouthful of ice cream.

.

.

The man hunted her down and for a moment, Harry cursed her red hair for being so memorable. Then, the little devil peeked up at her and Harry mentally shrugged. Why not, she thought.

“I’m sorry,” she told him, her green eyes going confused. “I don’t understand. What? Who are you?”

He snarled at her and Harry played at being frightened. McGonagall was scarier than this man, and she could sniff liars within a heartbeat. Well, he probably could as well, but he couldn’t threaten her while she was working in a bookstore and all the employees there loved her.

“I’m trying to jog your memory,” he said, voice low to keep it private.

“I’m sorry sir, but I still don’t know who you are?” she said just as softly. “Do you need help with a book?”

He huffed and stalked out, footsteps still eerily quiet. Not that anyone else noticed.

When he was far enough, Harry allowed herself a private smirk.

.

.

He stalked her!

Harry blinked large eyes at the man on her doorstep, getting a flashback to the last time he was there, bloody and swaying. A blink, and he was clean and holding a cup of coffee to her.

He was also holding a bag of chocolate croissants.

Harry opened the door wider, eyes on the croissants.

“May I help you?” she asked.

“I won’t even drug you, just answer my questions,” he demanded.

Reluctantly, she let him in. She really shouldn’t, but she really wanted those croissants. It had been ages since she’d allowed herself a pastry and the sudden craving for it was going to be a problem.

At least he laid out his offerings on the table first, letting her have a sip of coffee and a bite of the pastry before starting out with, “So what family are you allied with?”

This time, Harry’s confusion wasn’t feigned. “What?”

He made a rude noise and waved a hand. “You healed my injuries and then moved me across countries. You obviously have connections. Who are your contacts?”

The truth, she realized. Was going to be more confusing than lies.

With an inner cackle, Harry said, “I’m alone. I’ve been alone since I got here. I mostly moved to Italy for the desserts.”

Though, if Harry really wanted decadent, she would have moved to France. Those people had ideas about butter.

He looked frustrated. “You…alone? You did it alone? That’s impossible.”

Harry finished off the pastry in four bites. If he was going to start shooting, at least she had something delicious in her stomach.

He didn’t start shooting, but he did leave looking more confused than anything.

Harry waited thirty minutes before letting out a cackle.

.

.

The man - and she still didn’t know his name, kept appearing in her apartment.

He also seemed to notice that she let him in faster if he brought baked food. Hermione always said that food would kill her, but Harry didn’t think she meant the food brought as bribes from a mercenary.

And he was a mercenary, she realized. He kept a gun on him at all times and Italy’s gun laws weren’t that lax. She’d read up on it once in the bookstore after he showed up for dinner three times in a row. Italy needed permits to carry. With how well cared for that gun was – and how well used it was, Harry didn’t think he had a hunting license.

He still kept asking her strange questions. Harry was just as confused as when he started this strange arrangement, but not as confused as he was.

“What Flames?” Harry answered the millionth strange question. “I don’t have fire!”

The man made a noise like a cat stepped on and left after washing the dishes.

Harry felt herself softening. He was such a sweetheart.

.

.

Once, he fell asleep on the table, clearly worn out and Harry let him sleep.

She knitted across him, making a tea cozy and amusing herself with the funny patterns.

When he woke up near midnight, he looked spooked - frightened.

Concerned, Harry let go of her knitting and held his hand. “Are you alright?” she asked.

He kissed her hand and left, still looking scared out of his mind but considering.

.

And then the flowers started.

.

The bouquet of orchids and red carnations had Harry blushing.

Did he?...she looked up at his guileless eyes and looked at the flowers again. He didn’t know the meaning of course. It was just a coincidence that the flowers meant exotic beauty and admiration.

“Thank you,” she told him. “What’s with the flowers?”

He held her hand between his, and she felt small. His hands were larger than hers and Harry shivered deliciously at the warmth.

“Can a man not give flowers to friends?” he asked. “And I just realized. It’s been three months and I never gave my name. It’s Renato.”

Harry smiled. “Harriet. Call me Harry.”

Renato looked dazed. “Lovely name,” he murmured.

.

.

If Harry thought that Renato showed up regularly when he stalked her, now that he had given her his name, he seemed to show up every day on a schedule.

He brought dinner, a startling difference to the baked goods, and stopped asking her strange questions. He stopped looking confused and instead brought a lot of flowers.

Harry felt harassed. The flower’s messages were enough to make her blush, and Renato still looked clueless at her embarrassment. The latest one seemed to be asking her to marry him. Harry wanted to die, it was so forward.

“You don’t like the Spider Flowers?” Renato asked. “I can get different ones. How about Chrysanthemum’s and Daffodils?”

There was no way this was a coincidence anymore. He’d all but announced he was in love with her. Unrequited love with her. His eyes were crinkled with suppressed laughter and Harry understood.

“Renato, you’re going to kill me,” Harry whined, face buried in her hands. “I love you, you bastard.”

Renato laughed, scooping her up in his arms. Harry was helpless to resist and she laughed with him.

.

.

They were still having miscommunication issues. Harry was undeniably British and Reborn was also undeniably Italian.

There also seemed to be a second layer of miscommunication that still seemed to be happening, no matter Harry’s or Reborn’s best efforts.

The answer to this was dates. Lots and lots of dates where they just talked, as honestly as they could to each other, so that it would resolve their issues. Renato promised to tell her when he was angry with her. Harry promised to ask him what he was feeling instead of just assuming what he felt. It was a work in progress.

On Harry’s days off, they went trawling through coffee shops, Reborn for the coffee and Harry for the pastry.

It was a good system and both of them loved it.

And then the shooting happened.

.

.

Ducked under broken tables and bandaging an arm wound, Harry whips out her wand and heals it, cursing the entire time when the bullet pushes out. It hurt so much more going out than it had gone in.

“What is that?” Renato asked in shock.

Harry blinked at him and swore. She had forgotten on important thing in the many things she had shared with her lover.

“Magic?” she said weakly.

He smiled, looking manic. “You don’t use Flames? You’re not in the mafia?”

Harry gave a weak giggle. “No. I’m a witch. You’re in the mafia?”

“I thought you knew?” he asked her.

Which, in hindsight, yeah. Why didn’t she guess it?

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he continued, gesturing at the wand she was using to reinforce the table against the gunshots.

Harry bit her lip and did her best to look innocent. “Would you believe me if I tell you that I forgot?”

Reborn hid his face in his fedora and laughed.

.

.

Harry was mentally going Oops.

#fanfiction #reborn #harry potter #crossover #genderbend #khr #katekyo hitman reborn #hp #hpxkhr #trolling #harry and reborn troll each other #the language of flowers #hpxreborn

[stuffingisforfools]

So I can’t stop thinking about Bobby killing his own father at like 12 and burying his body in the back yard and the implications of him chasing off John with a gun when Sam and dean were young cause spn never followed up of that because why would they.

But anyways I was thinking about that and about young dean who would do anything to protect Sam and refuses to say a word against a father who most definitely hits him and what would happen if we made John just a little bit more unstable. Sam just a little weirder. But leave dean the same.

What happens when Sam’s psychic powers start themselves earlier. Say he’s 8 years old and sometimes when John is out for a couple weeks and he gets angry or hungry or just frustrated and dean can’t calm him down the lights start to flicker and the shelves start to rattle. Or how sometimes he’ll wake dean screaming babbling about things he shouldn’t know about yet. And it scares dean ofc it scares him. He’s only 12 but he already knows he can’t tell John, knows he wouldn’t take it well and he can’t pinpoint why but he’s so so afraid of what would happen if he finds out, he tries to tell himself that John loves Sammy, that he wouldn’t hurt him, but he doesn’t quit believe it, can’t quite convince himself of a lie that big.

Anyways let’s say that’s been going on for a year or two at this point. And dean has been doing his best to keep it from John. There’s been a couple of close calls but they’re still in the clear. Maybe John is getting a little suspicious maybe not but then dean fucks up and John leaves him at sonnys (Listen I know the wiki says dean was 16 at this point but Sam was definitely not 12 in that flashback and the script says Sam is 9 so I’m going with that) and all of the sudden Sam is alone with John for the longest time since he was little little, since before he started coming into his powers. Let’s be real here John has no idea what to do with Sam on his own for 2 months, he fucks up and Sam is a stubborn shit and they’re so similar that Sam gets angry and shit happens. Maybe the lights flicker or maybe johns glass of whiskey gets knocked over, just enough for John to snap out of his rage, just enough for John to get suspicious but not too big that he can’t brush it off as something he imagined. But still the door has been opened.

Fast forward a couple months, dean is back from sonny’s and things are still tense and dean is so so afraid of being sent away again, of leaving Sam with John, when John comes back from a hunt shaken, dean can instantly tell that something wrong, he won’t stop glancing at Sam when he thinks dean isn’t looking, there’s something in his gaze that dean doesn’t like. Deans on edge for a couple days but John never says anything, even if he does act a little shifty, but the day Mary died is coming up so dean jsut brushes it off as grief, tells himself they just have to make it through the next week and then things will be fine.

But things aren’t fine.

John had finally managed to pin down a demon long enough to get some answers. The demon tells him that Sam is corrupted, that Mary made a deal for access to Sam and that Sam is theirs, destined for greatness he can’t even imagine, that this is the reason that Mary is dead. And John tries to deny it, tries to tell himself its nonsense, that the demon is lying to try and get in his head, but then he remembers what happened when dean was gone, and all these little incidents over the past two years that he’s been brushing off start clicking together, and he knows the demon is telling the truth.

The demon escapes and John goes back to the motel they’re staying in. He can’t stop looking at Sam, trying to see the evil that’s coursing through his veins. Sam is the reason Mary is dead. The thought keeps building and building in his head, he can’t stop thinking about it. And then all of the sudden it’s the day Mary died and things come to a head.

The day starts as it always does it’s not even noon and John is already at the bar, drinking and thinking about Sam and the demon and his beautiful Mary burning to death over his head. Dean is sitting with Sam back at the motel trying to keep him entertained, on high alert making sure to listen for when John gets back because dean knows there’s a couple different ways this day could go and he has to be ready. Last year was a bad one but maybe this year will be different.

It’s midnight by the time John staggers back from the bar, sams all tucked in bed asleep but dean is still up keeping vigil, a gun on the bed next to him. Dean doesn’t know what it is exactly, maybe it’s the way John turns the key or the cadence of his footsteps but dean knows that it’s going to be a bad one again, that John is angry angry angry and he’s going to have to do his best to calm him down before he wakes Sammy. Kid can sleep through almost anything so if dean can get John asleep and calmed down fast enough he’ll never have to know. Dean doesn’t want Sammy to ever have to see John like this.

Except when John falls through the door there’s something different about him, something that wasn’t there last year or the year before that. Dean quietly tucks his gun under the pillow next to him and goes to help his dad to a chair. Dean manages to get John situated and goes to get him a glass of water, but John hasn’t even glanced at him, won’t stop glaring at where Sammy is hidden under the blankets.

and then quicker than dean can react, way faster than a man as drunk as john should be able to move, he’s up and marching towards sam. Dean doesn’t know what going on but dean knows that whatevers about to happen isn’t good, so he does what he always does, and puts himself between john and sam. John staggers to a stop, and roughly motions for dean to get out of the way, but he doesn’t move. And if john was angry before it has nothing on how he is now, he is RAGING. He starts yelling, telling dean to get the fuck out of the way, to let him at the little beast that stole his mary away from him. And dean is in shock, asking john what hes talking about, desperately trying to calm him down, your drunk dad, please please, what are you talking about, lets sit down and talk about this. But john won’t be calmed, you think i didn’t know?? you think anything happens in this family i don’t know about?? and dean is like what dad what are you talking about, he’s trying so hard not to cry rn, and john is like, i know what sam’s done, i know what he can do, and i have to stop him before he hurts anyone else, and then all of the sudden john is puling out a knife and hes shoving dean to the floor, saying im sorry dean but it has to be done, hes evil and someone has to pay for what happened to mary. 

and then theres a loud bang, and john falls to the ground, bleeding out from a gut shot. and dean is looking down in shock at the gun in his hands, he’s shaking. He doesn’t remember reaching for the gun, doesn’t remember pulling the trigger. but john is wheezing and bleeding out on the floor so it must have been him. 

Everything’s a little fuzzy and hes not sure if this is really happening but then sam is crying and dean is on autopilot. He gathers him up in his arms (dean can barely carry him at this point hes getting so big) presses sams face into his neck so he can’t see where john is lying on the floor and walks him out of the room to the impala. The motel is shittier than usual and there was a silencer on the gun so dean is pretty sure no one is going to come looking anytime soon, dean is an expert at knowing what places won’t ask questions, but he knows they cant stay there. Dean shushes sam, tells him to stay put and walks back to the room. 

In the interim john has managed to pull himself upright into a seated position, pressed up against the wall with a hand against where he’s bleeding out. Despite everything john is still angry, he can’t yell but dean flinches anyways when john starts cussing him out, telling dean that he expected more of him, that he didn’t raise him like this, that they need to get revenge for mary and that sam isn’t human, is something that needs to be put down. And dean makes a choice. 

The gun is sitting on the bedspread where he dropped it when he grabbed sam. He may have reacted on instinct when he first shot john, did it without even thinking. But this is different. John has been telling dean his entire life that he has to protect sam, that nothing is more important. And so dean does what he needs to do. And shoots john point blank in the head. 

Everything is a blur after that, when he think back to it he can’t quite pinpoint how he got from the room to the impala to out on the road but hes a good little soldier so he knows what to do even when running on autopilot. He strips the room, gathers up all their things and cleans up as much evidence of who they are as he can. Does his best to keep from looking at where john is slumped against the wall. 

Dean doesn’t remember the walk back out to the car, doesn’t remember telling sammy to be quiet or even making the choice to drive. The next thing he knows he’s is pulling up in front of bobby’s house, staggering to the door with a passed out sam in his arms. It isn’t until bobby opens the door and hands him sam that dean finally gives in to the exhaustion and the stress and the shock and passes out. 

#dean winchester #Sam Winchester #supernatural #bobby singer #john winchester #tw abuse #tw murder #may or may not attempt to write this into a full fledged fic #yes i think dean should get the chance to shoot john but i also think that it would shatter him #tw child abuse #i really think this is the only way dean would ever kill John #maybe not this exact situation but I do believe he could never do it for himself #he would have to do it in defense of someone else and it would still break him #spn

[saw-x]

tag 9 people to learn more about their interests!

tagged by @juliansbaker and @brockedavis. Thanks for tagging me 💖💖💖

MUSIC

fave genre? i love pop music and all of its subgenres. i also love indie music.

fave artist? britney of course

fave song? i have too many, but i will go with oops i did it again

most listened song recently? i love you but i love me more by marina

song currently stuck in your head? this is me from camp rock (i watched it today so that’s why)

5 fave lyrics? Ok here are some totally random picks

Guess I can't see no harm / In working and being a mama / And with a kid on my arm I'm still an exceptional earner - Piece of Me by Britney Spears

You got a white picket fence and your dad's got a gun / And when you see the police there's no reason to run / You got a job, and a car, and a good dental plan / You got health insurance, pocket money ... Damn - New America by Marina

I'm a dynasty / The pain in my vein is hereditary - Dynasty by Rina Sawayama

You are the hole in my head / You are the space in my bed / You are the silence in between what I thought and what I said - No Light, No Light by Florence + the Machine

This dream isn't feeling sweet / We're reeling through the midnight streets / And I've never felt more alone / It feels so scary getting old - Ribs by Lorde

radio or your own playlist | solo artists or bands | pop or indie | loud or silent volume I slow or fast songs | music video or lyrics video | speakers or headset | riding a bus in silence or while listening to music | driving in silence or with radio on

BOOKS

fav book genre? young adult fiction and classics. cookbooks too lmao

fav writer? harper lee, truman capote, f. scott fitzgerald

fav book? to kill a mockingbird

fav book series? the mortal instruments (💀)

comfort book? I don’t really read enough anymore to have one tbh

perfect book to read on a rainy day? 

fave characters? alec lightwood, izzy lightwood, magnus bane, jem carstairs, atticus finch (one of these is not like the others help)

5 quotes from your fave book that you know by heart? 

i don’t know any book quotes by heart

hardcover or paperback | buy or rent | standalone novels or book series | ebook or physical copy | reading at night or during the day | reading at home or in nature | listening to music while reading or reading in silence | reading in order or reading the ending first | reliable or unreliable narrator | realism or fantasy | one or multiple POVS | judging by the covers or by the summary | rereading or reading just once

TV AND MOVIES

fave tv/movie genre? i love teen dramas, disney stuff and horror movies

fave movie? heathers and any of the comfort movies listed below

comfort movie? mermaids, death becomes her, first wives club, legally blonde, beauty and the beast, mulan and scream

movie you watch every year? i don’t know tbh

fave tv show? veronica mars, hart of dixie, one tree hill, bates motel

comfort tv show? hart of dixie and oth

most rewatched tv show? probably oth tbh

5 fave characters? veronica mars, lemon breeland, gina porter, norma bates and faith lehane

tv shows or movie | short seasons (8-13 episodes) or full seasons (22 episodes or more) | one episode a week or binging | one season or multiple seasons | one part or saga | half hour or one hour long episodes | subtitles on or off | rewatching or watching just once | downloads or watches online

tagging (no pressure of course): @anthonyhopkinz @paulwalkerr @sallysimpsons @charismascarpenter @etherealkies @fionagallaqher @magnusedom @andremichaux @natanscott and anyone else who wants to do it

#tag games #honestly was drawing a blank for a fair few things #feel free to ignore this if you have already done it or don't wanna do it

[samwinchestershotgod]

devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes, and if i bleed, you'll be the last to know

did someone say samruby ?? i have samruby to spare. (read on ao3?)

“Do you love me?”

Her eyes are wide but they aren’t looking at anything but the floor.

Sam doesn’t answer her. Her blood tastes sweet and cold and he’s lost in it. He hears her, but her words don’t register right away. She pulls her arm back, much to Sam’s dismay.

“Hey--”

“Do you love me?” This time, it’s more aggressive, like she wants a certain answer and she’s afraid of the one she’s gonna get. “C’mon, Sammy, tell me.”

“Don’t call me that,” Sam responds bitterly. “Don’t call me Sammy.”

She smirks. “Whatever. Just answer the question.”

“I don’t know,” he says honestly. “Do you?”

Her face falters for a moment in the moonlight. “No.”

“Then why did you ask?” Sam says, reaching back for her arm. She lets him. She doesn’t respond. In the morning, he’ll look like a corpse. He always does, every morning. It’s a weird side effect from the blood, like it takes all the life out of him for a while before rebooting him. His skin gets all grey, his eyes get all red, and he moves in slow and sluggish ways until he bounces back around noon.

But right now, as the moon makes their shitty motel room bright with the iridescent midnight glow, he looks pretty perfect to her. His hair was a bit greasy and his face was flushed red with the formidable power rushing into him, but he was perfect.

When he stops, she sits down next to him with an air of grace, trying hard to get him to look at her like anything else but a drug.

She reaches over and tucks a stray strand of hair behind his ear because she can’t help it. He melts into her palm because he can’t help it, either. With slow eyes, he looks at her, and she wants to see something other than craving in them, but she doesn’t.

“What?” he whispers, his voice retaining a bit of childlike innocence, like he was wishing he wasn’t where he was anymore.

“Could you love me?” The words fall out her mouth before she can stop them.

Their faces are so close she can smell her blood on his breath. He kisses her instead of answering her question. She kisses back instead of asking again. Maybe she doesn’t want to know that answer.

~

He drains a demon like it’s literally nothing, but his blood feels hot and stable and strong, so he doesn’t even bat an eye.

In the barn, Ruby twirls around in delight, like she’s dizzy with happiness.

“That was fun,” she grins. “I like doing stuff with you.”

Sam grins back at her, though somewhere deep in him, it feels all wrong to smile at a time like this.

The demon they drained-- who posed as a farmer, who was taking care of the horses when they found him-- hangs loosely against the post they tied him to. Sam tries not to look at it too close, or he’ll be reminded that that was once a real person and that he just ruined their chances of ever being a real person again. He shoves it down as Ruby presses the buttons on the little radio in the barn. She giggles and continues to spin around, this time with a bit more flare.

“What are you doing?” Sam asks, his head still spinning a little.

“Listen to music?” she says, as if it should be obvious.

Sam huffs a laugh. “Right now?”

“I’m in a good mood,” she shrugs. “You’re all-” she motions vaguely towards Sam with her hands “-and the weather is nice...why not?”

“We’re in a barn, in the middle of nowhere, with a dead body on our hands,” Sam says.

She groans. “God, you are no fun! Live a little, Sammy. Please.”

“I told you--”

“Not to call you Sammy. Whatever.”  Although her words are harsh, her face is a bit sympathetic, and Sam can tell she feels a bit bad for him. They stand about five feet away from each other, while the staticy little radio sings about the starman letting all the children boogie. She takes five steps towards him, that stupid little smirk on her lips, then wraps her pale (perfect) arms around his waist. His breath holts, but he slowly relaxes as she starts to make them sway.

“Why are you doing this?” he asks honestly.

She holds his hand and shakes him back and forth. “Why aren’t you stopping me?”

She’s right, he doesn’t stop her.

The lightbulb from above creates a ring of light around them, like a halo. She might be a demon, but she looked angelic to him right at that moment.

“Ruby...” he begins.

She looks up sharply. He lets her dance with him but forgets to say anything else.

~

“Have you ever loved anyone?” She asks one night, as they eat french fries out of greasy bags and watch a cop show that was essentially the same episode over and over again. However, they were two seasons down, and she wasn’t about to stop.

“I loved plenty of people,” he responds, his voice catching a bit.

“I meant, like, have you ever loved anyone,” she explains. She doesn’t look at his face. She knows there’s a red glow from her own blood still on his lips, but she doesn’t want to look at it right now. She just stares at the FBI agents breaking down a door on the screen.

“Yeah,” he says slowly. “My girlfriend in college. I was gonna marry her.”

“Yeah, Jessica. I know,” she responds, surprised by the bits of jealousy in her tone. “The demons always talked about her. They said--”

“I don’t want to know what the demons had to say about her.” His voice is icy. She pulls back. She stuffs french fries in her mouth and bites her tongue.

(When they finally raise Lucifer, together, maybe he’d want to marry her too.)

The thought scares her and she tries to forget she thought it at all.

“There was Madison…” he continues. “She was a werewolf. I killed her.” His voice sounds sad again. She tries not to care. “Or Sarah Blake. I don’t really know what happened to her, though.”

“That's it?”

He shakes his head. “No. Well, I don’t know. Sometimes I can’t tell who I love or who I’d be sad to lose.”

“Would you be sad to lose me?” she asks quietly.

He doesn’t answer for a long time. “Yeah.”

“Because of the...?” She hates what the answer is going to be.

“...Yeah.”

When he figures it all out, he’ll be happy. He’ll be powerful. Maybe he’ll actually want her to stick around.

They return to their fries and their cop show and Ruby doesn’t bring it up again.

~

He’s high. Very high. It feels nice and big and bad and small all at once. She steadies him, holding his head against her chest and pressing her cheek to the top of his head.

“Sam,” she whispers in the darkness. “Was it too much?”

“No,” he says, just as quiet. “No...it’s...it’s perfect.”

“Can you feel it? That kind of power?”  She strokes his hair with a cold hand. “You’ll kill her. You’ll kill Lilith, get your revenge. Can’t you feel it?”

“Yes,” he lies.  

He likes it in her arms. It’s like when Jess would play with his hair...but she’s not Jess. She’s Ruby. He doesn’t love Ruby like he loved Jess.

At least, that’s what he tells himself.

“Can I ask again?” He knows exactly what question she wants to ask.

“You can,” he says, “but I’m not sure my answer is gonna change.”

She stays silent. He can’t remember where they are, exactly. They're on the ground somewhere, but the blood’s making him all wonky. He wants Dean so bad it hurts. He suddenly feels like a child, and children want their parents. Or at least, the person who raised them.

“Stop thinking about him,” she says, because she always knows what he’s thinking about.

“Can’t.” His voice breaks.

He doesn’t love her. He couldn’t if he wanted to.

#do i ship them? no #am i throughly invested in their relationship? #yes #samruby #my writing #sam winchester #supernatural #ruby #season 4 #boyking!sam #taylor swift #because cruel summer is THEIR song

[katybaby00]

Guys my age

Alpha!Sam x Omega!Chunky!Reader 

Warnings: Child abuse, if you’re sensitive to that please skip ahead. Body image issues. ABO dynamics. Smut (obviously). Mating. Claiming. Angst (from the reader). Dub-con. Moc. Daddy kink from the reader. I think that’s it! 

A/N: This is my first A/B/O. Be kind. Constructive criticism is always welcome! I listened to Guys my age by Hey Violet on repeat. So feel free to listen to that song when it shows up in here. Enjoy my loves! 

Beta’d by: @anawkwardartistandgamer 

“Y/n! Get your ass down here!” Your foster mother shouted up the stairs. “Coming!” You place your journal down onto your nightstand and close your bedroom door softly, she hates when I close it loud. You make your way down the stairs, and as you reach the bottom the hateful beta woman looks up at you. Pulls you the rest of the way down the stairs and backhands your right cheek and it starts to flare up to red. “I thought I told you to take out the garbage?” She stares at you, face beet red. If she was any more red you thought she might have steam coming out of her ears, you giggle at the thought. She seethes and she starts  smacking you, across your mouth busting your upper lip open. Then, with her right hand she busts your eyebrow open. You tumble on to the floor and she starts kicking and punching you. Your upper body, torso, and legs. You’re starting to feel your vision go fuzzy and darken at the corner of your eyes. She grabs you by your hair and drags you down the hallway, opens the creepy basement door, and then throws you down and locks it. As you tumble down the stairs an exposed nail slices into your waist and starts bleeding. As your body hits the last few steps your head smacks off of the support beam and your world goes black. 

You wake up in the hospital with your social worker Maria. You and her have been through a lot together. This wouldn’t be the first time she has found you at the hospital covered in bruises and stitches. She is an amazing person and I am very grateful for her. “Maria? Maria, where am I?” She is startled that you’re talking. “Y/n, you have been in the hospital for 5 weeks. The doctors said that you were in a coma. But a very slight one, you didn’t hit your head hard enough to do major damage. And the cut on your waist is stitched up. You needed 7 stitches. While your foster mother was beating you the neighbors heard you screaming and called the police. She won’t ever touch or see you again. I promise. In the meantime you need to get your rest and I will talk to the doctor about your release papers.” That was a massive relief to hear her say that. But you were tired of always jumping from home to home. Never knowing when you would get a good or bad one. You look at her, “Nobody wants a 15 year old, Maria. Nobody would ever want me anyway. I mean look at me. I’m fat. Stretch marks. Cellulite. In places I didn’t even think possible. I’m disgusting!  And in 3 years I’ll figure out if I’m going to be alpha, beta, or omega. I’ll probably be a beta. Nobody would want to be with me if I was an omega anyway! Just let me go. Let me leave, you can say that I ran away. But please, don’t look for me.” Crying into your hands. Maria sets her hands on your leg. “Y/n, I know that things are hard right now. Nothing seems to not be going the way you had hoped, and I understand that. I really do. I want to help you. So I’m going to go talk to the doctor. I’ll see you later.” She squeezes your hand. Getting up she walks towards the door and before she leaves she looks over her shoulder and gives you a knowing smile. You cried because she was the only real friend you ever knew. I will miss her more than anything. 

2 years later and you were better than ever slipping from couch to couch in your friends’ homes, hitchhiking, and hustling pool in your free time at dive bars. You had run into a couple who said they hunted things, you assumed it was like wild game, and wanted to see what they would be hunting. So you decided that one night you would follow them and see what it was. Big mistake. You found yourself tied with your hands above your head on a meat hook in an abandoned warehouse with an IV in your arm. ‘Great.’ You thought as you tried to free your hands. Luckily you were rescued by Eva and Dave, who explained to you that what you did was very stupid and you shouldn’t just follow strangers places. And blah blah blah. You convinced them to take you under their wing and teach you everything they knew about the ‘“hunting life” as they called it. So off you went. Killing demons, djinn, witches, and even dragons. For the next year. Then came your 18th birthday. The day you had been dreading since the hospital. “Eva? What if I’m an omega? What if I’m an alpha? How will I even know what I am?” She just laughs and rubs your shoulders. “I knew almost instantly that I was an omega. So did every omega in my family. I have no doubt in my mind that you will know almost immediately. Even Dave said he knew almost instantly that he was an alpha. You will be just fine. You have like 5 minutes until it's midnight. Then you’ll know. Trust me.” You sat back on the creaky couch of their family cabin and chewed your nails. 4 minutes. 3 minutes. 2 minutes. 1 minute. “What if I’m an omega? How am I going to get threw my heats and how am-`” ''Listen to me,” she cut you off. “I got scent blockers, pills, and everything you will need to get you through this m’kay? You are going to be just fine.” Midnight struck. “I don’t actually feel anything. Maybe I’m a beta. God i was really hop-” and just like that a gut wrenching cramp punched through your stomach and you doubled over in pain. Your body heating up like you just stepped into a sauna. Sweat started rolling down your forehead and you felt the urge to clench your legs together. “Dave, honey, why don’t you go take a drive or stay at a motel. Just to make things more comfortable for Y/n. Okay? I don’t think she needs to be around an alpha this early.” He walks over to Eva and kisses her cheek then walks out the door. “Eva! Oh my god. Why does this hurt so bad? It feels like my insides are going to come apart.” “Sh, honey I know the first one is sometimes the hardest. You just have to get yourself through it. Unless you want me to go pick some guy-” “Absolutely not Eva don’t you even think about it!” You shouted as you doubled over again and you could feel the slick soak your underwear.

Two years later you had gotten it under control. You could feel when one was coming on and you avoided alphas at all costs. Or at least as much as you could. Eva and Dave decided that you knew enough to hunt on your own and you agreed. They didn’t like you being an unmated omega hunting alone but they also knew that they couldn’t stop you either. So here you sat in Kansas City, Kansas at some bar with too many college kids. You looked older than 20 so the bouncers never questioned it. As it turns out, a ghost had been messing with some fraternities and here you are. You took care of it, in and out. Simple salt and burn.You sat down at the bar determined to maybe find a beta or shy alpha, hopefully. You could feel your heat coming, but it wasn’t close enough to draw attention to you. After all, never having a knot, your options were limited. 2 hours and many shots later you were about to give up when you heard the song that made your body come to life start to play. Mainly because it was true. You had always dated older men, then when you tried to date someone younger it ended in disaster. So you stuck with the silver foxes and 25 plus men. You tossed your flanel to the side wearing a tank top and short shorts with combat boots. The bass of the speakers in your chest and how it swarmed your body, it felt like you were flying. The endorphins that flooded your system and how high the song was making you. Plus the amount of shots you had, dancing around this many good looking people, you didn’t have a care in the world. That was until you could feel eyes on you. You noticed your suppressant cream was starting to come off. So you ran towards the exit and practically knocked over an extremely large man with shaggy brown hair. As soon as you hit him it was like hitting a wall of arousal, he smelled amazing. Like sandalwood, whiskey, and old books. Shit. “Hey. Woah, easy there. Why are you run-“ he took a deep breath in through his nose and took a step back. “You’re an omega.” He grabbed your hand and led you through the crowd of people out of the bar and into the parking lot, dragging you behind him. “Hey! Stop! Wait! God, alpha’s never fucking listen!” Even though He was dragging you through the crowd of people his grip wasn’t too tight. He held your wrist with such care. You could tell that there is more to this man that meets the eye. You shouted and yanked your arm away, he turned to look at you. “Ah, no. Not God. His name is actually Chuck and he’s a douche.” You give him a bewildered look, “What? You know what, I don’t care. Look I don’t even know who you are! What makes you think I’m just going to leave with you?” The way he looked at you held something more. Something you couldn’t put your finger on. Like an instinct that you had to follow, that you needed to follow. His eyebrows shot up and he gave you an apologetic look. “Oh right, I probably should’ve started with that. I’m sorry. I just didn’t want anyone else to smell you. I have been waiting a long ass time to find you. I never thought I would, but you were dancing, and I caught your scent and I couldn’t help but stare and then you bolted out and ran into me. I’m sorry.” You look up at the man. “What’s your name?” “I probably should have started with that. My name is Sam. Sam Winchester.” You scoff. “There is no way. The Winchester’s are a myth. There is also no way, out of all of these people in the world, you “Sam Winchester” is my alpha there’s no way!” You start to laugh then. “This is crazy. You guys are obviously fucking with me…” Sam just looks at you. “Listen I know this is crazy. Believe me, we are obviously not a myth if we’re standing right in front of you. I’m Sam.” You take a step back and put your hands to your temples. There is no fucking way that this is happening! Cursing yourself. “Okay… you are definitely going to have to prove it to me. Because I have only ever heard stories, not that you are actually living and breathing. You are way too hot to be the Winchester’s. They sounded so burly and rough. Not big, sexy, strong… alpha’s.” You start to trail off and your stomach cramps and your panties grow damp. Sam shoots forward and wraps you in his arms and purrs. His instincts took over. He sniffs your hair and nuzzles his face into your neck. Sam clears his throat and let’s you go. “Sorry. I just, yeah.” You smile up at the alpha “It’s okay. We should probably get to know each other before you just fuck me senseless huh?” Sam sucks in a breath and coughs. That’s when Dean walks up. His eyes get wide when he hears what you said. Dean looks over at you and laughs, “Let’s get back to the motel and get some liquid courage. We can take my baby.” “That's a great idea. I didn’t drive here, I walked.” Sam turns to you and grabs your shoulders, “You walked?! Are you crazy? You’re an unclaimed omega walking to a bar at night. That is irresponsible and dangerous.” You chuckle and reach into your boot and pull out a silver blade and twirl it in your fingers. “Down boy. I got this covered.” You pat his chest and brush past him towards the impala. Sam jogs up behind you, “So what’s your name?” “Oh right. It’s Y/n. Y/n Y/l/n.” Later that night. You and Sam are by the impala and you’re sitting on the trunk, with your hands behind you and legs swinging off the edge admiring the stars while Dean got the beer and whiskey. Sam clears his throat and finally speaks, “So I never asked how old you were.” You look at him and clear your throat. Dreading his reaction. “I’d like to know your age first. Just to see how much younger I am.” You give him a slight nudge on the shoulder and your hand lingers for a while. “I’m 33.” Your eyes shoot open and you sit up straight looking at him. Your cheeks turn a deep shade of pink. Sam must have noticed. “Sam. I- um. I’m 20.”  His eyes get as wide as saucers. “Oh. I knew you were young but I didn't know you were that young. I just assumed that you were at least 21 to be in a bar.” You sigh and jump down off the trunk. “Yeah I figured that would be your reaction. I mean look at me.” You say gesturing to yourself. He looks at you and raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” You scoff, “Oh come on Sam. Don’t tell me you don’t see it, I’m not stupid. I’m 13 years younger than you and I’m fat Sam. Stretch marks, baby face, cellulite,daddy and mommy issues, and too much skin in all the wrong places. That’s the reason I've never had an alpha or anyone else for that matter. Who would want to knot someone like me? And I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t want to either.” You drop your head and kick the rocks by your feet, letting a tear run down your cheek. He takes his hand and lifts your chin up with his index finger and rubs your jaw with his thumb. “Y/n do you really think that because of your weight and age that I wouldn't love you. You’re my omega. Nothing can change that. Not any stupid number on a scale or of you’re 20. I have waited so long to find you, and now here you are. I didn’t know that it was that young.” You give Sam a small smile and he wraps you in a tight hug. “Yeah you’re right.” Sam holds you tight and gives you a kiss on the top of your head. 

“When we get to the motel can we see if they have another room. I want to wash this awful smelling cream off of me. If that’s okay?” He smiles and holds you tighter. “Of course it is.” Sam puts his arm around you and pulls you closer. You see Dean coming out of the gas station with a big goofy grin on his face. Sam takes notice and laughs. He nudges you and nods to Dean,  “That’s his ‘I’m getting laid tonight face’. ''It's pretty funny.” You giggle and look at Dean, “He has a face for that?” Dean gets to the gas pumps and gives you a smile and says, “Looks like we’re getting separate rooms tonight.” Sam laughs and turns to look at you.  “Oh yeah he has a face for everything.” Getting into the impala and heading back to the motel you lean up front in between the boys, “Hey Dean? Do you mind if I play a song?” He chuckles and looks back at you and then to the road. “Sweetheart this has a cassette player. Not an aux cord thingy. Besides, the driver picks the music, and shotgun shuts his cake hole.” You laugh and reach into your bag and pull out a “Hey Violet” cassette tape. “You never said anything about the backseat. Here. Play this. Number 4. Just do me a favor and let it play. It’s my favorite song.” as the song floods the speakers Dean groans. “This girly shit?” “Shh. Listen. Sam, you too.” Sam looks over his shoulder and gives you a knowing side smile. “So you like older guys huh?” Dean says as he looks in the rear view. “Dean, will you please listen. It’s actually a really good song. You might learn a thing or two.” As the song flows through the speakers and through your veins. You can’t help but stare at the back of Sam’s head thinking about running your fingers through it and tugging. Your body heats up at the intrusive thought and you can feel slick coat your underwear. Making you nervous with two alphas in the car. Sam’s shoulders straighten first and he lets out a low growl. Dean runs his hand over his face and adjusts himself in his pants without Sam knowing. Pulling into the motel Dean gets out and goes into the office to grab another room. Sam turns around and wraps his massive hand around the back of your head and pulls you towards him with a smile on his face. His eyes flicker to your lips and back up to your eyes. He kisses you, slow and soft. It feels like he’s pouring everything he’s feeling into that one kiss. You hum into the kiss. Dean opens the door and throws Sam the room key and heads to the trunk to get your bags. “Hey guys I’m just going to run to the room I had here and grab my bag and stuff. I’ll be right back.” 

After you grab your stuff from your old room and walk to the office to return your key, you walk into the room and see that he has put your bag and his onto the bed. So you grab your bag and pull open the zipper, then an idea hits you and the little light bulb above your head flips on.  You grab some pajamas and make your way over to the bathroom. Upon opening the door you don’t think Sam notices you. So you continue with your plan. Taking off your top then your boots, socks, shorts, bra, and finally you slowly slide your underwear down your legs making sure to bend over just in case you have an audience. You slip into the shower right behind Sam and wrap your arms around his middle. He jumps slightly and then relaxes when he catches your scent. He wishes you would hurry and rinse that cream off so he could scent you better. “Are we crazy for doing this?” He chuckles and smiles before turning around. “Y/n I think that we would be crazy not to do this. You’re my true mate. And I'm yours. There’s no denying it. I just wish I could have found you sooner.” Your heart flutters at his words. In one swift motion you reach behind his head and pull him into a bruising kiss. Teeth and tongues working together to please the other. Sam growls low in his throat and you can feel it reverberated into your chest making your omega instincts crave his touch. Pushing into him more he stops you with a hand on your chest. “‘Mega please wash that god awful cream away so I can scent you. It smells so bad. I want the real you.” You giggle and grab the body wash. “Yes alpha.” he shivers at the title and pulls your body against his front. You can feel his cock get rock hard. You can feel the slick of yourself run down your legs. “S-Sam. Please, I want you so bad.” He pulls you closer, if that’s even possible and he kisses and nips at your shoulders. Trying your best to scrub the cream off you finally finish with no help from Sam. 

You quickly step out of the shower and grab the nearest towel and dry off quickly. Sam followed close behind. After you are completely dried off you go and before you can get some shorts and a sleep shirt on. Sam reaches you and spins you around and kisses you. Making you stumble backwards on to the bed. “Present for me omega. Present for your alpha.” Climbing onto the bed you can’t help but let out a whine. Sam grabs his cock and he gives it a few pumps. As you get positioned you can feel Sam’s eyes on your round ass. He’s looking at the way your back arches for his and how dripping wet your pussy looks. “Good girl omega. Such a pretty pussy.” You come down lower to the bed chest flat against it and arms resting by your head. You don’t start getting nervous until the bed dips, which Sam can sense. “Hey baby, you’re doing so good right now. Look so perfect for me. I promise I’m going to be gentle. I’m going to be so fucking gentle.” he says while he sinks a finger into you. He slides his finger in and out slowly before adding another, which makes you gasp. “It stings a little.” “Yeah baby girl it’s going to. I just have to open you up or it’s going to really hurt and I don’t want to hurt you.” So you relax completely trusting your alpha. He glides his fingers in and out and then he makes a come hither motion and you moan, loud. Loud enough for the whole motel to hear. He keeps going and you’re a panting and moaning mess. You can feel the smirk on Sam’s lips watching you come undone for him. “That’s it ‘mega. Cum on my fingers.” That’s all it took to send you crashing over the edge. “Oh fuck! Shit shit shit. Oh god Sam.” clenching around his fingers you can feel your juices run down the inside of your thighs and you let out a shaky breath. Sam slides his fingers out of you and leans over your body, “I’m not done with you yet omega.”  he smirks and pulls your hips higher and closer to his body and you can feel his cock prod at your entrance. The only thing you want to do is relax for him. He pumps himself a few times and takes the head of his cock and brushes it along your folds, gathering your wetness. “So wet for me baby. So beautiful.” You wiggle and push back against him, causing him to grunt. He sinks the head of his cock into you. Making your eyes pop open and a hiss coming from you. “Sam that’s too much.” “Baby if you don’t relax it’s going to hurt,” he pushes into you slowly, inch by inch, “you’re doing so good,” he keeps going until he bottoms out, “fuck. You are so fucking tight. So fucking perfect for your alpha. Are you okay?” You push back against him trying to get some sort of movement out of him and he grabs you by your throat and pulls you back against his chest. “You’re such a needy little omega aren’t you?” Lost in the moment you reply, “Yes daddy.” You freeze. Sam freezes. Neither of you move for a couple seconds. “What did you just call me?” You take a deep breath. “Sam I’m sorry. I didn’t me-” he slaps his hand over your mouth and bites down on to your neck making you push back into him. He leans down and whispers into your ear, “Say. It. Again.” He enunciated every word. This sent shivers down your spine making you whimper into his hand. As he let his hand fall back to your throat you cry out, “Oh fuck. Please fucking move. You’re killing me. Please daddy?” “Good girl.” He pulls almost all the way out and then snaps his hips forward sending your chest to the bed and a scream to rip from your throat. He grunts out loud and moans at the angle he’s at. Setting a maddening pace that makes you see stars. The coil just keeps getting tighter and tighter the more he fucks you into the mattress. Then he pushes your back down towards the bed with your ass in the air and he hits that sweet spot, “Oh my god. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” His name came out in screams like a song that's stuck in your head. You cum around his thick cock and you can feel his knot starting to catch inside your tight walls. He starts fucking your faster and you can feel his hips falter, “Oh fuck Y/n. I’m gonna cum.” And with that his knot catches and you can feel his teeth sink into your neck claiming you forever. He coats the inside of your walls, rope and rope of cum filling your belly. Sam leans over and kisses your shoulder, making sure to lick at his fresh mark. He rolls you both over waiting for his knot to soften. “Y/n. I am so glad that I finally found you.” You take his large hand and hold it in your much smaller hand. “Me too alpha.”

#samwinchester #spnsmut #supernaturalsmut #supernatural #alpha!sam #x reader #supernatural a/b/o #spn au fanfiction #alpha!dean #moc #abo dynamics

[alison-anonymous]

flawsome bandits pt. 3 ♡ sonic

Flawsome Hotel-Bound Feelings

Warnings: some sad feelings, but mostly a lot of bonding fluff 

Welcome to part 3!!! I've been so excited about this fic that I've been writing every night so if you're reading, please let me know if you think I should keep uploading parts! I love hearing from you guys!! Love you all, darlings, enjoy😘💙

♡♡♡

“Did you see how much toilet paper I used?” Sonic gushed as he jumped up and down on the bright red motel bedsheet. “The next time someone goes in there, they’re going to have to use their hands!”

Y/n giggled, standing up on her knees and turning her hands into a finger gun, pointing it at the lampshade while Tom scooped up some homemade ice packs. “The brawl was intense, hands being thrown in every corner of the bar. The odds were against us…”

“But no one could best the Blue Blur, Star Chaser, and Donut Lord!” Sonic finished for her. “Scratching another one off my bucket list!” He flopped down to the nightstand and scratched off the one labeled “start a bar fight.”

“Very ambitious of you,” Y/n joked, flopping onto her back and letting her hair dangle off the side of the bed. Tom made his way over to the other bed and sat down on it, handing Sonic and Y/n each an ice pack while pressing his own against his face.

“You are one weird little dude. You’ve got a lot in common with Y/n,” Tom sent her a smug smile. She brushed some loose strands of h/c hair back and pressed the ice pack against her throbbing temples. Y/n had been one of the lucky few to have not gotten punched in the face, but she did get hit in the head by some airborne nachos. Sonic watched the two for a little bit and mimicked Y/n, pressing it against his cheek. 

“So what are we going to do now?” He asked excitedly, his ever constant adrenaline still pumping and ready to jump at whatever was next. Tom began taking off his shoes and plopping them on the floor as he glanced over at the TV set.

“I’m going to pass out watching TV, and the two of you should, too.” 

“But it’s my last day on earth!” Sonic protested, leaning against Y/n’s stomach. She slowly pushed herself up to sitting position and glanced over her shoulder at her dad. 

“I mean, he has a point,” she nodded. He sighed.

“Alright, well, anything the two of you can find in this room that might be noteworthy, have at it.” He plopped down onto the bed and in a couple of minutes, Y/n and Sonic could already hear the soft snores coming from his mouth. And he didn’t even have to turn the TV on. Sonic took this as his opportunity and flew around the room, tossing toilet paper like confetti, screwing with the TV guide, and doing… something in the bathroom. In a matter of seconds, he was already back on the bed next to Y/n, wearing a towel on his head and no shoes.

“Good times,” he smiled. The girl couldn’t help but giggle, leaning back against the headrest of the bed and staring at the TV. Sonic had left it on the news, and just as she concentrated on it, she suddenly saw two photos float across the screen.

Her stomach dropped.

“Y/n and Tom Wachowski have been accused of committing acts of domestic terrorism. They are to be considered armed and dangerous. Any information of their whereabouts must be-” She quickly shut off the TV before she could hear any more. Her breath caught in her throat as she stared blankly at the spot where she had seen her mugshot. 

“Hey, N/n, you okay?” Sonic’s voice snapped her back into reality. She glanced down at the hedgehog sitting cross legged in front of her, looking into her e/c eyes with pure concern. 

“I’m fine,” she offered him a half-hearted smile, running a shaky hand through her hair. “Just a little nervous… hey, what is this new planet you’re heading to like?” Sonic’s expression grew solemn as he began messing with the fabric of his gloves.

“It’s pretty horrible really… it’s a world full of nothing but mushrooms and breathable air, no humans. No friends. No Donut Lords or Star Chasers…” He drew off. Y/n felt her heart ache for him. She felt horrible knowing that her one new friend was now being forced to live on some planet with no other humans on it, and all because of what? Because he was different? When it came down to it, Sonic was probably one of the greatest, funniest, kindest people she had ever met.

“I’m really going to miss it here… I know I have to leave earth to keep everyone here safe, but what if Longclaw was wrong? What if I could have a life here on earth?” He closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. Y/n felt her heart deflating in her chest. It was so sad, so heart wrenching to watch this little blue ball of excitement become so dejected. All that he wanted was a home, someone to hang out with and love. People who wanted him to be around. 

“I don’t want you to leave either,” she spoke slowly, almost as if she were afraid to say the words. "It isn't just because of the deja vu, I swear. You just… you're the only true friend I've ever had. And I hate seeing you unhappy…" His emerald eyes widened to the size of saucers as he stared at the girl before him in shock. The whole time he was on earth, he had to stay a secret. The only friends he had ever truly had were himself, no one even knew he existed until now. So the fact that this beautiful girl was sitting her in front of him, telling him that she didn’t want him to leave and that she hated to see him so unhappy? Well…

"That's the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me,” Sonic breathed. His heart pounded against his chest so loud he was scared that she would be able to hear it. Luckily, his fur was able to hide the blush that was rising on his cheeks. What was happening? Why did he feel like throwing up rainbows? 

Y/n smiled warmly at him, her eyes glittering from the faded light of the lamp. “You’re the only friend I’ve ever had, or that I can remember having anyway. That’s what friends are for.” Sonic leaned back on his hands, eyes scanning Y/n’s thoughtfully.

“Has anyone ever told you that you are insanely easy to talk to? I don’t know, I just feel like I’ve known you all my life,” he chuckled softly, being serious for a rare moment. Usually he was all hyped up and sarcastic, but right now was one of the times where he was completely and utterly serious. Y/n pulled her legs up to her chest and hugged them, resting her chin on her knees.

“I mean, maybe we did at one point. Who knows? I don’t remember a thing of my life up until I was twelve and got found in the woods.” Sonic went quiet for a moment, debating whether or not the question he wanted to ask would come off as offensive. But finally, he decided to put on some big boy pants and ask.

“...What is it like?”

“What’s what like?”

“Not remembering who you are,” Sonic spoke softly, terrified to hurt her feelings. But luckily, Y/n simply gave him a small smile and looked down at the rough bed sheets, collecting her thoughts in her head. She grew silent for a moment before she finally lifted her head up once again.

“It’s… complicated. Every morning I wake up. I can hear the sound of my mom cooking breakfast downstairs. It’s gotten to the point where I can guess what she’s making by the sound of the utensil she’s using. I get up out of my bed, and leave my room, and walk down the stairs and give my dad a hug just before he leaves for work. And then I have breakfast with my mom and we talk about anything and everything. And… for a little while, I feel like I actually belong there. I feel like they are my actual family. But then I go outside, and things… are different,” she sucked in a shaky breath though her lips. “Everyone else knows exactly who they are. They know what weed killer works the best for their plants, they know where they were born, who their parents were, what they looked like when they were babies, what their favorite midnight snack is… what their last name is…

“And then I’m just standing there, not knowing any of that. There aren’t any records of me in any of the hospitals or law agencies. It’s like I didn’t even exist on this planet. And while some people can be patient and loving with me, others… can’t. My heart is still beating, and I’m breathing and I’m here. But for what? What purpose could I possibly have when I can’t even answer basic questions about myself? Tom and Maddie have been the only people to make me truly feel welcome… and then you came along.” The smile slowly returned to her lips at the mention of him. He waited patiently for her to continue, hooked onto every word she was saying. “I’ve never met anyone like you before, and not just because you’re a hedgehog. It’s just… you. You make me feel like I belong somewhere, and, god, I’ve never laughed harder or had as much fun as I have with you with anyone else. You make me feel like I’ve known you my whole life and yet I’ve only known you for a day. It’s insane,” she chuckled, shaking her h/c locks. 

Her laugh was contagious as Sonic found himself chuckling before long too. 

“Well, I still made a promise to you that I plan to keep,” he began. “I will find a way to help you remember. Everything will be okay in the end.”

“How do you know?” Y/n asked curiously. Sonic simply shrugged, smiling.

“I just have a feeling.” A moment of comfortable silence floated between the two as they stared at one another. Y/n felt her stomach become full of butterflies, then finally giving up their hesitance to fly around freely in joy. The feeling of nostalgia had become something that she enjoyed experiencing as it helped her feel like she had a closer connection with the bright blue hedgehog. Maybe they did meet sometime in her life and she just forgot about it for whatever reason. Perhaps Sonic could help her find a way to remember, though she had no clue how he planned to try and accomplish it. Sonic hadn’t the slightest clue either, but he did know that he would be willing to run to the ends of the earth in order to make her happy. 

No, it couldn’t be. It wouldn’t make any sense! Were they… falling in love? 

“Um,” Y/n cleared her throat, the time suddenly becoming very apparent to her as she glanced down at her snoring father. “We should probably get to bed. He wants to leave by eight.”

Sonic nodded rapidly, tossing the towel off of his head and onto the floor. Y/n chuckled, not having even realized he was still wearing it. “Right, I can take the floor.”

“Don’t be silly, you can sleep in the bed too,” Y/n moved the comforters down and slid her legs underneath the sheets. “I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor and my dad tends to be a cover-hog.”

Sonic scrunched up his features in slight uncertainty, not wanting to make things awkward between him and his new friend. However, she had already made up her mind.

“Sonic. Get in bed.” She ordered. He quickly nodded and dove under the covers, snuggling up on to the pillow and letting out a surprised sigh. Back in his cave, he had only ever had a bean bag chair that he absolutely adored to sleep on. But a bed? It was like what he imagined sleeping on a cloud to be like. The pillow molded around his head and the blankets kept his body warm. It was like being wrapped up in a hug by a marshmallow. Y/n couldn’t help but giggle at his reaction.

“Never slept in a bed before?”

“It. Is. Amazing.” He slowly lowered his face under the covers until only his eyes could be seen, staring straight at Y/n. She laughed, getting comfortable in the bed as well after turning off the lamp next to the bed. As they settled in the darkness, staring at one another (hopefully without the other knowing), their breaths began to slow down as the drowsiness finally kicked in. But just before they nodded off, they were reminded of each other.

“Goodnight, Y/n.” Sonic whispered.

“Goodnight, Sonic.”

♡ a.a.

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog movie #sonic the hedgehog 2020 #sonic #sonic the hedgehog x reader #sonic the hedgehog imagines #sonic the hedgehog movie x reader #sonic the hedgehog movie imagines #sonic x reader #sonic imagines #sonic the hedgehog 2020 x reader #sonic the hedgehog 2020 imagines #donut lord #pretzel lady #flawsome bandits #doctor robotnik

[sarahjtrash]

Snow-Crossed Love

Jurdan, Rated T, 4.3 K

Summary: If people are lucky, their soul mark appears on their sixteenth birthday. The marks are words, always the first spoken by their soulmate to them. Cardan Greenbriar and Jude Duarte have both been blessed with such marks, but after a few years, they both feel slightly hopeless when it comes to find the one. Maybe their luck is about to change.

A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this. I kind of want to write a part two, so let me know if you'd be interested. Enjoy!

-o-0-o-

Cardan Greenbriar ate out. A lot. 

Breakfast, lunch, dinner, Monday through Friday, he constantly tried different restaurants, rarely the same place twice. People assumed it was from pure laziness, his family’s exorbitant wealth and his laissiez-faire playboy demeanor. He never tried to dissuade them of these notions, but in all honesty, Cardan didn��t even mind cooking. 

No, Cardan ate out with alarming regularity because of his mark. 

Not everyone had the honor to get one, but Cardan’s had manifested when he turned sixteen, and it changed his habits almost overnight. To Cardan, there was really only one way that he would meet his soulmate. Their words to him were so direct and simple.

“Good evening. My name is Jude, and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I start you off with anything to drink?”

When it came to first words, Cardan was beyond lucky. Not only did he have an occupation, but he also had a name. For the first three years, Cardan chose to dine at restaurants for almost every meal, hoping beyond hope that maybe this would finally be it, the moment he would meet his Jude. Sometimes, he would just meander into restaurants and ask if anyone there had that fabled named. While it was an odd question to ask, it saved him from having to pretend to enjoy yet another meal. 

However, after three years of never eating at home, Cardan and his wallet grew tired.  The last two years of college introduced him to new opportunities too. Now, even though only twenty-one, Cardan understood he had the rest of his life to find his soulmate, but patience was never something he specialized in. It was in the last two years that Cardan had really invested himself into the drinking culture. Perhaps it also coincided with the fact he was in college, but Cardan learned that his money may be more well spent on alcohol than fancy meals.

Regardless, those first few years of having a mark, it was all Cardan could think about. His thoughts seemingly always repeating the same word over and over again.

Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude. Jude.

He used to think about it so much sometimes that his freshman year notes had pages filled with the name. The ink completely covered anything useful.

However, recently, he could spend a few days where he realized that he hadn’t given the mark, or Jude, any thought. It was these moments of realizations that drove him to near panic. 

What if he’d been eating with friends and laughed through the introduction? What if their meeting was during an awful date with Nicasia, and the server chose to let him remain in his miserable bliss? What if he met them before he even had a mark, so he didn’t know to listen? What if he actually had met them, but they hadn’t cared?

It was alone that Cardan felt that weight of these fears the most, but sometimes even alone, he felt himself forgetting its significance. Normally his commutes to and from college were when his mind was tortured but the constant cycling that was Jude, but tonight presented a completely different problem.

Instead, what commanded his attention was the snow that was positively dumping from the heavens. Small midwestern highways were already painstakingly slow, but with snow drifts that wouldn’t be cleared for at least another day, if people moved faster than 15 miles an hour, it was a miracle. He’d already seen five cars slide into the ditch in real time, and saw another ten sitting there hopelessly in the past hour. Cardan was no idiot, he knew he needed to get off the road and into some lodging as soon as possible. 

The snow blocked any cell service Cardan could hope for, but after almost an hour of hoping for a place to pull over, he finally saw some indication of population. Ahead was a sign that advertised a motel and a diner, and Cardan really had never seen anything more appealing. 

He turned his blinker on and prayed that his car would make it up the small hill that was the exit ramp. After only a few stutters, he managed to pull into the fairly empty parking lot. The boy who served as concierge couldn’t have been more than twelve as he explained the layout of the motel, which Cardan heard none of. He just wanted to lay down and close his eyes. Eventually, the boy handed him a set of real keys, not a swipe card, and Cardan thought himself incredibly lucky. 

His good fortune ended, though, when his stomach released an unworldly growl as he threw his bag on the sad queen-sized bed. It was almost midnight, and the diner closed soon, but without a willingness to drive anywhere else, it left him no choice. He trudged back through the parking lot, scarf wrapped high over his face, towards the music themed establishment. The snow and his tiredness caused him to stumble a few times, but he finally was able to grab the note shaped handle. 

A little bell altered the waitstaff of his arrival, and he catalogued the checkered floors and fifties theme. Along the front windows was a row of booths, colored a gaudy red and white with sparkles in them, and in front of him stood a large, long soda bar with backless stools. There were menus hanging from the ceiling behind the bar advertising everything from milkshakes to lobster. He should not have expected anything less. In the corner, were two girls in matching blue dresses with aprons tied around their waist, one with her back to him, and the other counting money. 

It was the one with the money that called, “Feel free to sit anywhere, we’ll be right with you.”

He nodded before taking off his layers and sitting at the barstool in the middle.

-o-0-o-

It’s not that Jude Duarte didn’t believe in love, it’s just that her soul mark seemed a cruel joke. It was so incredibly short and generic that literally anyone could be her soulmate. All she could hope was that whatever she said to her soulmate first was something rather distinct, otherwise they may never find each other.

All they were supposed to say was “Hi.”

As someone in the public service industry, that was an incredibly misleading and dull introduction. She knew soulmates sometimes never even worked out, or the occurrence was between a dying man in his 30s and his new nurse, or one of the people was already married with kids, or they simply detested each other. Too many things in this life had treated her unfairly for her to prematurely get her hopes up over something as trivial as a soulmate. 

Regardless, it was just nights like these where the diner was quiet, and it was late at night that her mind began to wonder. She never really dreamed that her person would find their way to Madoc’s shitty little diner. In the middle of nowhere, sometimes they went half a day without a single customer. Jude just had a hunch that her soulmate was probably going to come later in life, when she could leave this hellhole and meet some people.

“Jude,” Vivi chastised as she counted the money pulled from the registers. 

Jude hummed in question. 

“Nothing good ever comes when you think about your soul mark like that,” Vivi responded. 

Jude rolled her eyes. “I am not thinking about my soul mark.”

Vivi stopped her counting to giver her a look.

While Jude wished she didn’t know what that look meant, she certainly did. In her lower moments, Jude had pursued customers who had said hi to her in hopes that maybe they were trying to be more reserved about pursuing their soulmate. All that had lead to thus far was disappointment and bad make outs. She’d only had the mark for three years, and she hadn’t even approached that many people.

“Viv. We’ve been over this. I don’t just sleep with anyone who says ‘hi’.”

Vivi had finished her counting. “I know. My littler sister is probably too pious for her own good.”

Jude yawned and glared at her sister. “Whatever. I just hope no one shows up in the next half hour.”

Vivi nodded in agreement. While there may have been a storm raging outside and the night had been slightly busier than normal with wayward travelers, Jude still despised people who thought it okay to eat at restaurants near closing. Jude had already been waiting for midnight to roll around, but the last hour of her shift had dragged excessively.

Vivi flicked her eyes over Jude shoulder just as the the little chime above the door rang. “Don’t speak too soon,” Vivi whispered, before hollering out to the customer, “Feel free to sit anywhere, we’ll be right with you.”

Jude silently tried to beg Vivi to take whoever it was that walked through the door, but her sister smiled sweetly at her as she said, “As the manager on duty, I need to make sure back of house is good to go for the night—” she looked over at whoever had walked in the door— “and it appears that Mr. dark, broody, and handsome is sitting in your section anyway.”

It was moments like these where Jude really wanted to murder her sister. Vivi just patted her hand before going back through the swinging doors that lead to the kitchen. Almost instantly, Jude could hear Heather and Vivi start quietly chatting, and she understood her sister’s true intentions to go check on back of house. Neither of them had soul marks, but they’d seemed to find their own little slice of happiness in the middle of nowhere and Jude couldn’t fault them for that. 

When she turned around to go look at the man, she noticed objectively that he was exactly as Vivi had described. His cheek bones were exceptionally sharp, and his outfit, though ostentatious, did wonders for his lithe body. Jude felt herself blush as she approached, scolding herself for such girlish analysis. The exhaustion on his face showed that he really wasn’t looking to be chatted up anyway. When she stood across from him at the soda bar, she greeted him while looking at her notes. 

“Good evening. My name is Jude, and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I start you off with anything to drink?”

His hesitation was too long. When she looked up at him, his face seemed frozen in shock. As she had been walking over, he hadn’t even bothered to put the menu down from his face, but he now set it gently on the counter, closing it as he did so. 

“Hi,” he said in a daze. 

That one word sent Jude’s heart absolutely pounding. His gaze was so intense, it almost made her squirm, but she held her ground. It felt stupid for even hoping, but his reaction to her introduction just seemed too peculiar, too at odds with his previously relaxed and tired demeanor. 

Her shock to his reaction led her to challenge, “Is that all your going to say?”

He smirked at her, and Jude felt something change deep within her gut. “Is that all I’m supposed to say?”

Despite his cocky demeanor, Jude couldn’t ignore the way her heart continued to pound. She rolled her eyes all same, trying to maintain her nonchalant demeanor. While she tried to keep calm, he showed no such restraint as his arm shot out and grabbed her wrist.

Quietly, he said, “Maybe I shouldn’t have started there. What is the other servers’s name?”

“Vivienne.” Jude squinted at him.

He never broke eye contact with her as he called, “Hey, Vivienne, could you come out here for a second?”

His eyes were devastatingly dark, and they seemed to peer deep into her soul as they waited for Viv to come out.

She heard the double door that led to the kitchen swing open and the quiet “oh” her sister released when she saw Jude and the man. Their intense gaze probably revealed everything better than any explanation that Jude could give. Were it any other moment, Jude would’ve laughed.

Still, with that intense eye contact, he said, “We’ll take two of Jude dear’s favorite.”

Jude peaked her eyebrows at the nickname, but chose not to argue as she added, “And one peanut butter chocolate milkshake. Two straws.”

He nodded in agreement before Jude started to untie her apron and walked around the counter. Unfortunately, there was only one exit from the bar, forcing a direct bypass of Vivi.

Her sister’s eyes flickered over to the man, who was still watching them, and then mouthed, Is he yours?

Jude knew it was ridiculous because he could definitely see them both from his vantage point, but Jude still gave Vivi a small nod. Her sisters eyes grew very large before she sprinted into the back room. 

Jude tried not to groan at whatever Vivi was about to do back there, and first stalked over to switch the sign to closed before sitting down next to the man. All the while, she could feel his eyes pierce into her. 

She tucked her skirt underneath her when she finally sat, and didn’t deign to look at him as she said, “I don’t think it’s really fair that you have always known my name, and I don’t get to know yours.”

She straightened her napkin in front of her before looking at him questioningly. 

“You may call me whatever you wish, but my parents named me Cardan Greenbriar.”

Her soulmate had already proven himself to be dramatic in his black skinny jeans, loafers, and a flowy, low-cut blouse with pearls sewn around the cuffs. His name certainly matched everything about him. 

“Alright, Cardan, I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” At his surprised expression, she amended. “Soul mark, I mean.”

He smirked at her once again, before turning around and lifting up his shirt. Etched across his back was, Good evening. My name is Jude, and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I start you off with anything to drink?, clear as day in what appeared to be her handwriting. 

When he turned back around, Jude rolled her sock down to reveal the small Hi tattoo on her right ankle. As they both examined the small black word he said, “I feel as though I should apologize for the curtness of my greeting.”

“It certainly kept me on my toes.”

His smile changed to something more sheepish. They held eye contact again, but it felt more awkward and wholesome, as if the true reality of what was happening really settled between them. Jude appreciated the dimples around his mouth and the small dusting of freckles across his nose. The universe certainly had chosen someone beautiful for her. 

The longer they stared, the more the quietness felt awkward. Jude opened her mouth to say something, but Heather set their milk shake and hamburgers down in front of them. 

“Enjoy!” She said entirely too brightly and loud. 

Jude shook out of whatever moment they’d just shared before calling a thanks to Heather. 

“Who was that?” Cardan asked.

“Heather.”

Cardan seemed like he wanted to know more, but before he could, Jude asked, “What brings you out to the middle of nowhere?”

She leaned into to take a sip of their shake and savored its sweet flavor. 

“What makes you say I’m not from here?”

Jude gave him a very pointed once over, as if his entire outfit explained his foreignness.

“Fine,” he began, “if you really must know, I am a student at Elfhame University, and I am on my way home for winter break. Normally, I can do the drive in one day, but the weather dictated otherwise this evening.”

Jude took his answer, and asked, “What do you study?”

“Fashion.”

She knew she shouldn’t be surprised considering his outfit and what appeared to be a thin sweep of eyeliner, but she couldn’t help the scoff that escaped her. 

“What was that for?” Cardan asked indigently.

“Nothing,” Jude said. “I just thought that people who are lucky enough to go to college should choose majors that are…profitable after gradation.”

Now it was his turn to look offended. “I’ll have you know that I am graduating early with position lined up working in the Elie Saab atelier in Paris after I graduate this spring.”

Paris. That was the joke the universe decided to employ on her. 

Besides the fact that Jude wasn’t really sure what Elie Saab or atelier was, her soulmate would be moving across the globe in a matter of months and they’d never see each other again. Jude rarely left the state, let alone travelled to another country. 

“Sorry,” Jude said, “It sounds like a great opportunity, so congrats. I am just jealous of those who actually get to go, more so than my frustration at their fields of study.”

Cardan chewed on his burger thoughtfully before mercifully changing subject, “How old are you by the way?”

“Nineteen.”

He hummed. “And you clearly have been unable to go to college.”

She knew a prompted statement when she heard one. “We don’t really have much. My dad owns this place and the motel. I’ve been working since I was fourteen. I’ve been trying to save for college for years now, but it’ll probably be a few more before I have enough. I can’t take on too much debt.”

The mood seemed to dive with her statement, and Jude really didn’t feel like hashing out her sad little life to a man, soulmate or not, she’d only just met. Instead, she asked him about his job and college, and he in turn, asked about her life in this small town, what she did for fun. Their food soon became long forgotten as their conversation seemed to flow effortlessly between them. 

For all their sarcastic quips, Jude couldn’t help but feel foolishly delighted by Cardan. She was certainly physically attracted to him, but she started to feel more attracted to his personality as well. Being around him felt as though someone looked into her heart and saw the most ridiculous, most childish desire there, and had plopped it down in front of her. It felt like a prank.

When they’d reached a lull, she asked, “When do you move to Paris?”

He cringed ever so slightly. “Next August. I graduate in May though, so I have some free time beforehand.”

She nodded. In eight months, he’d be on the other side of the globe. Before that, he would be a six hour drive, in fair weather, from her at University. Jude couldn’t help but feel a sense of foreboding that this may be the last time she’ll ever see him.

She opened her mouth to say as much, when a soft melody slowly drifted from the jukebox. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Vivi and Heather quickly dash out the diner and into the night. 

Cardan laughed slightly before turning towards her, “I think that’s our cue.”

He stood up and offered a hand towards her, asking her for a dance.

Jude simply took his hand and let him lead her to the narrow lane of checkered tiles. He set his hands on her waist, and Jude placed hers on his shoulders. This close, she could really see the contours of his face, the way his upper lip had a small scar through it, how his eyelashes splayed almost haphazardly. He was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.

The diner felt so at odds to their situation. She wasn’t supposed to meet him here. She was supposed to be New York or London or Shanghai or some other place she’d only seen pictures of. She was supposed to have a lifetime with him, not this stolen moment in a shitty diner. She was supposed to have direction in her life. As the song changed, and his hand slid out to grab hers, Jude pretended she was a queen. It was silly, but she imagined them as king and queen of a far away land sharing a dance in an empty ballroom.

It seemed he shared her grim thoughts as he murmured, “I really hope this isn’t the last time I see you.”

She looked up at him and hummed her agreement. “We can exchange numbers.”

“Oh?” he asked with mirth. “I was hoping we would just send letters via carrier pigeons.”

Jude rolled her eyes, blushing slightly. “What are we, fae?”

Something seemed to change in his eyes as he looked at her, and Jude couldn’t help but lick her lips. 

“No,” he said quietly. “But I do find you distressingly magical.”

It felt like a dumb thing to say in the moment with dimmed lights and the ambient music, but Jude found she didn’t care as he brought his lips down to hers. Their kiss was soft and felt almost sinful at how chaste it was. Jude dragged her hands into his messy locks as his began to roam her back. His tongue came to press against the seam of her lips, which she opened for him without hesitation. Though it was passionate, their kiss was gentle and sweet like they didn’t want to break whatever was between the two of them, like they had all the time in the world. It almost brought tears to her eyes.

Jude was unsure of how long they stood there or when Cardan had backed her against a wall, all she knew was that kissing him felt like she’d learned how to breath for the first time. It made her insides feel molten, and her mind powerful. If someone as beautiful as him deemed her special, then maybe she could be. It filled her up and made her feel whole. When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers but kept his eyes closed. 

His breath came out ragged. 

She whispered into the small space between them when it seemed he wouldn’t speak first. “I am really glad I met you.”

He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. 

“And I you.”

Her heart twitched at that, and she pulled him back to her lips again. He indulged her desires, hand grazing up her thigh, coaxing it around his waist. She felt like she could never, would never get enough of this, of him. She moaned as much into his mouth as her other leg came to wrap around his waist. His mouth left hers and began to explore her neck. It was obvious from the way he moved that he was incredibly more experienced than her.

It didn’t stop her from reaching for the buttons of his blouse.

Her hands seemed to snap him out of whatever had settled between them. He actually had the audacity to pull back again. It felt heady, and Jude was now the one squeezing her eyes shut.

“I should probably get back to my room,” he whispered.

She opened her mouth to protest, and he shook his head as he said, “I was supposed to be home today. I don’t have service to tell my brother I’ll be late. I need to be back as early as possible if I don’t want to upset him too much.”

Jude opened her eyes. Cardan wasn’t looking at her, and he almost seemed in pain.

It was something Jude hoped to never see again, and leaned in to peck his lips. Regardless, she respected his restraint and nodded. It really was getting late and he still had a drive ahead of him tomorrow. He set her down, pulled her in tight once more, and pulled out his phone to exchange numbers. When they finally left the place, Jude supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised that he helped her clear off her car before he gave her a few pecks and stomped back towards his room. 

The wind whipped his hair in a whole mess of directions, and the snow dusted little white flecks throughout. Right before he unlocked his door, he turned towards her and waved. She raised her hand in response, knowing that he probably couldn’t see her anyway. She hoped this wasn’t the last time she saw him.

-o-0-o-

Though it had physically pained him, Cardan knew that they had to end their little make out session early. Balekin would kill him if he arrived looking exhausted and as though his delay was due to tumbling in the sheets with someone. Thinking of Balekin seemed like wasted mental energy when he had just met Jude, his Jude. 

When she’d turned around towards him, he thought that she was one of the most beautiful people he’d ever seen. When she’d said those words to him, he thought he might pass out. Her wicked tongue and thoughtful curiousness made him want her more. Jude made him wish that he had never applied to positions in Paris. 

Not that he’d change his mind, just that he felt like the he was being torn from one of the best things in his life. He continued down this line of thought as he removed his outfit and washed his face. As he crawled under the covers, his driving experience and the late hour started to really weigh on him, but he still pulled out his phone to try and send one text. 

Almost ten minutes of writing and rewriting variants of the same message, he decided on something simple. The universe seemed to support this decision and let his three little words send. 

Goodnight Jude, dear.

It seemed to support him even more when he actually got a response. 

Goodnight, Cardan. <3

He would never admit the cheeky grin that consumed his face as he fell into a deep sleep.

-o-0-o-

Masterlist

#jurdan #Jude x cardan #tfota #tcp #twk #holly black #Jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #high queen of elfhame #taryn duarte #vivienne #vivi x heather #my fanfic #mine #jurdan fanfic #jurdan hc #soulmark #jurdan soulmark #jurdan soulmate

[goldenmessenger]

TS Actor AU: Reach Out Your Hand Pt 1

Summary: Before recovery can come, you have to admit you have a problem first. In 2019, Roman’s been clean for about 6 years. In 2011, however? Clean is a long way away. He’s alone. Isolated. No-one to turn to. Except he might have one person. But Roman’s ignored him for the last 4 years. But then the voicemail comes.

Read on Ao3 here.

A/N: Hey everyone! So, I’m currently working on a multi-chapter fic set after the last two fics. But that’s probably going to take me a while. So in the meantime, have this fic that’s set 8 years before the others. This is some backstory on Roman, Remus, and Dillon, and how Roman got on the first steps to recovery. Also, I meant for this to be a one-shot, but it’s going to be a two-parter. It’s too long to post all at once. I apologize in advance for this, it’s really intense and a lot of whump and angst. I promise part 2 will make up for everything, and that’ll be up tomorrow.

As usual, let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! And once again, I apologize.

Content Warnings: Drunken texts, drug abuse, drug overdose, mild violence (vague mention), self-deprecating thoughts and language, whump, angst

****************************

Thursday, March 20, 2008

Sent at 11:24pm

Text from (xxx) xxx-xxxx:

happhy B-day roe

its me Rekus

Remus

i gootta new phonee 

im sorry

iwas the worts 

woest

worsr 

Cant typw

To drukn 

Miss u tho

First b-day wit out u

Do u mis me to?

See u on th news

Got that moie 

Movie deal u wanted

Hop ur doin wel 

That ur happy

M not

Mis u

Love u

****************************

Friday, March 20, 2009

Sent at 2:00 pm

Text from (xxx) xxx-xxxx:

Hey Ro, happy birthday,

it’s me again. 

I wanna apologize for the mess that I sent last year. Thought you’d like to know I’m in a much better place now.

I’m in college in San Francisco, probably gonna live there after.

Gotta boyfriend, just like you always said you would if we didn’t have to deal with everyone’s expectations.

Went to therapy, boyfriend’s idea

Though he was just a best friend then

It’s been really helpful. 

I was so awful to you. 

I honestly wouldn’t blame you if you never wanted to see me again

You don’t have to forgive me, I just want a chance to talk

If you want to meet up

Just let me know

****************************

Saturday, March 20, 2010

 Sent at 10:00 am

Text from (xxx) xxx-xxxx: 

Hey Ro

Happy birthday again. 

At this point, I know you probably won’t reply

This probably isn’t even your number anymore. 

I don’t know why I keep texting you though

Closure, perhaps?

An inability to let go?

Whatever it is, it’s kinda sad

I can’t stop though

If by any chance you are reading this, please respond

I don’t care if it’s to say you hate me, or never want to talk to me again, please

I need you

I need my brother

****************************

Sunday, March 20, 2011

Sent at 10:00 am

Text from (xxx) xxx-xxxx: 

Happy birthday Ro!

This will probably be the last time I text you. 

My boyfriend, Dillon, pointed out that if you were going to reply, you would’ve already

I need to move on

I need to heal 

I still love you though 

You’ll always be my brother

****************************

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Sent at 11:00 am

Text from (xxx) xxx-xxxx: 

Ro

Ro, what the hell?

I know I said that I wouldn’t text again 

But I just saw the news

You punched someone?

What on earth

I’d honestly be kinda proud of you if I wasn’t worried

Are you doing ok? 

That’s not like you. 

I was always the violent one. 

I know what I said before, but if you need anyone to talk to, I’m here. 

I won’t be waiting for you anymore, but I’ll still be here for you, if you need me.

All you need to do is reach out.

****************************

Sunday, August 15, 2011

Missed Call at 1:00 am

Voicemail from (xxx) xxx-xxxx: 

 “Ro—Roman! Please, please tell me you’re there, that you’re alright—

I just heard, apparently you’ve been missing for two weeks? Two whole weeks, and I didn’t know—

Please call me back, or text if that works better! Please, no one knows where you are, if you’re ok, nothing!

I — I can’t lose you Roman.

I mean, maybe I did already, maybe I did a long time ago—

But that was different. At least you were alive. You were happy. At least, I thought you were happy. I’m not so sure about that anymore. 

But if by some miracle, some crazy insane miracle you still have this number, if you’re ok, please please let me know. 

I love you so much Ro. 

I don’t think I ever said it enough, but I do. So, so much. 

I hope wherever you are, you’re ok.”

****************************

The dark hotel room was illuminated only by the screen of his phone. He stared at it with glassy eyes, unseeing, as the message finished playing. Roman was leaning against the bed, sitting on the floor. His phone was gleaming on the ground next to him. 

Roman had read Remus’s texts as they came, of course, but he hadn’t thought they were sincere. That they were real. Nothing else in his life was, not even his own parents. So why should his own twin be an exception? But he didn’t delete the texts or block the number. He let the messages keep coming. And he didn’t know why. 

Maybe because part of him had wanted to hope. Why else would he be where he was now? Why else would he have used the most of the little money he had left to get himself here? Here in a dingy little motel on the edge of San Francisco. He hadn’t told anyone where he was going, not that anyone cared. Maybe Remy might’ve. Remy, who Roman realized now might’ve been his only real friend. At least, he could’ve been, if Roman hadn’t pushed him away when Remy had attempted to convince Roman he had a problem. Pushed him away just like Roman had done to everything else good in his life. 

That’s why he hadn’t contacted Remus yet. Why he’d sat here in this room with it’s flea-ridden bed and peeling wallpaper for almost two weeks now, only leaving to buy food from the nearby convenience store. Remus’s texts had seemed like he was doing well. Roman had looked at his Facebook too. Remus was in college, was living with his boyfriend, a job working as a tech at a local theater. He seemed happy. Roman couldn’t bring himself to ruin that like he ruined everything else. 

But that voicemail—he hadn’t ever heard Remus sound so frightened before. So worried. And about Roman, of all people. Why? Why on earth? Sure, they’d been close as kids, but they hadn’t even been in the same room for years. And Roman had ignored all of Remus’s attempts to make contact since. He couldn’t understand it. It made his head hurt. He was feeling bitterly jittery, and not very glittery. 

That was a weird sentence. When did his thoughts stop making sense? He needed his pills, needed them. He couldn’t deal with all of these thoughts and emotions. He needed them to go away. He needed them to stop. He fumbled on all fours for the bottle, and finally found it, open and empty. That wasn’t right, it’d been full only...only...he couldn’t remember. A wave of dizziness hit him, and he pitched forward, face planting into the ground. 

Something wasn’t right. Why was his brain so fuzzy. Everything hurt so much, he couldn’t think. He needed help. He needed Remus. He somehow managed to find his phone, and hit the contact simply labeled “R.”

The phone rang. And rang. Finally, it was picked up. And a familiar voice spoke.

****************************

Remus ran his hand through his sleeping boyfriend’s hair. It was a calming motion that somewhat helped to calm his racing mind. But not by much. Dillon had attempted to convince Remus to rest, but Remus couldn’t sleep. Not when Roman was missing. He’d gotten the news around midnight, from a former friend of Roman’s, Remy. 

Remy had been the one to tell Remus that Roman had been struggling with a drug addiction, though Remy didn’t know how long. He’d tried to get Roman some help as soon as he found out, but the other man had rejected it and broke off their friendship. Remy had gone to Roman’s apartment that morning to attempt to repair their relationship, with the hope that he could eventually convince Roman to get some help. But he was nowhere to be found. The door was unlocked, and there was two weeks worth of mail on the floor. He’d found Remus’s number on accident, on a post-it on Roman’s fridge, labeled “Bro.” That’s when he’d called Remus and, upon finding out he was Roman’s brother, told him everything.

Remus didn’t quite understand why Roman had his number saved like that, but the more pressing concern was finding Roman. Remus attempted to call Roman several times, each one going straight to voicemail.

He didn’t blame Dillon for falling asleep though. Remus would if he could. He couldn’t though. The hand that wasn’t running through Dillon’s hair had a death grip on his phone. He couldn’t stop staring at it, praying to anyone who would listen that it would ring.

He didn’t know what he expected though. Roman had never responded to him in the past, so why would now be any diff— 

“I’m a Barbie Girl, in a Barbie wooorld

Life in plastic, it’s fantastic...”

Remus startled as his phone’s ringtone filled the room. Next to him, Dillon shifted and blinked tiredly at him. 

“Why on earth do you still have that obnoxious song as your ringtone?” Dillon questioned, a little grumpy at being woken so unceremoniously. 

“You can brush my hair, undress me everywheere

Imagination, life is your creation...”

Remus could barely hear him. He could barely hear his own ringtone. All he could do was stare at the name that lit up the screen.

Lil bRO(man)

“Come on, Barbie, let's go party!”

Dillon looked up at Remus, the sleep slowly fading from his gaze as his brain slowly began to catch up.

“Re, what’s wrong?”

“I’m a Barbie Girl, in a Barbie wooorld

Life in plastic, it’s fantastic...”

The chorus of the song began to repeat, and Remus knew he was running out of time. This was something he’d wanted for years, and now, it was happening right in front of him. But he was frozen. For some reason, he couldn’t answer the phone.

“You can brush my hair, undress me everywheere…”

When Remus didn’t respond, Dillon sat up, and saw the phone lying limp in his boyfriend’s grasp.

“Imagination, life is you—”

Quick as a lightning bolt, Dillon grabbed the phone and hit ANSWER before it could go to voicemail. Almost as quick, he hit the speaker button.

There was a long moment of silence. Too long. Finally, Remus’s voice returned.

“Ro, is that you?” He asked, hopefully. “Are you ok, are you hurt, where—”

“Re. I— I didn’t acshully think you’d anshwer.”

Roman’s familiar voice leaked through the speakers like water through a broken dam. Despite Remus’s relief, however, he immediately recognized something was wrong. One look at Dillon’s face told Remus that he’d heard it too. The way Roman’s words slurred themselves together. Remus took a deep breath. He knew how to handle this. He just needed to stay calm.

“Of course I would.” Remus said sincerely. “Ro, why don’t you tell me where you are? Maybe I can come to you and we can have this conversation in person?”

However, Roman didn’t seem to hear Remus’s question.

“I meshed up Re, meshed up big time, I ran ‘way from evything ‘cause I shcrewed up, an’ now I’m losht an’ allone an’ I jus’ wanted to hear your voishe one lasht time…”

Remus felt his heart seize in panic at those words. He grabbed the phone out of Dillon’s hands as the man looked on worriedly. Remus clutched that phone like it was his lifeline. No, Roman’s lifeline.

“Roman, wait, what do you mean, one last time? Where are you, what’s going on?”

“Ate too many of th’ pret-ty white circles, and now I can’ shtand up right and m’ brain won’ work.”

Roman’s voice grew thick, and it began to sound like he was crying.

“M sorry Re, ‘m an awful brother. I can’ do anything righ’ an’ I was too much of a cow-ward to tell you I was here.”

Remus’s eyes widened in shock as his brain processed the information. White circles, didn’t a lot of pills take that form? Including addictive ones. And Roman was here? San Francisco?

He looked over to Dillon to find that his boyfriend had his own phone out, and was callling someone. Dillon caught his gaze, and mouthed 911. Keep him talking. Remus took a deep breath. He needed to keep it together. For Roman’s sake. 

“Roman, you’re going to be fine, just tell me where you are, and I’ll be right there. You said that you’re here? Where is here?”

“Th’ golden ci-ty, home of Saint Franny. Wan-ed to talk to you, couldn’ get up th’ nerve. ‘M in this shtupid lil hot-tel, it schucks. Bayshide Mot-tel, I think. Rom 320. Picked it cause it wash our birth-dayte.”

Remus quickly glanced over to Dillon urgently, and his boyfriend began relaying Roman’s location to the paramedics. 

“Ro, we’ll be right there, just hold on, ok? We’re on our way.” 

No response.

“Roman, Roman!”

Silence echoed from the other end of the line. 

“No, nononononono no! Roman, please!”

In a dark dingy motel room several miles away, the only sound was a brother’s anguished cries, and the only light was that of a cracked phone screen next to a limp hand.

****************************

AN: Again, I’m really sorry about this cliffhanger, and I will fix it tomorrow.

****************************

TAGLIST:

@ironwoman359

@galacticguppy

@trashpanda-remus 

@atticusfinchthelegend

@ravenclawunicorn1

@voidvirgil

@dogwithpants

@dreaming-about-kittens

#ts actor au #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #my writing #my au #remus sanders #deceit sanders #roman sanders #remy sanders #sympathetic deceit sanders #sympathetic remus sanders

[monst]

T’is the season Day 31

Last TDS fic how ya feel?? Happy New years guys ^.^ let’s have some more fun next year yeah?

All Might, Midnight, Nezu, Stain, AFO, Best Jeanist! (In order so ya can skippies the ones u no likeies)

Warnings: Dark Chocolate, Death mentioning? Or mentions of impending death? Also I don’t know about ya but I found Stain to be so hot o////o Oh and Best Jeanist spoiler. (Also AFO & Stain make more sense if you’ve read Day 25 pt1 AFO)

All Might! (Toshinori Yagi)

               No one could get in touch with him. It was as if he was avoiding everyone. Well avoiding you. He had been ever since he had used up the last of his power in the fight with All for One. You knew because he’d do everything in his power to try to get out of the area you were in quickly, his responses to you were short and curt. And, in all honesty it as beginning to hurt you. You didn’t confront him wanting him to speak to you out of his own free will but, it was almost a new year. You didn’t want to start it off without him. So, you confronted him….

               “Toshi! Wait.” You had blocked him off and even though he could easily move out of the way he choose to listen. “I think I know why you’ve been avoiding me…. And, I want you to stop. Please stop avoiding me, it’s hurting me a lot more than what you think.”

               “I-It’s better this way (Name)” He sighed. “At least this way when it does happen you won’t feel the sting so much.”

               “You idiot!” You shouted. Reaching up to yank his shirt to pull him down to your height. Tears welled in you eyes as you glared at him. “I want to be with you. Why don’t you get that? Even if you don’t have much time here... I want to spend your last moments together. I don’t want our last words to be a ‘See you tomorrow at work (Name)’! I want to make more memories with you before that. S-so please Toshi Please j-just-“An ugly sob racked through your body and the tall man wasted no time in wrapping his arms around you. With your face buried in his chest you wailed freely. When you pulled away your eyes were puffy, and you sounded a bit nasally. “I-I just want to spend the n-new years with you and p-pray that you’ll get to see m-most of it. W-with me if y-you’d like.”

               He gave you a melancholic smile and with a nod he spoke: “I’m sorry for thinking ignoring you would hurt less. Let’s spend the rest of the time I have left together. And, whatever this new year is going to bring, I’ll be happy to share it with you. The laughs the tears all of it. And, when I do go It’s with good memories. No more ignoring let’s walk until the road ends...”

 Midnight (Nemuri Kayama)

               “Got any plans?” It was those words that had brought you to where you were now. Nemuri had asked you that the day before the end of the year and, you had replied in earnest. You had no plans and she was eager to invite you to a party. And, not one of those faculty ‘End of the year bash’ parties that Nezu threw. So, there you were your closet’s best framing your form and a cute smile on your lips.

               “That guy is totally checking you out.” You heard the erotic hero say. Your smile fell. The last thing you wanted was to end up in the arms of a stranger drunk off your ass. You didn’t not want to wake up on the first with a roaring hangover in a dingy motel bed. ‘No thank you’ you thought looking back at Nemuri.

“Well that’s to bad he’s gonna have to look elsewhere because I’m staying right here with you!” You chirped. “Besides we said we’d do the countdown together.”

Much to your disappointment he came over. You groaned and looked to Midnight as he stood beside you. His ratchet breath tickled your nose and you cringed at what he said. It was the grossest most slurred pick up line you had ever had the misfortune of hearing.

“Soo pretty thang whaddya say~” You scrunched up your face in disgust. And before his hand could touch you Nemuri slapped it away.

“I think you should go your making my girlfriend very uncomfortable.” Her tone serious as she spoke.

“Girlfriend ha!-“ before he could finish Nemuri stood up her eyes slits.

“Are you sure you want to finish what you were going to say? Because I can’t guarantee that you’ll have teeth afterwards.” She threatened. You looked away, You thought she looked hot when she was mad. However, you brought your attention back to them when he went to hit your girl. But, as a pro hero Nemuri was able to knock him out effortlessly with her quirk. You both looked to each other then to the man on the ground.

“He got drunk and passed out.” You interjected.

“He got drunk and passed out.” She agreed, laughing as she sat back up on the bar stool. She slid her hand into yours and smiled. “Why is everyone trying to steal you away from me?” She teased.

“It’s because I’m amazing.” You sassed.

“That’s got to be it.” She grinned. “We missed the countdown you know.”

“Did we?” You hummed leaning in closer to her.

“Yup.” She smiled her nose brushing against yours.

“Well then how about we have one of our own?” You whispered.

“3”

“2”

It wasn’t exactly twelve but, it was the best first kiss of the year you’ve ever had.

Nezu

               You let out a groan as you stretched all your joints popping pleasantly. With a deep relived sigh, you turned off the computer. You had finally finished the lesson plans for next year and you were beat. You didn’t have anyone to celebrate New Years with and you really didn’t mind it as much. Once upon a time you had but after years of hero work and teaching it all just became a blur and another day. So, you never really had any issues working through holidays.

Your co-workers had all left to celebrate the coming of the new year. In fact, they left hours ago it was Eleven. They had plans. You had been invited but you refused. You didn’t feel the need to party when you had so much work to do. You were also regarded as a bit of a buzz kill and, you didn’t want to be the wet blanket at the get-together.

You stacked the papers that you needed to give to the principal and made your way to his office. Your brows furrowed when you noticed that the light of the room was one. You thought that maybe someone left them on. But you knocked to make sure. And, when you heard a muffled come in you knew the doctor was in.  

“Hey” You greeted “What are you still doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing (Name).” He replied taking a sip of his coffee.

“Right. Well I finished the lesson plans for the next semester I have them here if you want to go over them.” You offered since the both of you obviously had nothing better to do.

He nodded and you pulled up a chair to join the cute small bear, rat thing. You both went over the material with him making comments and you adding to the curriculum. When the clock struck twelve you jumped. Not only at the noise but because Nezu shot up from his seat and scurried to a cabinet off to the side in his office.

You would admit to being surprised when he pulled out a bottle of brandy. Hell, you didn’t even know he drank anything other than liquid caffeine. When he hopped back up his chair, he handed you a glass that was in his desk. You were slightly embarrassed when he poured you a drink as he was your superior.

“Happy New years (Name).” He smiled raising his glass. “It isn’t exactly champagne but I wasn’t expecting company on New years.”

“It’s fine.” You mumbled clinking your glass against his letting the liquid burn your throat. “You always drink alone in your office.”

“I’m always here on holidays.” He hummed pouring himself another.

You swirled your drink a bit before deciding to ask him something. “You mind If I join you on those days?”

“Not at all” He chirped “Some company is fine on days like this, don’t you think?”

“Maybe.” You grinned.

 Stain (Akaguro Chizome)

               (Part of the same story line as AFO Christmas)

You were working New Year’s as well. But, could anyone blame you? For starters you had no one waiting for you at home, you didn’t really have people who invited you to things and lastly the pay was tripled. After what happened on Christmas with AFO you had wanted to quit. But you figured that it would be hard to find such a good high paying job. Besides you were good at being a guard and you weren’t about to let some eyeless bastard dictate your life.

Speaking of villains, the area you had jurisdiction over seemed to be filled with the worst of them. And, you wouldn’t lie you had fun asking the villains of Tartarus questions. But your personal favorite was the hero killer. Due to your high rank no one bothered you when you went to chat with the blood quirked man.

In the back of your mind you heard AFO speaking to you, but your quirk easily dissipated the use of his quirk and you severed his mind link. Afterall you wanted to speak with Akaguro.

You used your card to unlock the door and, entered the white room. When you entered the room, you ignored the chair in the center and went to the glass separating you from the villain. His bloodshot eyes followed your movement in boredom and, when you leaned your back against the glass he spoke.

“Why are you always here.” He rasped.

“What? Can’t I visit my favorite prisoner to wish him a happy new year?” You teased.

He scoffed at your words. What was there to look forward to? Taco Tuesdays? Pizza Friday? Your random visits to his cell? Actually, he looked forward to those. Everyone else thought his views were bogus but, you actually listened to him. He liked hearing you comment on his views of society. What he loved more was that you tastefully agreed with some of his points. You truly were the only capable person in this hell hole. At least that’s what he thought.

“Chizome I’m curious.” You began. “Why the hell didn’t you become a hero instead? Like if you had the clout and attention of the masses people might have put two and two together and, you could have made a reformation movement.”

“Why? I didn’t want to soil myself by becoming the same type of scum as those fake heroes.” He sneered. “And, why are you asking me the same thing again. You’ve been coming here often.” He mused suspiciously. “You look like a rat scurrying away from a large prey.”

“Wow thanks.” You rolled your eyes turning to look at the extremist man. Your eyes looked to the sides suspiciously as you leaned in closer. He too moved in closer. And, in a voice barely above a whisper you spoke. “That man, he’s been trying to talk to me.”

“AFO?” he questioned. You nodded grimly. “Then tell one of those shitty doctors to up his sedation meds.”

“And, have them be suspicious as to why he’s speaking to me?!” You whisper yelled Stain just shrugged.

“That sounds like a you problem.” He dropped to the ground to perform pushups and you groaned.

“Come on Chizome I thought we were pals?” You whined.

He glared at you. “Are you serious? You’re a prison guard (Name).”

“So?” You pouted.

“Get out.” He sighed continuing his set. “I can’t deal with the stupidity coming out of your mouth right now.”

“Did you get flustered?” You snickered.                “Shut up.” He grumbled.

“Oh, you did!” You grinned. “Well I’ll leave you to your pointless sweating, Happy new year’s Chizome!” You called exiting his cell.

“Whatever.” He huffed he’s face feeling warm. But it was because he was working out! It wasn’t because you thought of him s a friend! Definitely not!

  AFO

               After you left the hero killer’s cell you could feel it. His presence that is. You had cut him off from your mind, but you could still feel him trying to push in. You were just grateful that even though he had a multitude of quirks he wasn’t proficient in all of them. Telepathy being one of his weaker ones as he had admitted during your conversation that one Christmas night.

               Tired of his insistence that felt like a constant poke at the back of your head you walked to his cell. You wouldn’t risk going inside. Even you would be heavily questioned if you entered his room without a medic or another guard. Therefore, you resorted to glaring at him from the small square window on the door. And you dropped your mental fire wall.

               ‘What the fuck do you want potato head.’ You hissed in your mind link with the criminal.

               ‘My, my such awful treatment to your elders (Name).’ His voice echoed in your mind. ‘I believe the Hero Killer was treated with much more respect than that.’

               ‘So? I don’t think that’s any of your business.’ You sassed. ‘And, I told you the 25th stop trying to communicate with me. Whatever it is you have to say, say it to someone else. As a matter of fact you can go ahead and tell All Might. I think he’d be down for another visit.’

               ‘This brash way of speaking will no doubt get you in trouble.’ You could hear the frown in his voice. His distaste at your brazen disrespect hung was palpable. ‘I don’t appreciate this tone in which you speak to me in’

               ‘Boo fucking hoo.’ You continued ‘Are you gonna do something about it?’

               ‘Not when your hand is above the emergency button.’ He answered .

               You felt a chill run down your spine. ‘Just how powerful is he.’ You thought ‘Is he fucking omnipresent now??’

               ‘Not quite’ He chuckled ‘I can teach you how to do it as well.’

               ‘Offering me power isn’t gonna get you anywhere.’ You hissed.

               ‘No, I suppose it isn’t not with your abilities. I just offer you help in understanding how to use them.’ He proposed.

               ‘No thanks.’ You spat ‘Now if that’s all you had to say I’m leaving.’

               ‘(Name)’ He called.

               “What!?” You snarled.

               “Happy New Year, He’s to seeing more of you this year.”

               “Doubtful.”

 Best Jeanist (Hakamata Tsunagu) :’)

               You weren’t one to partake in Hatsumode. You usually let the year roll in and didn’t think of temples or shrines. And, you felt a bit silly for being there in your warm kimono. You were one of those who didn’t believe in superstitions especially ringing a bell for a wish. It was part of your culture, but you had never liked it. Well that was before, now it seemed as though it was your only hope.

               You stood in the long line waiting to get to the front. It didn’t matter that the cold nipped at your skin. It didn’t matter that you couldn’t feel your toes. No one else had given you any answers or results. When you finally reached the front, you tugged on the thick rope and clapped your hands to pray. Pray for what? For Hakamata Tsunagu known to the public as Best Jeanist. After his aid in the fight with AFO he disappeared.

               You just wanted him back. You could feel how your tears escaped your tightly closed eyes. And you knew that those behind you were getting impatient but what else could you do. You begged and pleaded to who ever heard to bring him back to you safely. Or at least to protect him. You begged that he would be able to come back. ‘Please, please, please I beg of you. Have mercy. Please let him be alive. Please bring him back. Please let him come home. Please allow him to see our son being born. Let him be okay. Please, please……please.’

               *Ring*

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[thecleverdame]

Control and Release - 19

Series Masterlist

TEDTalk!Sam x Reader

Summary: With the rest of the staff caught in a snowstorm, you find yourself acting as a personal assistant to the notorious Sam Winchester.

Warnings: Dom/Sub, humiliation, embarrassment, sexual objectification, mutual masturbation, spanking, cum play, fingering, anal play, orgasm control, nipple clamps, dub-con, breath play.

Beta: @ilikaicalie

Words: 4k

Parts 20, 21 & 22 are currently available on Patreon for a monthly pledge of $2.50. This includes early access to all my stories and Patreon exclusive content.  >> CLICK HERE <<

-

Sam’s lying on his back staring at the ceiling. One hand is spread over his chest, strumming his fingers, lost in his own mind. Is he nervous? Perhaps he’s uncomfortable having you here, now that the two of you are this undefined thing. You’ve been in his bed countless times but you can recognize this feels different.

“I feel like you’ve got something you need to say,” you throw out there, wondering if he’ll even respond. In the past when you asked a question he didn't like, he just ignored you.

“I don’t like labels,” he answers without skipping a beat.

There it is. Sam is just a guy, after all. A guy worried about labels and expectations. This must be killing him.

“I know,” you sigh.

“It’s ridiculous.” He’s disgusted.  “Are you my girlfriend? Are we in middle school?”

“You hate being like anyone else, don’t you?”

“Yes,” he retorts immediately, then lays there as a million silent thoughts swirl between you.

“So, we don’t define ourselves. Not right now, anyway. I don’t need a title to be with you.”

“Good,” he nods. “Neither do I.”

“But there are things that I do need,” you continue, feeling him suck the air right out of the room. “I need commitment. I need you to tear up that contract. I need you to push yourself, it’s gonna be uncomfortable.”

“I’m well aware.” His voice is even, resigned. He already knows all this but it still had to be said. After all, Sam always lays out clear expectations for you, so you figure he deserves them in return. Shifting gears he looks at you, reaching over to grab your wrist. “How do you feel this morning?”

“Better,” you explain. “A lot better than yesterday, not too overwhelmed.”

“I’m glad. I was worried about you,” he confesses easily.

He was worried. He cares. The thought is still a novelty.

“There’s work I need to do. I have conference calls all morning and all the senior staff are meeting downtown after lunch. This is going to be a mess, I can’t expect anyone to work in a building where people were murdered, we’ve got to figure an alternative workspace.” It’s not that he’s callous, well, yes he is, but he’s also running a billion dollar business. Shooting or no shooting he’s the person who makes sure all the balls stay in the air. “Will you be alright going to the doctor on your own?”

“Of course. I’m not falling apart, I’ll be fine.” That part is true, right now you're don’t feel much of anything.

“My schedule will balloon as the week goes on. If you need me you’re going to have to tell me so Pepper can rearrange my schedule.”

The office is closed for an undetermined amount of time but that doesn’t mean there aren’t legions of employees working from home, keeping the campfires burning while the situation evolves.

“It’s alright, really. I’ve actually got a lot I need to figure out. I was supposed to leave for Chicago. I sold all my furniture, gave up my apartment. I donated most of my clothes to Goodwill. I’ll stay busy.”

You watch him grimace, a look of pure displeasure pulling the corners of his mouth down. He takes a breath and clears his throat.

“You can stay here, with me,” he offers, looking at the ceiling fan.

“That’s not a good idea and we both know it. I’m here a lot as it is. Besides, you don’t really want me to move in.”

“No, I don’t,” he confirms, watching for your reaction. “It’s not you, I want you, I-”

“We both need our space, Sam.” You let him off the hook. “I don’t expect you to leap from weekend sex partner to a white picket fence. I get it.”

This seems to relax him a little, his face going slack and then another thought comes to him, this offer less laden with dread.

“You can stay at my place in the city. I’m only there a couple of nights a week.” He looks proud of his compromise and you hate to disappoint him but this isn’t what you want either.

“A couple of nights a week and the weekends is damn near close to living together. I want to get to know you organically. If this is forced I don’t think we’ll even have a fighting chance.”

“We don’t know each other?” he counters.

“No, we don’t.”

“What do you mean? We know each other.”

“Sam, you probably know me more than I know you, but we don’t really know each other at all outside of how to give each other an orgasm. We’ve got a lot to learn about each other.”

“Okay,” he looks like you’ve just given him a month to live.

“Why does that make you so uncomfortable?”

“I’m not sure there’s much to know.” He shrugs.

“Sure there is. Under all that well-manicured exterior you’ve got a lot going on, there’s a human being. I’ve seen him from time to time. That’s the guy I want to know more of. I want your past and your future. I get that’s going to be hard for you.”

“You might not like what you find.”

“Stop doing that. You always talk like I don’t know what I’m getting myself into. I know the very idea of opening up makes your skin crawl. But you’re gonna have to try. We both are.”

“Is this the start of you telling me what to do?” There’s a sly little smile, a hint of levity.

“Well,” you grin. “I can’t be submissive all the time. Sex is one thing but I’m a complicated person. I’m not always going to do what you tell me. That part of our dynamic has its place, but I need to be able to speak my mind. I’m one of the few people who’s going to tell you no.”

“I have no doubt.” Sam nods, clearly in his own thoughts.

You lie there a while longer, still struggling with the art of organic conversation.

“Your dad taught you how to do crazy stuff, huh?” you ask quietly.

He side-eyes you, taking a breath. “A lot of stuff I wish I could forget.”

“You saved lives, that has to be worth something.”

“I suppose.” He tilts his head back into the pillow. “It’s a miracle anything good could come out of the mess he made of our lives. I am the way I am because of him. Dean and I both suffered, we just dealt with it in different ways. In another life, you’d see my face on the five o’clock news too.”

“Why was your dad like that?” you whisper.

“My mother died. It was a house fire but dad couldn’t let it go. He couldn’t accept that the person he loved most was killed by faulty wiring. He needed to believe that it was bigger than that, some looming evil. Over the years he convinced himself, and my brother, that monsters existed.”

“Monsters, like...evil people?”

“No,” he snorts, turning his head to look at you. “Monsters like ghosts and demons. He brainwashed himself and then my brother. Even as a kid I knew something wasn’t right. The stories he’d tell. He pulled Dean out of school. We lived out of a car and motel rooms until I finally had enough and left to go to college.”

“I’m sorry,” you’re not sure what else to say.

“Don’t be.” Sam gives your arm a soft squeeze. “I need to get up, I’ll see you tonight.”

The day is filled with menial tasks that help distract from the weight of real life. You go to Macy’s in an attempt to flesh out your wardrobe and scout out a couple small apartments for rent. After lunch is your first appointment with a female therapist that you end up liking. It’s just the first session and you don’t really get into anything but you like her. There’s something about her that reminds you vaguely of your grandmother and you’re already looking forward to going back.

-

It’s almost midnight when Sam comes home, wandering into the kitchen where you’re eating peanut butter toast over the sink.

“Hello,” he looks at you, setting his briefcase on the counter.

“Hello,” you return, staring at the veins in the back of his hands as he sets a stack of mail on the counter. “Did you have a good day?”

“I don’t know about good,” he huffs, shrugging off his suit jacket. “It was productive.”

He looks at you, holding something back and then moves toward the pantry.

“Sam, can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he plucks a seltzer from the refrigerator and cracks it open.

“You haven’t touched me. I’ve been in your house, in your bed and you haven’t really touched me, not like you used to.”

“That’s not a question,” he volleys back, setting the bottle on the countertop.

“I guess it isn’t.”

“I didn’t know if that was something you’d want...or you’re ready for.”

“I’m not broken,” you inform him, slinking closer. “I’m ready.”

“I don’t have to be so...demanding. We can start slow and-”

“No.” You stare at him, both hands on the counter. “What happened, the shooting, made me feel like there was so much that’s out of my control. And there is. But when we’re together you’re in control and I trust you completely. I need you to be in control of me.”

He blinks, that familiar hungry look spreading from his eyes to his mouth. He shifts into a role that’s clearly much more comfortable for him, his hand palming the crotch of his pants.

“Take your clothes off.” It’s a straight forward, uncomplicated command that carries so much weight behind it. Those words are how he’s started almost every encounter from the beginning and it feels like a lifetime since last he said them.

You strip, shimmying out of your jeans, and pulling the tank top over your head. Your bra comes off next, leaving only cotton panties that you put on out of habit. He looks from your covered pussy back to your eyes, saying nothing. You leave them on and pull at your ponytail, letting your hair fall around your shoulders.

“I told you not to wear those.” He blinks, taking one step forward.

“I didn’t listen,” you look up at him, biting your lip. “I did a lot of things during the last couple of months. I used my vibrator, I put it inside me. I came without your fingers or your cock in my pussy. I’ve broken a lot of rules.”

Half of that is a lie. But it doesn’t matter, you want him to discipline you. You want his hands on you hard and dirty and rough. The punishment is always your favorite and you’ve craved it like you’ve craved his scent on your skin after he fucks you.

After everything that’s happened you want the intimacy of this sexual connection, boundaries, and limits he knows how to push, even when you don’t.

His eyes set, locking on your face with an expression that might be anger? Arousal? With him, it’s hard to tell, but it’s the exact reaction you were looking for. With two steps he’s got one hand in your hair, twisting until you’re on your tiptoes.

“Living room,” he growls, walking behind you, guiding you out into the main living area and toward the couch. After a final yank, he releases your hair, pushing you forward over the arm of the couch. “Bend over.”

You comply, quaking with excitement as you place open palms on the cushion, sticking your ass out.

“You need a reminder,” he explains. There’s a rustle of clothes, you know the sound well. You stay in place, prone and exposed as he rolls up one sleeve, then the other. After a moment his hands are on your ass, kneading your cheeks through the cotton. His thumb presses forward, wedging the material into your pussy. You’re already wet, the panties sticky with arousal as he confirms your excitement. “No panties was the first expectation I set for you. Did you forget?”

“No, I didn’t forget,” you confess, waiting for the reaction. But there is none, he doesn’t say a word as he hooks his fingers into the elastic and drags your panties down until they're around your thighs.

Crack.

The first snap of his hand comes down on your ass with a speed and force that knocks the air right out of your lungs. You yelp, face dropping into the cushion as a throbbing sting bursts to life. He’s not playing around.

“What do you say?” he asks, standing tall behind you, hands on his hips.

You know what he wants, the usual thank you that gets him off. But you have other plans.

“I don’t think I’ve learned my lesson,” you pant, getting back up onto your hands, assuming the position.

He grunts, taking a moment to look at your backside before inflicting the next set.

Crack.

Crack.

Fuck. Tears spring from your eyes as you blink wide trying to control your response.  This is right at the edge of your well-defined limit. These are the unyielding blows he’s only used twice before.

Crack.

Crack.

The next two are just as bad. You’re glad he can’t see your face because the tears would stop him. This isn’t the normal trickle from the corner of your eyes, this fucking hurts, these are tears of pain but there’s also something else underneath. The agony making the ache between your legs grow and pulse.

You want more.

“What do you say?” he asks again, a hand resting on your lower back as his thumb strokes back and forth.

“Harder.” The request comes as a plea, a desperate sound as you wiggle your ass back toward him. “Please, harder.”

There’s nothing and then he’s moving to the side, one hand pressing his weight into the base of your spine to keep you in place. His free hand is working at something and in a second your suspicions are confirmed when you hear his belt slip from its loops.

“Tell me what this is for?” he asks, the sound of leather on metal making you hyper-aware.

“I disobeyed,” you whisper, pressing your face into the couch. “I’m sorry, I need you to teach me a lesson.”

Then he gives you exactly what you need and you tip off the edge of that former limit and freefall into a new abyss of pleasure and pain.

Crack.

Crack.

Crack.

Crack.

The leather of his belt bites into the tender skin of your ass with sickening precision. You cry out, flinching as each stroke crosses over the previous, the pain bordering on unbearable. While it hurts it’s also incredible. You feel more alive than you have in a long time, squirming under his unrelenting hand.

Your clit is throbbing, pussy clenching and nipples hard as pebbles. In this kind of heightened state of arousal, you want all the vicious, wild fantasies that normally only cross your mind right before you cum. He could do anything he wanted to you when you’re like this and you’d get off on it.

You’re not sure if you can take it, but you still ask again. Your fists clench into a ball, fingernails digging into your palms.

“Harder,” you beg.

Crack.

Crack.

The lick of the belt strikes twice more and you rock forward, feet kicking as you suck in a breath.

“Thank you,” wheezing you turn your face to the side to take a full breath, feeling your backside thump with each beat of your heart, now racing in your chest. “Thank you.”

His fingertips ghost across your ass as he admires his handiwork. He’s never left a mark on you before, at least not from a spanking, but this will. You can already feel it.

“Get on your knees,” he instructs, his hand on your arms to help you up. When he sees your face he stops for a fleeting moment, wiping away tears before helping you sink down onto the carpet. “Open your mouth.”

You look up at him, bracing both hands on his thighs and taking his cock into your mouth.

“Right down your throat, take it all,” Sam orders, two hands curling into your hair to keep his shaft deep. It’s been a while and you gag at first, finally relaxing your throat and letting him begin to fuck you slow and rooted. He makes strained sounds, grunts, and groans only loud enough for you to hear.

There’s only the sound of his enjoyment and the wet, squelch of him fucking your mouth. Spit drips down your chin, eyes watering as you fight to take him deeper and deeper until his balls are rocking into your chin with every stroke.  

You’re sitting on your heels and you can feel the aftermath of his belt as you suck his cock with enthusiasm. You probably won’t be able to sit tomorrow, but it's worth it. No one else can make you feel like this. There’s a freedom in submission, letting someone else take total control and releasing that part of your mind. There’s no thought, no outside desires, just this moment and the way your body responds to every touch and stroke.

His hips speed up and you feel him getting close. You prepare for the taste of him on your tongue but instead, he pulls out, leaving you a panting, drooling mess looking up for instruction.

“I’m not even close to done with you,” he snaps, fisting his wet cock from base to tip. “Get up and get yourself into the bedroom.”

-

Your hands are tied behind your back, fastened securely with that notorious belt at the base of your spine. One of his ties is wrapped around your eyes, and your own white panties are balled up and shoved in your mouth as a gag.

You’ve been sitting in his lap for the better part of an hour with his thick, hard cock deep in your cunt. He hasn’t let you move, just sitting with a slick pussy stretched around his girth as he plays with your tits.

Your right nipple is on fire. He’s been taking turns sucking on them, but your right has become his favorite as his teeth sink into the swollen flesh, drawing a muffled groan from your lips. Your other nipple is caught between his thumb and forefinger, pinching hard and tugging until you think you can’t take anymore.

And your ass is on fire, those lashes left pain that springs to life as the hair of his thighs scratches over your buttocks.

You’re so fucking wet you can feel the slippery slide of your thighs over his, your arousal leaking from around his cock as you squirm, muscles tightening around his length. If he even gets near your clit you’ll cum. There’ll be no asking for permission, you’re desperate and right on the edge of slipping into ultimate pleasure as his mouth pops off your nipple, and his fingers close around the wet peak.

He’s got both nipples between his fingers now, pinching hard and twisting slowly, back and forth as you groan and sweat on top of him.

Sam’s taking his time.

“I’m going to cum on your tits,” he promises, voice low he pulls both nipples upward until they’re painfully taught. “Or maybe your face...would you like that? Make you get on your knees with your hands tied behind your back and cum all over this pretty face...let you have a little to swallow.”  

“Ahmm,” you nod yes, hissing as he works your tits. Before Sam, you never really had the desire to have man a blow his load on you, but right now you’d beg him to cover you in his spunk.

“Do you want to cum?” He asks softly, swapping back to suck on a sore and aching nipple.

“Heeze!” You garble enthusiastically.

Reaching up he pulls the panties out of your mouth, letting you take a normal breath.

“Ask me for it,” he commands, slapping your breast lightly.

You wiggle and groan with his cock stuffed deep, more eager to please him than he could probably imagine.

“Please let me cum, Sam, please.” You’re not ashamed to beg, grinding your hips downward, beginning to rock back and forth. “I wanna cum and I want you to cum all over me. Please, I wanna taste you so bad. Please. Please.”

“Fuck,” he grunts, lifting you off his cock with a flex of muscle. He hoists you easily over the side of the bed and deposits you onto the floor, reaching down to take your makeshift blindfold off.

You gaze up at him expectantly, sticking your tongue out as he thrusts his cock in your face and strokes himself. Moving closer he wedges a foot between your thighs, letting your clit rub against his shin bone.

“Make yourself cum,” he offers mercifully.

That wonderful combination of humiliation and desperation sets in as you urgently rub your cunt up and down his leg, leaving him wet with your slick. In no time you cum, jerking and moaning with your mouth open as your pussy clenches painfully around nothing. It’s an immense relief after all this time, humming and vibrating from head to toe.

Sam jerks himself faster until he’s spurting all over your face, coating you in hot ropes of seed, making sure to get some in your mouth. You’re still cumming as you swallow his spunk.  He lets the head of his dick tap your cheek, then slides between your lips for a gentle suck as he comes down from his own peak.

“Shit,” he sighs, finally pulling his cock from your mouth. “Here,” he drops down to his knees, releasing your hands then thumbing cum off your cheek. “I forgot how perfect you are.”

-

“We need a safeword,” Sam suggests, stepping into the shower behind you.

“Why?” you ask, looking back at him. “I guess I always thought our safe word was stop.”

“That’s fine, it can be, but we’ve never talked about it. I never thought we needed to be that...structured,” he explains, stepping under the spray.

“But we need one now?”

“We need one when you want me to leave those kinds of marks on you.” He nods toward your ass and you twist around trying to get a look at yourself.

“I don’t know what got into me, I just wanted it.” You blush, offering a small smile. “Too far?”

“No,” he shakes his head, slicking hair back with two hands. “I told you, as long as you’re getting pleasure from it, then I am too. But if we’re going to venture into a territory where you end up with bruises like that, I need to be one hundred percent sure that you want it. It would be easy for me to really hurt you, and I have no desire for that.”

“Okay,” you agree, looking him over from head to toe. You hope your new status, whatever that might be, will allow you this view more often. Sam is a beautiful man, long and lean and strong. He’s something to be admired and you’re the woman for the task. “Well, our safe word should be ‘stop’ then. No confusion.”

“Agreed,” he looks at you, water dripping from his hair and pulls you close, lowering his mouth down for a kiss that still feels forbidden. His lips are so soft compared to everything you just did, a sweet kiss that’s the cherry on top of a truly satisfying evening. When he pulls back he stays close, eyes sweeping over your face. “You should stay here with me until you find an apartment. I work so much you’ll have the place to yourself most of the time. I would like it if you stayed.”

“Then I’ll stay,” you confirm, leaning into him. “Just until I find something.”

-

Parts 20, 21 & 22 are currently available on Patreon for a monthly pledge of $2.50. This includes early access to all my stories and Patreon exclusive content.  >> CLICK HERE <<

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