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alexsoenomel · 3 months

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The Reveries Of My Mind (Dean Winchester x Reader fluff/smut)

Summary: What happens when you discover you can feel someone's torment and struggles through an unexplainable bond?

"Your struggles are mine. Your sadness is mine. You're mine."

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI , vanilla sex, dreams about the reader dying --not too graphic , first person fic

Word count: 6.7k

Note: I took my time with this one. I really like it. I've been struggling to write for so long it feels good to be back. Enjoy!

Like/ reblog or both if you like it :)

And a huge thank you to my wonderful beautiful best friend @ambergoddess444 for being the best beta reader <3

I’m gonna kill him.

I heard Sam’s voice echo in my mind as I was eating my pancakes. I looked at Dean who was stuffing his face with eggs and bacon, not really paying attention to Sam’s resting bitch face.

STOP CHEWING SO LOUD FOR THE LOVE OF CHUCK!

I heard him again and almost choked on my milk.

“What?” Sam asked.

“Oh, nothing,” I answered.

Dean just glanced at me and continued eating his breakfast.

It was Sunday and luck was on our side because we couldn't find a case. This would happen once in a blue moon so we were quite content with having a day off. Monsters sometimes sleep.

After breakfast Sam said he was going to go and catch up on some reading while Dean and I were left alone.

“Can I borrow Baby?” I asked, since it was July and summer was in full swing in Kansas. I wanted to forget about my job – about hunting – I wanted to go outside and feel the summer breeze in my hair in his beautiful Impala. I already knew his answer as soon as I saw his brow arch. He was very protective over his Baby; only allowed me to drive once after I begged him for my birthday.

Absolutely not.

“Why?”

I crossed my arms, my lips thinned.

“Why ask when you already gave me your answer?”

Dean raised his eyebrows, eyes widened as we were sitting at the table opposite of each other.

“I keep forgetting you can do that,” he said, looking away from me.

“You keep forgetting about your mental shield,” I told him as I went to the kitchen to get myself some coffee.

I didn't realize Dean was following me until I heard his voice.

“I can't just sit in silence and breathe while I think about nothing.”

“You mean to meditate?” I chuckled.

“Yeah…that.”

I took a sip of hot coffee Sam made after breakfast and turned around to face him.

“You have to strengthen your shield, Dean.”

“There has to be another way,” he said desperately as he poured coffee into his black mug.

“No there isn't, I told you. Everyone has a mental shield, but the reason why I can hear people's thoughts 99% of the time is because their shield is not strong enough. And how do you strengthen your shield? You shut up and meditate. Focus on it and build it.”

Dean wasn't pleased as he took another sip of his coffee.

“Sam meditates, can you still hear his thoughts?”

“I can, because it takes years to actually strengthen the damn shield and he started meditating six months ago.”

He just rolled his eyes as we went back to the library.

“I don't want you in my head,” he stated.

“I cannot help it, dumbass. Can I take the car or not?”

Dean took the keys out of his pocket and dangled them in front of my face. I tried to take them but he refused to give them to me.

Typical.

“I'm driving,” he told me with a smirk.

***

“Where do you want to go?” He asked me as I closed the car door.

“I don't have any particular destination in mind. I just wanted to drive around and listen to music.”

Dean gave me a soft smile before starting the engine. Baby was purring – I could never get tired of that sound; it was smooth and powerful – no wonder he was so protective of her. The car held memories, sacred moments and was filled with stories – good and bad.

“Sounds like a plan,” and with those words we were off.

We were on the main highway, heading to God knows where. Dean, of course being the driver, was controlling the music as well.

Dream On by Aerosmith was playing. I loved that song, but I was in the mood for Van Halen.

Driver picks the music. Shot-

“Shotgun what?” I smirked, glancing at him. I saw he gripped the wheel tighter and licked his lips.

“God, I hate when you do that,” he said. I chuckled.

Front windows were down, summer breeze in my face and hair gently caressing me as Crazy Train started playing. Ozzy was too chaotic for this drive. As much as I loved his songs I wanted something to ease my mind and not encourage my body to produce adrenaline. I dared to change the song.

Don't Fear The Reaper by Blue Öyster Cult.

Much better.

“Hey, I was listening to that,” Dean of course complained.

“Well not anymore,” I told him as I showed him a middle finger.

A chuckle left his lips before he spoke.

“Wanna grab a few drinks?”

“Dean I don't wanna get drunk at” – I looked at my phone to check the time – “11am.”

“You don't have to do anything you don’t wanna do. We can buy a few beers and go to our favorite hiding spot. If I get too drunk maybe, maybe I'll let you drive.”

I couldn't believe what I just heard. My heart was racing from excitement. Sam was always the designated driver; Dean would sometimes drive drunk without us noticing. I know that because he admitted that…while we were drinking after a successful hunt.

“Really?” I played skeptical; part of me was. “You're not afraid I'll crash your beloved car?”

“If you do, I'll kill you,” he looked at me and gave me a flat smile.

Fair enough.

“Well okay.”

She won't crash my car.

Well I think she won’t.

I hope she won’t.

I didn't say anything, just stared at the trees blurred on my right side as we passed by; absorbing the warmth and sunshine in my face.

It's My Life By Bon Jovi started playing.

Perfect.

Dean bought a couple of beers and some Slim Jims at the first gas station just before his favorite hiding spot.

The hiding spot was an abandoned house we found a few months ago when we were hunting a vampire nest. It was an old cabin in the middle of nowhere, a few miles away from the main road. After exterminating the nest, we started coming there every once in a while to relax and get away from everything that made us hunters. Sam completely forgot about that place but Dean and I would occasionally go, mainly at night to get away from the bunker’s haunting reminder of the life we were living. There we were just regular folk, drinking and having fun. The house was dusty and old, but dear to us, like a portal to a regular life and what we desperately wanted, but could never have.

As we were approaching the house I couldn’t ignore the strong sense of serenity coming from Dean. His mind was at ease, no racing thoughts, no sorrow he would usually carry within himself – he was happy. I’ve never told him about that; I know he would probably freak out – yell even – so I kept my mouth shut. I would be lying if I said it didn't freak me out as well. Every emotion he would feel, I would feel too and sometimes even twice as strong. It was like a bond of some sort; an invisible string connecting us and letting me see and feel every inch of his mind. I would wake up whenever he couldn’t sleep, I’d laugh whenever he’d laughed and I would get angry whenever he’d get angry…I felt everything and it was driving me insane not being able to talk to him about it, because it was only him I’d felt connected to.

I smiled at him when he turned off the engine, feeling the warmth in his soul. I got out of the car and stretched my legs, inhaling fresh summer air and soaking in the sunshine on my skin.

“Let’s have a picnic,” I suggested, “I don’t wanna go inside. The weather is beautiful.”

“A picnic? Here?” He asked, looking around. Nothing but endless grass fields around us; the highway was peeking through the greenery but we could barely see it anymore.

“You will be fine, princess,” I chuckled, “Besides it’s good to connect with mother nature every once and a while.”

Forest nymph.

He started calling me that when I told him about my love and admiration for nature and my passion for hiking and exploring woods. He told me no sane person loves hiking, but his younger brother understood. Now, occasionally I’d go hiking with Sam.

I ignored his thought, even though I wanted to tell him we weren’t in a forest, and found a perfect spot next to the house and sat down. He rolled his eyes and joined me.

Dean cracked two bottles and I opened one of my favorite honey BBQ Slim Jims and took a first bite. I loved the smooth texture and a light honey flavor mixed with BBQ aroma in my mouth.

“Cheers!” He said lifting his bottle for a toast.

“Cheers, for not dying!”

He chuckled.

“For not dying!”

One beer…

Two beers later we were both feeling the consequences of our own actions. I was tipsy due to my low alcohol tolerance while Dean seemed sober but was far from it. He had a strange gift – being able to fake sobriety. He had been doing it for years and now seeing him behaving like a drunken fool looked strange and unfamiliar.

He was looking at me; green eyes sparkling under the sun making me wonder if he and I were ever meant for something more. I was in love with the idea of being in love with him but it scared me more than death which I had experienced a couple of times. He was my best friend, my annoying best friend with a heart of gold and a shadow he wanted to remain hidden.

We stayed for hours, soaking in the sunshine and summer heat while reliving old memories and wondering if this life we had was worth it. We soon realized, it was.

“We still get to experience this,” I stated, showing him a butterfly that flew in that moment right in front of me.

“Butterflies?” He wondered, tilting his head a little in confusion.

“Nature, dumbass,” I smiled, “And other small pleasures, music, alcohol, food…and also knowing the world is less shitty because of us.”

He nodded in a silent agreement before hearing him call me forest nymph again. His warm green eyes fixed on me, making me a bit nervous. He didn't say a word.

“What?” I finally asked him.

His right hand went into the pocket of his jeans and he pulled out his car keys.

“You can drive,” he told me and gave me the keys.

***

When we came back home safely, since I didn’t crash his precious car, Sam was still in his room, probably reading and Dean decided to take a nap since naps weren’t a regular occurrence in our household.

I decided to continue the book I started a couple of weeks ago. I missed being able to read books I wanted, and not just ones for research purposes. I could still feel him. He was content. I smiled and opened my book.

An hour into the book and a picture flashed right in front of my eyes. I saw blood, so much blood on the sidewalk. Hairs on my arms rose as another frame appeared: it was a girl lying face down, head bludgeoned. A wave of fear rushed over me as I closed my book, not being able to simply ignore it. I knew exactly what this was – Dean’s nightmares – I knew exactly who this was.

Another flash. His hands, covered in blood. He was trying to wake me up. He was calling my name over and over again like a prayer of despair, but I didn’t wake up; I didn’t move an inch.

Usually I would ignore his nightmares; I was too afraid to say anything, afraid of his reaction and not being able to give him a good explanation, but my silence was killing me. Something told me – maybe it was intuition or my impulsiveness, or both – I had to wake him up.

Quickly I got out of my bed and rushed to his room. His jaw was clenched, his body seemed stiff under the white sheet that covered him just below his chin. I could hear quiet moans coming from him as another picture appeared right in front of me – he was on his knees, holding me tight, eyes bloodshot red and filled with tears…My heart broke in a second before I closed my eyes, trying to make it go away. As I approached him I could see his eyes fluttering rapidly beneath his closed eyelids, his forehead glistening with a faint sheen of sweat…I had to wake him up.

“Dean?” I whispered and sat next to him. A whimper escaped his lips.

“Dean?” I called his name again, this time a little bit louder and with a hand on his cheek. He was warm.

“Dean, wake up!” I could feel his shock as he shot his eyes open, taking a deep breath like he forgot how to breathe, shivers running through him – I could feel them all over my skin.

He took in his familiar surroundings before he looked at me.

“You had a nightmare,” I told him.

“Yeah, a really bad one,” he simply added, pinching the bridge of his nose. A headache started to settle as he got up and went to the bathroom to splash himself with cold water. He was only wearing black boxers and it wasn’t like I have never seen him shirtless, it was the fact that every time I did, I had to tell myself not to stare like a Victorian man seeing ankles for the first time.

I swallowed thickly without saying a word.

I have to tell him. I repeated that sentence over and over again. I have to tell him he deserves to know.

When he came back my eyes registered his bulge for a second before looking up. I was praying he didn’t notice.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Yeah, so much for napping,” he lied and started putting on his blue jeans. I knew he was lying, he would always lie and repress his emotions and needs. I knew he was exhausted. Those nightmares had been happening for a week straight; the exhaustion showing on his face in a form of dark circles; the once lively features now appeared subdued; eyes dimmed.

“I saw it,” I utter these three words without much thought.

“What?” He was about to button his red flannel, stopping mid through.

“I saw your nightmare, you have been having the same nightmare for a week now.”

I refused to look at him, but I could feel his eyes on me as he took my words in. I could feel a slight sting in my chest coming from him – shock.

“You can read minds AND see people’s nightmares?”

“Not people’s; yours. It only happens with you, I wake up every time you have a nightmare, I feel every emotion you feel,” – I took a deep breath before I continued; I knew him well enough to know he hated secrets, even though he was a damn hypocrite and had his own – “I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want to freak you out. I cannot control it, trust me I tried, but I can’t. It has been happening for a while and-”

His eyes once trusting shited and now held a hint of disappointment, his jaw clenched. Anger.

Anger and disappointment.

“For how long?” His deep voice echoed in my ears as he cut my frantic explanation short.

I froze. I knew this question was coming. I knew right there that keeping this thing a secret was a mistake. I couldn’t answer it. I couldn’t…

“For how long (Y/N)?” He demanded crossing his arms. I didn’t like the sound of my name when he was angry.

I stood up, barely feeling my legs before I answered: “A year.”

“Does Sam know?” The next question came out less angrily, his voice softer than seconds ago.

“No.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. It started as just me feeling whenever you were happy, it was hard to recognise it at first, I thought it was my happiness and then it progressed to other emotions like fear, anger and sadness and after that I started seeing your dreams. I didn’t tell Sam because I wasn’t sure what was happening.”

“And you didn’t tell me because…?” He asked like I hadn’t given him the answer.

“I told you I didn’t want to freak you out. It feels like I’m invading your privacy.”

He scoffed.

“No shit Sherlock!”

His eyes widened before he spoke again: “Wait, so that means you can feel whenever I get horny?”

I chuckled. “No, because being horny isn’t an emotion, Dean. It’s a state.”

“Oh thank God,” he expressed his relief.

“I do feel the sudden rush of endorphins and happy hormones every time you come though,” at this point I had nothing to hide, especially when I could feel his anger subsiding. It wasn’t like him to just ignore something that made him angry, but for whatever reason he was over it. Now he was mortified.

“Oh God!” He said and opened the door of his room. “SAMMY! GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE WE HAVE SOME RESEARCH TO DO!”

I swallowed a laugh before he turned around.

“We're gonna get to the bottom of this!”

***

Sam was genuinely surprised when I told him about the bond. He would usually try to find an explanation or guess what it was; this time he was silent. No logical explanation, no guessing, no nothing…

“Well that’s something I have never heard off,” he just told you and went to the library to try and find some books about…

Mind reading?

Bonds?

“I don’t even know what I’m looking for,” he said, looking at the spines of old books on the shelves.

“You’re telling me,” Dean agreed.

“It’s not like I’m a monster with abilities.”

My statement was enough to light a bulb in Sam’s head: “Yes but…” – he went to the second shelf behind you, like he knew what he was looking for – “You’re something else.”

Dean and I looked at each other in confusion before Sam pulled a book from the shelf.

“Indigo children?” I read the covers.

“Huh?” Of course Dean had no idea.

“I mean it makes sense, you said you were always highly empathetic, ever since you were a kid right?”

“Yes,” I nodded as he was flipping the pages trying to find a specific chapter. The book was annotated but it wasn’t his handwriting.

“Also you started reading minds when you were 7?”

“Well kinda.”

“Before that it was like a guessing game, you just knew?”

“Sort of.”

Chapter 54. Abilities.

Indigo children are children who are believed to possess special, unusual, and sometimes supernatural traits or abilities.

“I have been on this Earth for how long and I’ve never connected the dots,” I said, admiring my own stupidity and inability to dig deeper. I was never curious enough to find an explanation for my ability; never cared enough to think about it too deeply; when I started living with Sam and Dean five years ago I told them right away what I could do. They first thought I was Azazel’s long lost special kid, the one that was lucky enough to somehow hide in the shadows back when Azazel was still alive, but that wasn’t the case. My parents were killed by a vampire and I’d never met Azazel; I didn’t even know he existed until they told me. I only knew regular black eyed demons.

“So, you were a gifted kid? That still doesn’t explain your ability to do what you have been doing for a year,” Dean scoffed.

Who names gifted kids indigo kids? Seriously?!

You chuckled.

“Wait, you have been able to do that for a year?” You heard Sam, your eyes still on the book, trying to find something, anything that would indicate the existence of the said bond.

“Yes, why?”

“Go to chapter 55,” he told me. I flipped a few pages until I saw: Chapter 55, Soulmate bonds.

An Indigo child can stumble upon an unprecedented neural synchronization when encountering their soulmate. This synchronization extends beyond telepathic communication, as it involves the transmission and reception of emotional states and dream imagery, resulting in an intimate sharing of thoughts, feelings, and subconscious experiences. Although very rare, it is possible for an Indigo child’s soulmate to be mortal, with no supernatural abilities. If an Indigo child does encounter their soulmate the bond can snap into place usually after 4 or 5 years (one case showed it can also happen after six months).

“I read this book before we met so it never crossed my mind,” I heard Sam say as I was absorbing the information. I’d known him for five years…

Five years…

It made sense.

As I was reading the first chapter out loud Dean’s wave of shock made my heart beat faster as Sam went to the kitchen to get some booze. It was like he read my mind. I have never heard of his bond. As much as I loved the idea of Dean being mine, I knew he came with tons of baggage, untreated alcoholism, and rage so immense it made my stomach turn. I was no better though just with less intensity and alcoholism.

That’s bullshit.

My heart broke hearing these words, but I finally got the courage to look at him, and for the first time his face was unreadable. He was silent. And then he just left.

Sam came back with a bottle of whiskey in one hand and three classes in the other.

“Where’s Dean?”

“He left…to process, I guess,” I said before hearing Dean slamming the front door.

Sam, knowing me too well, didn’t say anything and just poured me a glass of Dean’s fine whiskey. I took a sip feeling a sweet burn down my throat. We were silent for a while, my words buried deep in my mind; struggling to articulate my thoughts as if I had any at that moment.

“How do you feel about all of this?” Sam finally spoke, breaking the pleasant silence.

A lump formed in my throat as I tried to blink back tears. I cleared my throat and took another sip.

“I think…I’m scared to tell him he already has me wrapped around his finger with or without the stupid bond,” my answer was honest. I was scared – terrified of crossing the boundary; breaking the only rule I had: no long term relationships. Anything more than a friendship with Dean would end catastrophically; I was aware of that and yet I still secretly hoped. I wanted him to want me, I wanted him to look at me and see a safe space; I wanted him so painfully to see me and think: “She’s worth it.”

“Oh he knows, he's just being a dick about it,” Sam’s bluntness surfaced as he drank his glass of whiskey.

“What do you mean?” I asked, not really following him.

He knows?

“You two have something I’ve only experienced once in my life and yet you refuse to acknowledge it.”

My forehead creased as I subtly tilted my head in confusion. Then I heard Sam’s voice in my head as he looked at me with a soft smile on his face.

Jessica…

“Oh…” was all I could say.

“Yeah, he was scared before, now he’s probably terrified. Talk to him when he gets back.”

“So he can reject me? And probably tell me to move out? Even if he feels the same, I know Dean, and he would rather give up alcohol for the rest of his life than talk about his feelings.”

Sam snorted and nodded silently agreeing with me.

“Trust me. He won’t reject you. He’s my brother, I know him a little bit better than you do.”

***

Dean was gone for hours it seemed. I couldn’t stop thinking about him, about the bond, so I did what any sane hunter would do – I repressed my thoughts with more whiskey and drowned myself in more research with Sam. The more I drank it felt like I became more sober.

I wanted to know more about this soulmate bond. I wanted to know if there was any other way for people to block me from entering their minds besides strengthening the mental shield.

“I’ve never asked you, how did you find out about the shield anyway?” Sam asked me behind his laptop while I was trying to find books about telepathy.

“A witch told me,” I stated behind bookshelves, “When my parents died I let it control me, I couldn’t stand it, I could hear every single person I came in contact with and it was driving me nuts. So, I found a witch, a good one, and she helped me control it and told me about the shield since she was the first person I couldn’t tap into.”

I remember her fondly. Her white crow would sometimes appear, to let me know she was alive and I would visit her every year on her birthday in winter. I would tell the Winchesters I was seeing an old friend; without adding too much detail, since I knew Dean’s hatred of witches far too well.

“Good witches exist?”

“Oh yeah, she’s wonderful.”

There wasn’t any other way for other people to shield their minds from me, sadly.

“Oh but I think I found something,” Sam told me and turned his laptop towards me. I read the short paragraph and looked at him.

“I can do that?”

“You can try.”

***

Dean was still gone by the time we decided to take a break from research. Sam decided to go for a walk before bed while I went to my room to try and contact Dean through the bond. The article Sam found stated it was possible to contact your soulmate if you focused all of your energy on them.

I have no idea what I’m doing.

I laid on my bed and closed my eyes, picturing Dean standing right in front of me. Even in my mind he made me nervous. His aura was so captivating and stoic; you couldn’t forget him even if you tried. His name escaped my lips a few times, eyes still closed, but all I could hear was dead silence.His face still engraved in my mind, I studied his features: his smile lines, beautiful kissable lips, his perfect nose, freckles…

Dean? I called.

(Y/N), what the hell?

He heard me. I could feel my feet going cold as my body went numb. My heart was in my throat.

I’ll explain later! Please come home, I wanna talk to you.

In a second, my mind lost focus as I became more aware of my nervousness and he was gone. I couldn’t see him anymore.

“Crap!” I uttered in frustration and decided to text him.

Please come home.

***

I heard his footsteps thirty minutes later. I was ready for the worst; I was ready for Dean to tell me to leave; I was ready for all of it to end.

I heard him knock seconds later.

“You there?”

“Come in!”

He closed the door behind him. I was in the middle of trying to read my book, emphasis on trying, since the nervousness turned into full blown anxiety and I couldn’t focus on anything but him. I put the book down as he sat on the bed. I was hit with a sudden smell of cigarettes and alcohol in my nostrils. He probably went to a bar.

“How did you do that?” He asked, this time looking me dead in the eyes. His gaze wasn’t soft – I couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated – his eyes bore into mine with such seriousness I’d only seen a handful of times.

“I did some research with Sam. The bond allows us to communicate telepathically.”

“I-I can also do that?”

“If you concentrate hard enough, yeah.”

An astounded chuckle was all I heard. And then:

This is crazy.

I know.

His lips parted slightly once he realized he could hear me. I on the other hand didn’t want him to hear me, but looking at him, seeing the evident worry and fear in his green eyes, I couldn’t control it. It became natural.

“Where were you?” I asked and boldly decided to sit next to him.

“Went to our favorite hiding spot to think. When thinking became too much, I went to a bar and had a couple of drinks.”

“And? What are your thoughts?”

His hand gently found mine, intertwining his fingers with mine. I wasn’t sure if I was breathing at that moment. I could feel my cheeks burning as he pressed a gentle kiss on my forehead.

“I feel like ignoring how I feel about you just made everything worse.”

I’m terrified.

I ignored it and focused on his actual voice. “And I feel like this bond slapped me in the face.”

“You and me both,” I smiled.

Sam was right after all. I didn’t know what else to say but all I could think about was pressing my lips against his. I wanted to kiss him so badly, but my body refused to cooperate with my mind.

I didn’t need to kiss him first, because his lips found mine in a matter of seconds. The kiss was gentle, warm; his lips perfectly pressed against mine. I opened my mouth letting him know he could explore it with his tongue and he was happy to do so. A whine escaped my lips when he broke the kiss.

“I heard you,” he smirked.

Please stay with me. My mind yelled.

“I will,” he heard me. Again.

***

Dean went to get ready for bed and so did I. It was already 11pm, Sam was long gone, snoring in his room after a long walk and I went to take a shower.

It will probably happen.

Maybe it won’t?

Maybe we will just cuddle and sleep?

Yeah right.

Why am I so nervous?

I’m nervous because the last time I was in love with someone he left me for a girl named Karen.

In high school.

Crap.

My thoughts were racing as I was washing myself and getting ready to spend the night with him. I put on my shirt and a pair of clean underwear before brushing my teeth. I turned off the lights and went under the covers. Somehow it was always cold in my room, no matter the season. I focused on my soft pillow and how it felt against my cheek as I turned on my side. That lasted maybe two seconds as my mind kept drifting and wondering what was coming next. The thought of him pressed against me made me excited; his lips on my neck, hands on my hips…

I didn’t even realize I was rubbing my thighs together, desperately seeking some form of release. Thank God I was tired, a few moments later I could feel my eyelids getting heavier and my body finally relaxing. I wondered where Dean was as I started drifting and soon enough I got my answer.

He would always take long showers; so I wasn’t surprised when he came 15 minutes later. He found me peacefully drifting between realms of reality and dreams, and with his hands wrapped around me pulled me back to reality – to him. My back pressed against him; we stayed like this, as my patience was running low and I could feel myself getting wet.

He was melting any sense of restraint I had and even with nervousness practically suffocating me, I turned around and snuggled against him, his chin resting on top of my head. He was warm; skin soft as I took a deep breath to breathe in his scent – forest after rain and him.

“Did you know?” I whispered into him.

“Huh? What?” His deep raspy voice so close to ears made me shiver.

“Did you know that I have feelings for you?”

Sam said he did, but I wanted to hear from him.

“I suspected it, but refused to believe it. Until Sam confirmed it.”

“How did Sam know? I’ve never told him.” I said and lifted my head to look at him. It was dark, but I could still see the outlines of his face – he smiled at me.

“He told me you get smiling eyes when we are together. I didn’t really know what he meant until we took down that vampire nest back in Austin. I told you, you were an idiot for trying to take down a whole damn nest by yourself and you kept looking at me with those dove lookin’ eyes.”

I smiled. I remembered that. It was a few months ago and I was indeed an idiot. He and Sam almost died and I had to do something. I was reckless and instead of coming up with a plan I let my machete go wild.

“Well it’s not my fault you’re hot when you’re angry.”

I could feel his smirk before I kissed him, this time cupping his cheek with my hand. He immediately kissed back, pulling me closer to him like that was even possible. This time, one kiss turned into another and another. We both didn't want to pull away; his hands hesitantly started roaming under my shirt, instantaneously sending shivers all over my body. I took his hands, breaking the kiss.

“Touch me. I'm yours,” I whispered before kissing him again, not being able to get enough. I could feel his little smirk against my lips as he tugged on my shirt trying to take it off. I took it off and in seconds he took his. My mind was focused on him and only him as I felt his soft skin under my fingertips.

You're going to be the death of me.

Likewise, sweetheart.

This time I smiled between kisses. I liked that nickname, I couldn’t wait to actually hear it out loud. He wasted no time before he pushed me onto the bed and straddle me; his lips not leaving mine. We were like two addicts; we couldn't stop; we didn't want to stop. He pressed his hips on mine and I could feel him, pressed against my wet center. A soft moan escaped my lips as my fingers tugged on his damp hair. He moved his lips on my neck, while his hand found my center. A light brush was enough to make me moan his name. I was so sensitive, so vulnerable underneath him; he was consuming every reverie of my mind.

I was growing impatient, but he knew that, and now I couldn't hide anything from him anymore. The bond was stronger now, we didn't even have to try to communicate with one another; it was like breathing.

I lowered his boxers as much as I could and wrapped my hand around his hard dick, earning a groan from him. I pumped him a few times, as my impatience became his. He kissed me before standing on his knees and took my panties off. He stopped for a second.

Adoration – I could feel it through the bond. He was making me blush in the dark; my cheeks growing warm.

You're so beautiful.

Before I could answer him, he positioned himself between my legs and slowly entered me, stretching me nice and slow; his lips found mine again as he swallowed my gasp and slowly started to move. My legs wrapped around his hips, wanting more, more and more…

I was about to get drunk and see stars. My hands were around his neck before I cupped his face. He broke the kiss when we both couldn't breathe, biting my shoulder lightly, his pace becoming faster.

My mind only knew his name as I was chanting it over and over again, like a sweet prayer. He nuzzled his head in my neck, kissing it sloppily.

“You feel so good, sweetheart,” he whispered in my ear.

I was in a complete haze, unable to muster anything but his name.

His nose resting on my cheek, he placed a soft kiss only to swallow my moans once more, as we both started to fall apart.

“Dean, I-,” I wasn't able to speak, I could feel it in the pit of my stomach and I could tell, feel, he wasn't going to last much longer.

“I know, baby. I know. I can feel it,” he said and I wasn't sure if he could feel it through the bond or if my body was telling him – or both.

My moans became desperate; with that voice Dean could make me do whatever his little heart desired.

We came in sync, eyes locked and growing breathless. He couldn't keep my name out of his mouth and I didn't want him to. When he pulled out and laid next to me we were both panting and growing sleepier. I lazily moved closer to him, kissing his shoulder as he immediately wrapped his hand around my torso and pulled me close.

“And you thought we'd just cuddle,” he chuckled.

I raised my head to look at him.

“You heard me?”

“Yeah, we have to figure out how to not hear each other's thoughts all the time.”

“Well…” I started and he just shot me a death glare.

“I ain't meditating.”

I cupped his face, squeezing his cheeks lightly making his lips pout.

“Fine,” I said and gave him a pack on the lips, “we will find another way.”

“Thank you.”

I stayed in his arms until we both fell asleep. He played with my hair and I drew small circles on his chest. He asked me about the research – what I found, what I didn't – asked me about us.

“If it's meant to be it's meant to be,” my eyelids grew heavy as I mumbled the words and drifted to sleep.

Dean kissed my forehead and closed his eyes.

***

I could feel Dean’s hands pulling me closer to him, his fingers digging into my flesh as my ears heard him say my name in a form of whisper. I lazily opened my eyes not knowing if he was awake or not. His fingers dug into my stomach as he repeatedly called me in a frantic tone.

He’s dreaming.

“Dean?” I turned around and even in complete darkness my eyes registered his clenched jaw, while my body felt the stiffness of his.

“Dean?” I repeated again and nuzzled my head under his chin and placed a gentle kiss on his neck. I knew what he was dreaming about – I was dying again and he was trying to save me.

Dean, baby wake up!

I told him through the bond as I stroked his soft hedgehog-like hair. I could sense the fear lingering within him as his eyes shot open, his breathing came in uneven gasps and his chest was rising and falling frantically. I wrapped my hand around his torso and embraced him in a tight hug as the weight of the nightmare still lingered.

“I’m here,” I repeated a couple of times, giving him the reassurance I knew he needed.

“It’s just a dream, Dean.”

His breathing became stable again.

“You died,” eventually he told me. The fear was gone and replaced with sadness – sadness so somber and heavy I only felt once when Charlie died.

“No, I didn’t. I’m here,” I told him and placed his hand on my chest.

“I’m right here,” I said before kissing him. A sigh of relief left his lips.

“I feel like I’m gonna lose it…the same dream over and over.”

He was desperate, so desperate for answers it made my soul ache, but I knew this wasn’t the time.

“I know, and we will figure it out. Sleep baby, I’m not going anywhere,” I whispered before kissing him lovingly. His hand found my cheek as I broke the kiss resting my forehead against his.

“Your struggles are mine. Your sadness is mine. You're mine,” I told him as my legs intertwined with his. My hand was on his chest, feeling his heart beating faster. Something was traveling through the bond, something lovely and warm I could only describe it as love. Suddenly I heard it; a whisper traveling through the bond: I love you, before he kissed me again.

I love you too.

Tagged: @lacilou , @littlemadamred , @girls-alias , @captainannatheweirdo , @nancymcl

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piratefishmama · 5 months

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Fake it till you Make it | Part 20

So now, he was sat in a car, with a rich older man.

To some little queer boys, this would be a dream come true, especially since the older man wasn’t half bad in terms of looks, that all American square jaw, strong nose, the works. Plus… rich.

But this wasn’t a rich older man whisking him away, no, this was Steve Harrington’s regularly absent father taking him grocery shopping.

It’d been a wild day.

“So…” Eddie didn’t do well with silence. Silence never sat right with him. Had to fill it somehow, be it with silly noises, random singing, or conversation with any person in his vicinity. “They uhm, they do that often?”

“It’s a family thing, I think we’re all as bad as each other.” At least he was self-aware, the eldest Harrington still watching the road as they drove through the small town, he knew where he was going though, each turn done as if he’d driven the route enough to do it blindfolded. “Lynda’s a lawyer so, that should explain that” loved being right, it was her job to be right, even if she was actually wrong, she had to make out like she was right and she did it well. “I’m a middle child” explained both everything and nothing at all, “and Steven… I think he got a little bit of both of us. I’d have thought you’d be used to that though, since you’re dating him.”

“Ah-haha, I mean… don’t get me wrong, I’ve always known about Steve’s uhm… how to phrase this… mean girl streak?” John snorted a little laugh, emboldened, Eddie continued, “he’s like everyone’s disappointed mother, always with the little—” Eddie shifted in his seat, just about managing to put his hands on his hips and cock them weirdly in place “pose that he does when he’s oh so very disappointed in you. I used to thrive on it back in high school, whenever he’d catch Tommy H or the other basketball goons bullying the kids, he’d just stand there like he’d caught his kids with their hands in the cookie jar, an they’d actually just… cower, like he could actually do anything to them. It was the funniest shit I’d ever seen.”

It'd actually been quite the surprise when that’d happened the first time, it didn’t happen often, Steve had been a douchebag, not the ‘shove your head in a toilet’ kind of douchebag, or the ‘shove Gareth in a locker’ kind of douchebag.

No, he was the mega bitch douchebag who could flash a smile and drop every set of panties in his immediate vicinity, he was the douchebag who KNEW he could do that. Who carried himself high with the knowledge, lording it over everyone without… ever actually lording it, it was a presence kind of thing. An attitude.

And maybe, occasionally, he’d have been the douchebag who didn’t really see anyone unless he wanted to see them, didnt really pay any attention to those not on his radar, those not in his friend group, which led to many an accidental shoulder check, which had in turn led to Eddie’s own personal little vendetta because he’d lost one of his prized mini figs to the underside of the Hawkins High trophy case when Steve had walked by a little too close and shoved him just hard enough to send Eddie’s shit flying.

Had just kept walking as if he hadn’t even seen him. Asshole.

It was only when he’d first been seen hanging around Wheeler that his personality had shifted toward something reasonably human. Thanks Wheeler, the sacrifice of your time and patience hath created a god among men.

“So he was never… bad then?”

“Nah” no sense bad mouthing the boyfriend, that wouldn’t get him anywhere. “Real Prince Charming in a perfectly pressed polo shirt. He’s amazing, sir… you have nothing to worry about with Steve, he’s… one in a million.” Now anyway.

“Good. Good.” And then he fell silent, the quiet stretch lasting nearly five minutes with only the faint music playing on low volume from the radio to fill that silence, until the eldest Harrington pulled the car into a quiet carpark, and parked. “Here we are!” Oh thank Christ.

“We can't keep doing this.” Steve was the first one to speak up during their mutual living room silent treatment, finally looking at this mother after nearly an hour of watching a gentle snowfall that’d started outside. He hoped it wouldn't get heavier before Eddie got back.

“I have no idea what you—”

“Mom.” Steve cut her off, his eyes sharp and tone firm. “We can’t keep doing this. This bickering, this who’s right who’s wrong shit, we’ve gotta stop, at least here.” If not for their own sanity, but for the image he was giving Eddie of his family life.

Of what he might possibly maybe be getting himself into if Steve could actually swing a real relationship by the end of the week. The chances of him saying yes were already pretty farfetched, but if Steve’s parents were their worst selves…

Why would Eddie want to subject himself to that long term?

She paused, expression unreadable, something she’d mastered years ago for the court room, then she sighed. “I know, Steven.” She sighed heavily “Sometimes I forget that you’re a grown up now, that you can argue right back and actually stand your ground.” It only felt like yesterday when he was tugging uncomfortably at the little bowtie they used to make him wear for special occasions, all dressed up looking up at them with those big hazel eyes of his. His childhood only felt like yesterday. “I miss when you were cute and just did as you were told” she sniffled. Back when his parents had been there regularly before their duties had pulled them away. Before distance had strained them and they missed everything. Steve rolled his eyes but said nothing as his mother continued “Anyway, i agree. I think I’d prefer it if Eddie didn’t go away from this trip thinking John to be the most mature of us.”

“God, could you imagine?” Steve shook his head to free himself of the truly harrowing thought, allowing the subject to change. “I really like him, Mom... I didn’t expect to at first, not enough to want something long term with him anyway...” He’d thought it’d be easy to just pretend with him at first, but Eddie just had this... thing about him, Steve didn’t really know how to explain it, he just felt like home. Maybe it should have been alarming as to how fast that’d happened but... Steve had always rushed into things, funnily enough he didn’t think Eddie minded. “So I’d really like it if he liked all of us by the end of this, an if he only likes Dad cause of our bullshit, I think I might just disown the both of you.” The last part said in jest but... god he’d never let it go.

He’d lockjaw it until the end of time, would take it out on special occasions and shake it in their faces like look what you did. Look at what you cost me.

“Honestly, sweetheart I think I’d disown myself.” Lynda laughed, the air finally lightening up a little between them. “Here, how about we go see if the maintenance men pilfered the wine cellar? I’m positive Mags was hiding a damn good red down there among the cabernet that I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t want to go to waste...”

“Well... we probably should check it... just in case, y’know? For security reasons.” Not that he actually doubted the integrity of the maintenance crew, they’d been employees for years, they’d known his grandparents, had worked for them in their later years when time had started to catch up to them, and a steady gig passing through generations wasn’t something to scoff at.

“Security, absolutely.” But then, the contents of the wine cellar alone was probably worth more than the actual house, so… better double check.

For security reasons.

Part 22

#PirateWrites #FakeItTillYouMakeItFiclet #Steddie #No Upside Down AU #Fake Dating AU #Just what are Eddie and John going to come home to i wonder lmao

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cordeliawhohung · 21 days

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i literally always interact with ur posts and i always try to initiate some sort of friendship but you dont !!!! idk

so, it's rather unfortunate that i feel like i have to explain myself even though i know i don't have to, but i'm going to anyway because this will eat me alive if i don't and i'm gonna set healthy boundaries here.

first, thank you for your continued support of my posts. interaction makes the site go round, and all that. but this comment feels really... transactional.

i feel like i do a really good job at interacting with people who comment and whatnot on my posts. i answer asks, i enjoy the silly ones and the serious ones, i try to be fun, be funny, be kind, be engaging, be myself, be whatever. and frankly, i don't think i understand what more you're wanting from me. i respond to a majority of comments on my posts! i sort of pride myself with how often i interact with people on here despite my busy life! if you're in my notifs often, there's probably already a decent chance i enjoy seeing you pop up, and enjoy responding to you, and enjoy engaging with you, and probably even consider you a friend if we speak often in comments, etc.

it's really hard to tell exactly what you're wanting me to do based off of this very vague ask, but if you're like, wanting to dm with me or something i'm sorry. i'm like the worst person ever when it comes to dms. i work 10 hour shifts. i have family to take care of, a mortgage to pay for etc etc. ask any of my moots, i literally never dm. i leave people on read quite often because i'm just so bad at it. i'm busy all the time and it gets overwhelming. so if you've got some sort of fomo going on that i'm part of something more than just my silly posts or anything, i promise you there's nothing you're missing out on.

which is why i stick to comments. replying to stuff. mainly engaging on posts. answering asks. etc. i'm literally giving everyone all the energy i have to give already. on top of writing!!!!

and this is going to sound really cunty, but also realize that just because you interact with someone, that doesn't mean they owe you anything. and this doesn't just go for me, but literally everyone on this site. they don't owe you a reply, or a thank you, or a comment, or anything. and that sucks but that's literally how life works. not everything is a series of transactions. everyone has their reasons that dictate why they may or may not respond or initiate what you want from them. but that's what this asks feels like. wanting something from me. wanting more than what i've been giving. wanting something i mentally, and emotionally can't provide given my circumstances.

i literally love everyone who positively interacts with me, so this feels like a punch to the gut, knowing someone thinks that i'm not doing enough by not catering to some very vague and impossible to know need. i'm not a mind reader!

sorry if this sounded short, but i'm wanting to make my boundaries very clear here. i am so so grateful for everyone who interacts with my stuff, and i show my love by responding as best as i can. most of my friendships on this site are formed by interactions that way. asking anything more from me is something i simply cannot give you.

also, anon asks will be turned off AGAIN after i post this because just on the off chance this is not received well, i'm not opening myself up to anon hate lmao.

#core responds #writeblr #please i am tired #i just wanna write my stupid stories and interact about our silly blorbos in comments/rbs #idk what more i can do to make y'all happy

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dcartcorner · 6 months

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a fantasy/dnd au because i can't help myself and the thought of ancient blue dragon simon who disguises himself as a human brings me joy.

please enjoy this small one shot ft. s1 adventuring crew (please excuse any errors, writing is not my strong suit!)

Rumours at the Tavern Characters: Tim, Simon, Sasha, Martin, Jon Ships: none

It wasn’t what Tim would consider a nice tavern. He had performed in nicer ones, ones where the counters were meticulously cleaned and the patrons were at least passably polite to the serving staff, and a mug of ale would set you back a silver piece. This place was not quite like that.

Then again, Tim had been to worse sorts of dives.

The Lazy Storm sat right smack in the middle of the two kinds of taverns, perched on the cliff side overlooking the choppy seas of the western coast, amidst the fjords in the town of Killn’s Rest. Not a bad place, not a good place. Just a place, somewhere to find some warmth, a quick meal, and something to drink. It was also the sort of tavern that didn’t take fire hazards all that seriously, if the number of people making merry that evening within its walls was any indication of the owner’s outlook on safety. It was busy, to the point where crowds spilled out onto the street even though the summer had come to a close and the winter, with its biting chill, was fast approaching.

Perhaps that’s why Tim noticed him - the old man. Because he was sitting on the bar top.

There were few other seats around. Sasha had managed to charm their way to a table of their own earlier in the night while Martin tried to see about rooms, and their party had stayed planted at said table all night as the crowds slowly but surely filtered in for the evening. They were lucky, in this regard, as many other people were forced to stand shoulder to shoulder. Not that old man, though. Perched on the edge of the bar like a bird, smiling kindly at the person next to him.

And his choice of seat was not the only peculiar thing about him, Tim thought. He wore clothing that Tim could only describe as ornate. If this was one of those nice taverns Tim had played in, he might have expected that sort of the look, but this wasn’t one of those places. This was the Lazy Storm, and that man was incredibly overdressed.

“It’s weird, right?” Tim said aloud. Martin looked up, then glanced around. Sasha craned her neck to look at him. Jon didn’t look up from his book. Tim nodded in the direction of the old man. “Someone dressed like that in a place like this. That’s odd, isn’t it?”

“Not really,” Sasha shrugged.

“Where?” Martin asked.

“Good on him, getting dressed up to go out for a night,” said Sasha.

“I think it’s weird,” said Tim. Because it was.

“Where?” Martin asked again. “Oh. Him? I mean. I suppose it’s… well, it’s a little odd.” The twist of a frown at the corners of Martin’s mouth. “Someone should offer him a seat.”

“Seems happy enough where he is,” Sasha said with a huff of a laugh as the other man at the bar leaned closer to the old man and whispered something to him.

“Could we please focus,” Jon finally interjected, shutting the book.

Tim rolled his eyes as he took a swig of his drink. It wasn’t silver coin ale. This was a copper-piece-per-tankard-ale, and it tasted like it. Which was to say, it tasted like a good night in the making.

“Have any of you actually asked anyone about any jobs yet?” Jon said.

“Asked just about as many people as you,” Tim said. By this, Tim meant: none.

“There’s a rat problem in the sewers,” Sasha said, “according to one guard. Doesn’t pay well, but at least it pays.”

“There are bandits, too,” Martin added. “Uh, just out east of here. Somewhere. Apparently they have a den in the woods? But I think someone might’ve already taken that one.”

“Mm.” Jon was not impressed. He looked over at Tim. “Anything?”

Tim raised his hands. “Don’t look at me, I can get a job whenever.” Plenty of people out there who were willing to pay for some good music. “Or did you forget who bought the rooms and drinks?”

Jon leaned his elbows on the table and put his face in his hands momentarily. Then looked up at Tim and said, “Could you please just. Ask.”

“Jon, maybe we should just… take a night off?” Martin suggested. “It wouldn’t be the worst thing…”

Jon shot him a look and that was the end of that conversation.

Well, didn’t matter. Jon didn’t have to join them in having a good night if he didn’t want to. Tim wasn’t going to let it bother him, and he got up to go order another drink with his own hard earned money, ignoring how much lighter his coin purse was compared to earlier that day.

Why was it his problem anyway, that they didn’t have much in the way of coin? He wasn’t going to let it get to him. It wasn’t getting to him. He and Sasha and Martin were just some poor souls dragged along on Jon’s pointless quest to find some answers that had nothing to do with any of them. So why did it matter?

It didn’t matter.

Dammit.

The old man was not the first person he asked that night about a job. As he waited for a drink he asked the person to his left and to his right, but neither of them were keen on talking - and it took him a little too long to realize they were part of their own adventuring party based on the matching bands on their arms, and wouldn’t be sharing any information with him. He tried to ask the bartender as well, but she was too busy to give him any answer that was not a look of inconvenience.

Tim sighed. And he kept asking, until finally his route around the tavern brought him to the old man at the bar. Sat there, dressed strangely, looking for all the world like he should be just about anywhere else.

“Are you quite alright?” the old man asked him. Tim blinked. “Not that I mind, but I’ve been told it’s rude to stare.”

Had he been staring? “Sorry,” Tim said. The old man smiled at him.

“Something I can do for you?” the old man asked.

Tim looked around briefly. The other person with whom the old man had been speaking earlier that night was gone. “Don’t suppose there is,” Tim said. “Unless you know of any get rich quick jobs around this place.”

The old man chuckled. “Well now, I can think of a few, but I’m not entirely sure those are the type you’re looking for,” he said, resting his hands on the head of his cane which he had propped up on the empty edge of one of the bar-stools. “Tough times, out there. Or so I hear. Something about the supply and demand of it all, I think. Too many adventurers, too few problems that need solving! At least around these parts.” The old man sighed thoughtfully. “This coast isn’t what it used to be. Time was you couldn’t take two steps on the road without running into bandits or cultists or a proper mountain troll. Now you’d be lucky to find a good sized rat nest to clean up.”

“Yeah, well. Killing rats doesn’t pay well,” Tim said.

The old man smiled, watching Tim over the rim of his glasses. His eyes were sharply blue, Tim noticed. “No,” the man agreed. “No it doesn’t.” He tilted his head. “Terribly sorry, but I’m afraid you’ll have to go further afield to find anything.”

“Thanks anyway,” Tim said, defeated.

“Although,” the old man said as Tim was turning away. Tim paused and looked back at him. “I’ve heard a rumour. There have been a few ships that have come into the harbour with some particularly strange news out of the Shivering Straight. Up north. Word is there have been a handful of whaling ships that have gone missing around Helkelson Bay. Only a couple of survivors. Those that do manage to best the frostbite say… well. You know how sailors can be, always creating the most fanciful stories. A ghost ship, they say! The mayor of Helkelson isn’t altogether convinced it’s anything so peculiar as that, though I hear he’s offering a handsome reward to anyone willing to… solve the problem. Whatever that problem may be.”

“Helkelson?” Tim said.

“That’s right,” the old man replied with a smile. “Ask around the docks, I’d say. Plenty of merchant ships coming and going that way. Of course, it’s only a rumour.”

Tim smiled back. “Better than nothing.”

It was at that moment the old man’s companion returned and gave Tim a wary look. Tim took it as his cue to leave with a nod of thanks and an imaginary tip of the hat before he returned to the table to join his companions.

“Let me start,” he said to them, “by saying you’re welcome. Now, any of you been to the Shivering Straight?”

#tma #the magnus archives #dnd au #fantasy au #tim stoker #sasha james #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #simon fairchild #fic #one shot #yes tim is a bard #fanart

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omgjumin · 2 years

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12:09 pm ☆ suna rintaro

tags: fem!reader, petnames (wife, princess), idk if you'd call this angst but here you go

suna rintaro hates you. maybe he would even go as far as saying he despises you. and it's not because you're genuinely a bad person or you are just terribly annoying. no, of course not. it's because you left him; cold, alone, and lonely because you've abandoned him.

suna rintaro lays there, still in bed, curling his fingers up into a fist. kind of in anger but also in a way to keep them warm. his body shivers in coldness, only because you left him. no, not because he left the ac unit on cool nor the fan that ran itself in front of him. definitely not. his stomach hurts because you denied him. the grumbling noises that voiced, he was hungry because of you. and suna swears it's not because he didn't eat breakfast. it's you. always has been because of you. it's what makes him feel he's trapped in bed. trapped in endless doom because you decided to walk out.

"hey rin?" you call out from wherever you stood in the living room. but suna rintaro swears he must've misheard you. there's no way you're back, after everything you have put him through. you softly knock on his room door before cautiously peaking your head through the crack. "rin?" you question once more. your voice graced suna's ears as he finally looked at you.

"you left me." suna bluntly said, his eyes continued to stare at you almost as if you weren't real. "i had to go to work, rin." you rolled your eyes, though you weren't truly annoyed at his dramatic antics. "you shouldn't have to." before moving another step towards your boyfriend, you halted to a stop. sucking in a sharp breath before exhaling loudly. "what do you mean?" your heart started racing over the complications of his sentence. really, you shouldn't get your hopes up but the small comments you've picked up after time has put you on your toes.

"you know, when we move in together, we should..."

"this would look good in our apartment."

"our apartment..."

and for the first time of the day, suna has finally sat up. the room doesn't feel cold anymore. at least, to him. "it means you should quit your job and let me take care of you."

"rin, you know i can't do that. i have to pay for rent and groceries, and-"

"so move in with me." suna cuts you off, the small ding coming from his phone is the only thing that filled the silence between you two. the soft and fluffy blankets that curled around suna was the only thing you saw in the dark room. the sun was shut out by the black-out curtains hanging in front of his windows. you took one step forward, your hands quickly fiddled with each other in anxiousness. "but-"

"i also, think you would make a great addition to my, our place. you wouldn't have to leave me and we'd always be together until death." suna adds, he seems to have been adding up the pros of you moving in with him for a while. the emptiness of his stomach has dissipated, at least for now. and suna thinks that now you're here with him, staring, kind of awkwardly at him, makes him feel a lot less alone. "but, i don't want people to think i'm with you only for your money, rin." you hesistantly mumbled out but for suna, he heard it well enough. "speaking of which, you'd make a great housewife, don't you think?"

"rintaro, im serious."

"and im serious too."

suna smirks as soon as he sees your own resolve crumble, falling into putty in the palms of his hands. "i'll move in, fine." suna wraps you in his arms, closing the space in between you two before he kisses you softly on your forehead. "great, princess."

#suna is a bit dramatic its okay #hes pretty so its okay #suna fluff #suna angst #suna rintaro fluff #suna rintaro angst #suna x you #suna x reader #suna x fem!reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro x you #suna rintaro headcanons #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #haikyuu fics #haikyuu angst #omgjumin

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scoobydoodean · 2 months

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first off, i fully agree with what you’ve said about why those specific memories of sam’s were shown to them! but i’ve been trying (and kinda failing) to figure out why those ones of dean’s memories were shown, like if there’s a reason beyond the comparison of: dean’s are with his family vs sam’s are not. do you think that’s really it, that comparison, or have you seen any other deeper layers/meanings to the memories chosen for dean? (hope this makes sense lol)

context

I think the memory in the field with the fireworks is for contrast. Sam doesn't see that one. It represents to Dean not only his fondness for his little brother, but also what he was willing to do just to make Sam happy. The fireworks Dean bought weren't just your standard Roman Candles or bottle rockets. He bought expensive types that create major light shows in the sky, and those aren't cheap, and we know John didn't help because Sam implies he wouldn't have approved—which means Dean also risked doing this behind John's back and possibly facing some kind of punishment for drawing attention or wasting money. It also represents Dean trying his hardest to make holidays happy and normal for Sam (these fireworks were shot on 4th of July). When he locates Sam immediately after, it's enjoying a major holiday at someone else's house, because (from Dean's perspective) Dean's attempts weren't good enough no matter how hard he tried.

As for the memory with Mary—which is the Dean memory that Sam gets to see—I think it helps to suppose that if Sam's memories are intended to tell Dean something, Dean's memories are meant to tell Sam something. In the Mary memory, we see that twinge of loss—and maybe not quite envy—but some form of grief from Sam when Dean gets to enjoy that memory with Mary in their old house and Sam doesn't. Sam tries to speak to Mary, but she can't see him. Those happy memories are something Sam isn't able to touch, and I think that colors his response later when Dean asks why all his memories are being away from their family. Sam jumps to "I didn't get the crust cut off my PB&J" because he's still thinking about and grieving that loss, and is probably wondering if he'd have that desire for tenderness that's so present in Dean's interactions with Mary, if Sam had ever gotten the chance to know her as a mom.

Like—contrary to fanon narrative, in the actual show Supernatural, there is a tenderness in Dean that simply isn't that present in Sam's interactions with others up to season 5. Sam loves their family, and his sense of filial piety in particular becomes very strong (see: 2.02, 2.05, actual Sam in 2.20, 4.19, 5.13), but he primarily thinks of family by season 5 as a source of security, strength, and built-in community in a world where most "normal" connections aren't possible. See what he tells "Adam" in 4.19:

Being a hunter isn't a job, Adam. It's life. You're pre-med. You got a girlfriend, friends? Not anymore you don't. If you're really gonna do this, you can't have those kinds of connections, ever. They're weaknesses. You'll just put those people in danger, get them killed. That's the price we pay. You cut 'em out, and you don't look back. There's only one thing you can count on. Family.

In his interactions with "Adam", he focuses on teaching him the ropes. In his interactions with found family like Bobby, he avoids the hard conversations riddled with painful emotions and risk of seeing someone get hurt/killed and focuses on the mission. When he can tell Dean isn't doing well in season 2 and 4, he pushes Dean to open up then flips the narrative to wanting Dean to get over it as soon as he knows what's going on. He isn't actually a very (genuinely) tender person by default up to this point. So maybe he sees a connection between Dean's capacity for tenderness and desire for tenderness and their mother's affections when Dean was a child, and thinks "Well I didn't get that, and that's why I'm like this." Neither he nor Dean actually ever clock that Zachariah is leading them to the specific memories he wants them to see.

#angels lie #mail #angels and demons lie #zachariah #the flannel business #sams envy #5.16 #season 5 #mary #sam and isolation

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standardfriends · 29 days

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boy (I need you) 🦋

Word Count: 5.3k|| Kanemoto Yoshinori x Fem. Reader || Tags: Fluff, Slight Angst, Smut, Dilf!Yoshi, Son!Jeongwoo, Best Friend!Doyoung, Slight Age Gap (4 years), Petnames, Abandonment, Vanilla, Plot Heavy

"Damn, this house is really nice." Whose house, you may ask? Hopefully, your future employer's. You recently started college and have been looking for a pretty lenient job, and that's how you got here. A man, not much older than you, named Yoshinori needed a house-sitter. So here you were, about to enter for an interview. "You got this, y/n. You'll be fine." You press the doorbell. "One second! Sorry~" A sweet melodic voice tweets from behind the door. "Hello, come on in!" Appearing is one of the most gorgeous faces you've ever seen in your life. Long brown hair, shiny soft eyes, high strong nose bridge, a bright smile, and a pretty mole underneath his mouth to pair with it.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" "Just water is fine, thank you." He leads you to sit down on the couch in his living room, which is quite cozy, with a light brown sectional, a wooden and glass coffee table positioned in front of a flat-screen TV and front window. He comes back quickly with a glass of ice water with a cute curly straw. "Sorry, how rude of me. I haven't introduced myself. My name is Kanemoto Yoshinori, and you?" "Y/n, nice to meet you, Mr. Kanemoto." "Oh, please just call me Yoshi…" He chuckles nervously and rubs his neck. "Alright, nice to meet you, Yoshi."

You soon find out that he's looking for a house-sitter because he frequently works long hours throughout the week. "I just need you to do basic tasks like making sure all the plants are watered, the fish are fed enough, and that dust doesn't collect." Simple enough, it pays really well, considering those are your only major tasks. "Also, you would get weekends off. That's when I'm at home. My son Jeongwoo comes to visit me, he lives with his grandparents during the week." SON!? You had to refrain from letting your jaw drop, but you can't help but be shocked, as Yoshi only looked at most 4 years older than you. "Oh ok, well if that's all, I'd be happy to house sit for you, Yoshi!" "REALLY? Oh, I mean—ahem—really? Thank you so much!" You can't believe this man has a child; he acts so innocently. You swear you saw stars in his eyes when you accepted his offer. "Let's discuss more in-depth about payment and schedule, hmm?" "Sounds perfect to me."

You ended up spending two hours with him, chatting not only about your new job but each other's personal lives as well. You learned he's a music producer for a very big entertainment company, he has to be there for long hours due to the number of songs he has to make for many different artists. You learned he went to the same university you're currently attending and he graduated just last year. He gave you pointers on all the best spots to make friends and eat. You told him about how you plan to major in Linguistics and he was ecstatic, being a polyglot himself.

The most notable thing is that of his son, a 3-year-old named Jeongwoo, he says he's very timid but well-mannered and caring. Although there was no mention of Jeongwoo's mother and it seemed like he was purposefully so, you decided not to pry. "What an intriguing man…" It was Saturday, you had two days before you start this job. "Why do I already want to start now?" Laying down, looking at your ceiling, you can't help but let your mind wander. Checking the time, you realize if you want to get everything together by Sunday night, you have to head to bed now. "Goodnight, Yoshi. Please take care of me in the future."

"Daddy, how come I have to eat my salad if you haven't touched any of yours?" "Huh—" Yoshi looks down to realize he's barely eaten. "Oh, you're right, bud. It's not fair. Sorry, daddy will finish all his salad." He stuffs a bite into his mouth. "See, mmm yummy, now you have to as well, ok?" "Ok, daddy!" "Good boy." He couldn't stop thinking about earlier today. A pretty young girl like you wanted to get paid to do boring tasks around his house and just make sure nobody breaks in. You didn't even question too much about him and his son and seemed to be open-minded about it. This was something he surely wasn't used to. He couldn't place what, but it felt like you had bewitched him, all his thoughts were filled with you. It's a little weird because he just met you and you're just some 19-year-old looking to make some easy money. "I really should've gotten out more in college, not like I had much of a choice…" Creak "Daddy, you look sleepy, can we sleep together tonight?" As much as he feels he's missed out, he loves his kid so much. "Sure, buddy, let's clean up dinner first." "Ok!" He watches the little boy scurry with all the plates into the kitchen excitedly. "Be careful, slow down!"

"How come I never get to visit mommy?" Jeongwoo asks his father. Yoshi is a little taken aback. How could he tell his little boy that his mommy left them? "Well, you see, mommy lives very far, and it's not easy for you to visit her." "How far? Does she live all the way across the ocean?" "Yes, all the way across the ocean." "Can't we just take a plane?" "Planes are expensive, bud." "Can we do it once, when I have a holiday?" He adores his son so much, his persistence and curiosity is one of his favorite parts of being a parent. He can't believe that anyone could just leave such an amazing kid behind. "I'll see what we can do, buddy, but I don't know if mommy is going to be willing."

"Why?" His heart pains, he asks himself the same thing, why? He thought they were perfect together and that everything was going to be perfect just the three of them, but she left. "Mommy needs time. She's been through a lot." "Ok…" He can tell his son is no longer as bright as before, and it hurts just as much as he thought. "Hey, don't frown, daddy doesn't like when you frown. How about I sing you a lullaby tonight, hm?" The little boy eagerly nods his head in agreement. Before Yoshi can even finish the song, the little one is off to sleep, and he rests a peck on his forehead.

Your first day of house-sitting was a breath of fresh air after a hard day at school. You had a project in your semantics class. You were partnered up with a boy in your class named Doyoung. He's cool and all, but he talks a LOT, and consequently, not a lot of work got done. The house, thankfully for you, seemed to be in good shape. You went about your duties with care, watering the plants, feeding the fish, and dusting the surfaces. "Well, that was easy. Maybe I should look around the house, and maybe find a bathroom while I'm at it." While exploring, you came across a child's bedroom. There was a tiny kid's doctor's kit, music sheets along with a kid's recorder, and a drawing of the house, a man who you assumed was Yoshi, and a tiny kid you could only assume was Jeongwoo. It brought a little bit of warmth to your heart. You thought it would be nice to tidy up the room a bit, so you put everything in its designated spot and close the door. You could tell Jeongwoo was just as nice as Yoshi had described, and you could tell he cares for his son a lot.

There's another bedroom directly opposite the one you recently exited. It was most definitely Yoshi's. You could smell the subtle scent of a nice clean cologne emanating from the room. You decided it would be best not to enter there without permission. You eventually found the bathroom as well, but afterward, your stomach made an incomprehensible rumble. You ventured into Yoshi's kitchen, finding some basic ingredients for an omelet and toast. After a bit of whisking, chopping, frying, and toasting, you had a simple, wholesome meal ready. You took a bite and started to get out your computer when you suddenly hear the front door unlock.

"Ahhhh, where is it? I swear I left it right here. Oh—" You are confronted with a very disheveled Yoshi. Even then, he still looked as gorgeous as before. His eyes were like the ocean. "Hi, Y/N. Sorry to startle you." "It's fine. It is your house, after all." He has a look of surprise on his face mirrored by your own. "I had forgotten some lyrics I was working on last night." He chuckles, and the vibrations send a tingling feeling throughout your body.

"You didn't happen to see them lying around, did you?" "Uhhh, I don't think so. I'm sorry." "No, no, it's totally okay. I'll find them." A little less frazzled, he finally smells the food you made. "Oh, I made an omelet and toast from some food you had in the fridge. I hope that's okay." "Yeah, that's fine. I'm sorry for interrupting you. You can go back to eating if you want." You can tell he may need some help, but you appreciate him trying to be considerate. "Let me help you out. I finished pretty much all the tasks you gave me, so I can put off eating for a little longer. What did you say those lyrics looked like?" "It’s just a filing folder with lined pieces of paper. They should still be somewhere here in the living room," Yoshi explains, gratefully accepting your offer.

Together, you start searching by the coffee table, flipping through various magazines and yesterday's mail, to no avail. Yoshi checks the nearby shelves and cabinets, his brows furrowing in concentration. You can't help but steal glances at him, the way his hair frames his face, the smell of his perfume hitting your senses every time he slightly passes by. The moment is intimate but not uncomfortable. You both continue to work diligently to find his paper, and for some reason, you have a sense of responsibility for making sure the papers return to their rightful owner.

After about 30 mins of non-stop scouring, Yoshi lets out a small sigh of frustration, running a hand through his hair. "I could've sworn I left them here." You glance around the living room one last time when your eyes land on a small stack of papers slid underneath the couch. You reach for them, pulling them out. "Are these the ones you're looking for?" Yoshi turns to look at you, a sparkle flickers in his sweet eyes. He quickly moves over, taking the papers from your hands and flips through them, "Yes, these are it! Thank you, Y/N." “I'm glad I could help, Yoshi." You felt almost like you were more relieved than he was. But it didn’t matter all that mattered has the smile radiating from his face. He chuckles, shaking his head. "No, seriously. If you weren’t here who knows how long it would’ve took. My boss isn’t the most patient to say the least." “Oh trust me I know how that feels.” At that, you both laugh, the tension from before completely dissipated. It's a nice moment, one that makes you look forward to continuing to house sit for Yoshi.

Yoshi, having found the missing lyrics, quickly gathered his things, thanking you once again before hurrying out the door. Left alone in the quiet house, you turned back to your half-eaten omelet, the cool air making it lukewarm. It wasn’t too bad thought so you finished your meal, finding comfort in the cozy home. After cleaning up your mess you pulled out your laptop and opened up the project you had been working on with Doyoung. Working through the project was a challenge, primarily due to the fact you had to work through what pieces of information he told you were actually relevant. You check through the little notes you guys actually got down and come up with an actually solid thesis.

After a few texts back and forth you and Doyoung managed to make significant progress, feeling a sense of accomplishment as she you finally closed your laptop. In that moment the sun was starting to set, you did one last look around the house, making sure that everything looked just as intended. As you locked the front door behind you, you found yourself looking back on the day of house-sitting. Anticipating what the week would look like. The walk back was refreshing albeit a little lonesome, you didn’t know why, but you suspect it was because of him.

The first week of the job was full of getting accustomed to the new environment. The house, despite its larger size, had a warm feeling that made you easily unwind. You found yourself settling into a comfortable routine, taking care of the house and its inhabitants (fish included) with vigor. Yoshi, despite being absorbed with his work, made sure to check in with you throughout the week. He’d call or text asking if you needed anything and if you were feeling comfortable.

One day, when you mentioned that you had forgotten to bring lunch, he knew the fridge was empty so he surprised you by dropping of some food from the grocery store right quick. “Oh Yoshi you didn’t have too, I could’ve gotten something delivered right quick.” “It’s ok I was on my lunch break as well anyways.” It was a small act, but it spoke volumes about his thoughtful nature. There were other little gestures throughout the week as well. But the most memorable was when you came in on Friday with a note left on the fridge, 'Thank you for everything Y/N, have a nice weekend ;)' written in Yoshi's neat handwriting. The small gestures also made your heart flutter, you found that you had to remind yourself that he is probably this nice to everyone. That didn’t stop your mind from being filled with constant thought of him.

“I mean you never know until you shoot your shot.”, Doyoung brazenly comments. "You play too much Dobby. He's just being nice, plus he's my boss," you get really defensive, however you’re not able to hide the blush creeping up to your cheeks. "And besides, he has a kid! I don’t know if he’s looking for that all, especially not from me." "Hey, all I'm saying is that the option is clearly available. And you can’t assume his feelings, positive or negative.” He smirks before taking another sip of his boba and continuing to work on your shared project. "Whatever Doyoung..." You roll your eyes at him, your voice trailing off.

Despite what you said, you can't help but acknowledge some truth in his words. Could there be a chance that your feelings for Yoshi weren't unrequited? You haven’t known him long but your thoughts were consumed by the image of him, even when you weren't at his house. His smile, his voice, his scent - they were all you hand on your mind these past few days. You shake your head, trying to clear those thoughts for now. "Doyoung, let's just focus on our project." He raises his brow at the comment but nods, turning his attention back to the work at hand. You try to do the same, but your mind keeps wandering back to Yoshi and the strange, yet warm, feelings that have started to bloom in your heart.

Every corner of Yoshi's house seems to leave an imprint of him. His music sheets scattered scross the coffee table, the doodles of him and Jeongwoo with little captions left on the fridge, the sandwiches left in the fridge for you in case you got hungry. You've gotten adjusted to his routine as well. You know when he gets off for lunch, what days he gets off early, his favorite snacks, and even his favorite songs and TV shows. He's your employer, but he treats you more as a friend, throughout the past few weeks you’ve been working for him you can’t help but feel like you’re relationship is a little more special than that of employer and employee. You can't help but wonder if this is how it always is for him, or if there's something more behind it. “Hey Y/N I have a favor to ask.” “Yeah sure Yoshi what is it?” It’s been about a month now you’ve started to eat dinner with Yoshi when he gets off early, tonight you decided on some chicken katsu, Yoshi was feeling a little homesick. “I was wondering if you’d like to meet Jeongwoo and if that goes well baby sit him this weekend? You’d get paid extra of course…”

Your eyes light up, “Really? I’d love to meet Jeongwoo!” He laughs, that laugh you have come to adore, “Yeah, my parents wanted to go on a day trip but I’m still going to have work that day so I’d need you to watch him till I get home.” “Sounds great to me!” You guys decided on which day this weekend you were going to plan to have you and Jeongwoo meet as well as what would be expected when you watch him the day Yoshi’s gone of course. You couldn’t believe it that Yoshi felt like he could trust you with something as important as this. Jeongwoo was his everything you could tell just from the way he spoke about his little one.

“Dude if you don’t ask him out already,” Doyoung wastes no time. After that project at the beginning of the semester the two of you quickly became best friends. “Oh my god bruh, shut up. Although…” “See I told you, you need to just start openly flirting and see how he reacts at this point because I don’t know anyone else who regularly eats dinner with their boss who also now wants them to meet his kid.” Doyoung has gotten more persistent in telling you to ask Yoshi out. “I just don’t know Dobby what if he doesn’t see me that way. Ugh, I don’t think I could handle that right now.” You were never this bad with rejection in the past but with Yoshi it’s different he’s perfect, he’s your shooting star. “If you wanna keep suffering from one-sided love that’s on you, I’ve already told you what I think. Now can we please finish looking over this textbook section I’m not tryna bomb this test tomorrow.” You sigh and agree, even when your friend ends up falling asleep on call you circle back on his advice. He’s right you’ll never know unless you try, and you decide you’re goal is after baby sitting Jeongwoo to ask him out.

You were back to the beginning standing on Yoshi’s doorstep prepping yourself to push the doorbell, this time you heart raced with more anticipation than before. Having spent the past month and a half house-sitting for Yoshi was nothing when you consider that you were meeti g your boss’, you have a crush on, kid. “Hi Y/n, Jeongwoo is in the living room right now playing come on in!”As you walk into the familiar room you find Jeongwoo playing with his toys just as Yoshi said he was, he had a big toothy grin on his face and innocence in his eyes. “Hey buddy I got someone I want you to meet.” His gaze drawn to his fathers voice. He gets up hiding behind his dads leg as he studies your expression. “Jeongwoo this is Y/N she’s daddy’s friend. Introduce yourself.” He’s reluctant, “Hello Y/n I’m Jeongwoo.” you chuckled softly, he was so cute and resembled his father a lot. "Nice to meet you Jeongwoo. Is it ok if I play with you?” Jeongwoo looks to his dad for approval, once Yoshi gives an affirming nod, his smile slowly started to return, “Ok!” And you follow the little boy to sit down and play with the doctors kit you had put away many times before.

As Yoshi observed your interactions with Jeongwoo, he felt a storm of emotions. Watching you playing with his precious little one, seeing the genuine care and warmth in you had for him, Yoshi felt his heart twist and turn. Yoshi found himself lost in thought, reflecting on thesmall time you had spent together but noting just how comfortable and natural it felt. "Dad, look at this!" Jeongwoo's excited voice brought Yoshi back to the present, to show him a drawing you had help him make. “This is lovely bud, I’m gonna hang up right here ok?” “Ok, and Y/n helped so you should thank her too.” The look in his eyes being filled with sincerity, ”Thank you Y/N””Anytime Yoshi.” In that moment it became abundantly clear to Yoshi that his feelings for you were stronger than friendship or gratitude. He was in love with you.

Your first meeting with Jeongwoo was successful and you were set to babysit him this Thursday. And with Yoshi’s realization he was growing even more anxious. The last time he let someone into his life, the last time he loved someone, they left. Without a traces Jeongwoo’s mom left him, with only a note saying, “I’m sorry Yoshi. This is goodbye, take care of Jeongwoo for me. -XXX” What if you did the same, Jeongwoo wasn’t old enough to be affected when his mom lleft but if you left now… He hoped you wouldn’t, you were the best thing that’s happened to him a long a time. And Jeongwoo already loves you just as much as he did. “Please don’t leave me…” Is the last thing he mumbles softly, before drifting off to sleep.

Today is the long awaited day, arriving at Yoshi’s house around your usual time you enter. Before the boys get home you decided to clean up a bit, not neglecting the duties you were originally hired for, and as you finish up you hear a tiny footsteps from the front door. “Jeongwoo take of your shoes please before you—” “Y/N!” Before you have time to react the tiny boy has already jumped into your arms. “Jeongwoo~, ahh you’ve gotten so big since I last saw you.” “REALLY?” You try to respond right away but he sounded exactly like his dad on that first day you teo met and it instantly melted your heart. “Yes bubba! Now lets go take off your shoes and get ready to say bye-bye to your dad ok?” While directing him back to the front door you and Yoshi exchange a glance.

It was a glance of passion, of admiration, of love? You didn’t have to much time to think about it before Yoshi had to get going, ‘I should be back by around 7, have fun you two.” “Ok we will, Jeongwoo say bye.” “Bye Daddy~” They exchanged a embrace with kiss on the cheek and before you knew it he was gone. You and Jeongwoo started off with homework (which in pre k is addition, abc’s, and maybe some coloring sheets) which you knocked out quickly. After that you guys play for a while, you pretended to be his patient, “Oh no Dr. Jeongwoo will I be ok?” “Yes, it’s just a broken leg you’ll feel better soon. Your medicine is a cast and a nice big hug!” “Thank you so much Doctor.” Before you knew it it was dinnertime, hanging out with Jeongwoo has been so much fun that you didn’t even realize it was almost 7:30.

“Hey bubba I don’t know why your dad is late but I think it’s time to get ready for bed.” “Awww…” He gives you the cutest little pout just like Yoshi when you tell him you have to go. “I know but we can play more tomorrow if you really want to ok?” He nods. You then get him ready for bed and he goes to sleep without issues, but not it’s almost 8 and you’re really worried about Yoshi. Why is he late, did he get stuck in traffic, is he safe, did something happen at work? Until the front door opens in coming a very tired Yoshi. “Sorry I’m late there was a really bad accident on the freeway. How did everything go.” You didn’t care if it seemed inappropriate in that moment you were overcome with relief.

You hugged him a tight one at that, “I was so worried.” He doesn’t know how to react, you were worried about him? He accepts the hug, “I’m Sorry, next time I’ll tell you when something like that happens, I promise.” You step back allowing yourself to get a good view of his face and him of yours. Something is different tonight you can feel it. “Hey, do you wanna drink a beer with me? I’m assuming you put Jeongwoo to bed and are a little tired?” You chuckle at his suggestion as his cheeks turn slightly rosy. After cracking open the case of beers you guys sit and talk, Yoshi brings up that Jeongwoo likes you. “He couldn’t stop talking about you—” “Oh really?” “Yeah… and neither could I.” This time when your eyes meet you both see each other feelings very clearly now. “I can’t stop thinking about you, I need you, I wan’t you, shit I think…I love you.”

In seconds your lips are crashed together, his hands navigating towards your waist as you both sink into the couch, “I need you so badly.” “Me too,” you gasp during the fight between your tongues. Your lips swollen mouth going numb from the intensity, “Are you sure you want this?” Yoshi asks breaking the two of you apart, “I’ve never wanted anything more than I want you right now Yoshi.” A low groan echoed from his lips, he quickly removes his shirt and helps you rid of yours. After, immediately reconnecting your wet lips together, teeth and lips and tongues clashing against one another as the space between you continued to decrease. He starts to trail down your neck, leaving small kisses scattered across your plush skin. “You’re so gorgeous,” he murmured against your chest, nipping lightly at your skin and leaving fluttering kisses across your torso. “So, beautiful baby.”

You are startled when his skillful hands undo the clasp of your bra, hastily tossing it to the side. His touch on your skin felt like burning bruises. You were melting at his touch and his scent overwhelmed your senses. “Yoshi,” you whimpered, clinging to him like he was going to ruin away, “I need you…now.” “Yeah?” He started to unbutton your pants, sliding them down your legs and throwing them with the rest of your clothes. His followed soon after. He teased you pulling at the hem of your underwear. “Love, do you really want this?”, he asks a final time before continuing. You nod, “As cute as your facial expressions are, I need words babe.” It’s a little late to be embarrassed now isn’t it, “Yes. Yoshinori please make love to me.” He smirked at you, that’s all he needed to hear. He quickly dealt with your underwear and proceeded to settle in between your legs. Letting them fall naturally over his shoulders. “I think that’s something I can definitely do.”

He kissed up your thighs, biting gently and leaving faint marks over the bare skin. You shuddered with every pressed kiss. The one on your clit giving you an instant of pleasure and relief where you needed him most. “You ready baby?” That melodic voice and glowing eyes you fell in love with looking for your approval once again yet this this time filled with lust. You were tired of holding back. You nod giving him the go ahead and he waste no time burying his face between your legs, licking a slow stripe over your entrance, “You smell and taste so good baby. You’re so perfect love.”

You could only hum in response, the way his tongue and his lips felt against your body had your mind running laps. Threading your fingers through his hair and pushed his face harder against you, he couldn’t help but letting his groans reverberate off you. Your orgasm was climbing up faster than you anticipated. You hadn’t had sex in a while so you knew it was gonna feel good but not this good. “Wait, Yo-Yoshi,” you managed to moan out, pushing his face away from you. He looked up at you, your arousal dripping from his chin. Did he do something wrong? Did you change your mind? “I need you inside…I wanna cum with you…”

He chuckles with a grin forming on his face once again leaning in to give you another passionate sloppy kiss. “Let me see…” He goes over checking in the TV stand for some condoms to no avail. “Shit…Love i’m sorry I—” You grab his arm and face him towards you, shutting him up with a kiss before speaking again, “Im clean and on the pill. I wanted you raw anyways baby.” Hearing how badly you wanted him as much as he wanted you put him at ease. He finally releases his dick from his boxers painfully hard and covered in pre cum. “Are you ready?” He asked softly lining up with your entrance, caressing your hair out of your faces gently. That look of care as if you were going to break with his touch. “I’m so ready.”

You squeezed his shoulders and gasped softly, trying not to make too much noise as he slowly bottomed out. It’s unlikely you’ll wake Jeongwoo considering he’s all the way upstairs but it’s better to be safe than sorry. He lets out a disheveled moan into your ears, hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises in the morning. “Fuck, you’re so tight.” Yoshi groaned quietly, his breathing heavy as he let’s you adjust to his size. “Move. Please…” you finally whimper, “Please… I need you.” His pace was slow to start, thrusting fully in and out of you making sure to feel every inch of you. Your lips locked together as to hide the lewd noises that threatened to escape at any moment. God you were so beautiful all he could do was whisper sweet nothings to you.

“I really love you, Y/N,” he moaned, “I don’t know the last time I loved someone as much as you.” “I love you too. So much,” you whined out, coming closer to your climax your vision became less and less focused, “Yoshi—Baby—I’m so close right there—mmm” Watching how good you felt and feeling how well you were milking him all he could do was agree. “Me too, baby, cum with me.” You nodded quickly, whines escape your lips from the overwhelming passion in your core. His pace started to stagger, “Fuck, I’m coming, baby.” Circling your clit the two of you came together. He held you closer to him as he released into you. You’re both out of breath, “Y/n…” suddenly his eyes are back to the Yoshi you know. “Yeah baby?”, looking at him you can’t help but fall in love all over again. “Please don’t leave me…I don’t know what I would do, what Jeongwoo would do if you left us now. Just stay with me ok, not just tonight but every night please?” “Oh Yoshi, how could I ever leave you.” You give him a quick peck on his sweaty forehead before reassuring him that you love him.

You end up laying there for a while before you both get up to do aftercare and cuddle in bed. You weren’t sure how things turned out this way exactly, or how you would explain it in the future but that didn’t matter to you right now. All you needed in that moment was each other and that was enough.

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enbysiriusblack · 3 months

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Remus showed up at the Pettigrew’s once again, a fairly common guest for the two women.

This time, however, he seemed lighter. Happier, but strangely nervous.

He sat on their sofa, slowly sipping the tea that Cora had placed in his hands moments ago.

After the cup was half gone and the women had patiently been staring at him for a good five minutes, Remus looked up and spoke.

"Sirius is innocent."

"What?" Lydia frowned, "What do you mean?"

"He was framed. By um- by Peter. Peter is alive but he was the real spy and framed Sirius."

"My son is dead."

Remus shook his head.

Cora leaned forwards, "If Sirius is innocent, shouldn't they be saying that in the news?" She nodded towards the television, "I don't know about your wizard news, but ours is still saying he's a dangerous criminal to watch out for."

Remus nodded, "Yes, about that. We don't have any proof. About Peter being alive, because he ran away. So, Sirius is still in hiding and we can't really do anything to help at the moment."

Lydia glared at him, "You're telling me my son is alive but he's a murderer and yet you have no proof?"

Remus slowly nodded, "Yes?"

"Get out."

Remus immediately stood up.

"Lydia-" Cora laid a hand on her wife's shoulder.

"No", Lydia continued to glare at Remus, "My son wouldn't hurt anyone. He died. He was a good person and he died. Maybe- maybe Sirius is innocent, okay? Yes, Sirius is innocent, he was such a nice kid. But that doesn't give either of you a right to make up lies about my son. Especially when he isn't- when he can't even defend himself... I'd like you to leave now."

Cora stood up with him, "Come on" she gestured to the door as Lydia buried her face in her hands.

She opened the door for Remus but he lingered in the doorway.

"Have you had any rats recently?"

Cora quirked a brow but shook her head, "Not for a long time."

Remus hummed, "I thought he'd come here."

Cora glanced behind her, making sure Lydia couldn't hear, before turning back to Remus, "Not to say I believe you that Peter is alive, and I know I only knew him for a few years, but he never really relied on me or Lyd when he needed some help or guidance. He always went to that James boy."

Remus fiddled with the handle of his suitcase, "Right. Well that's not really possible."

Cora nodded, glancing at Remus and fully taking in the look of him with a frown, "How is the new job going?"

Remus almost laughed, "Didn't really work out... I'm not too sure what to do now."

"Do you need some money?"

Remus instantly shook his head, "I couldn't accept that."

"Please", Cora huffed, taking out her wallet, "If Peter did do all that you claim, then it's the least we can do."

She held out five £10 notes, the entirety of her wallet other than a few pennies.

Remus hesitantly took it, "I'll send it to Sirius. Although I'm not quite sure how to get ahold of him, he flew off on a hippogriff."

Cora blinked in confusion, "Right, sure. Well keep it for yourself then, pay your bills, get some food for you and your father."

"Thank you."

(for you @jegulily-stuff )

#the bit at the end was me just thinking about why sirius isn't staying with remus.#like 1. sirius had to fly away quickly and remus still had to properly quit and everything #2. remus was so already a huge suspect after sirius escaped. aurors and shit were def investigating the lupin's home #3. remus is very very poor. living at his fathers as he can't afford his own place. unable to get a job. man is practically starving.#he can't afford to feed and house a whole other person rn.#anywayy #marauders era #marauders #lydia pettigrew #cora pettigrew #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #my writing

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bioethicists · 7 months

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Your post about how the clinical process surrounding mental illness and addiction was really interesting!

I wonder what your thoughts are about Housing First models and Common Grounds models? Because I feel like they speak directly to your points and provide the needs but also a structure that can be relied on if one wishes to change oneself.

my job as a research assistant is actually doing an evaluation of the benefits of a massive housing first project in boston! i am a fan of housing first particularly because i think everyone should be housed + the possibilities for life shrink dramatically the second somebody is unhoused, regardless of their substance use status. unhoused ppl are treated as less than human (sometimes less than animal tbh) in many spaces. i also have a personal investment because my brother overdosed in part because of the fact that he had been kicked out of his living situation for using + was forced to use with a depressed tolerance in a remote location. if he had been in a housing situation which was not contingent on sobriety, where others may have been present to narcan him or he would not have had the immense stress + trigger of dogshit menial labor jobs needed to pay the ridiculous, price gouging rents at sober living- i mean, i can't speculate, but it's something i do think about.

i think my hesitation with how it can be implemented is, again, the assumption that the end goal for everyone is recovery. my position is not "well some people can't recover" or "well some people can't recover until xyz is met" but "nobody is obligated to recover, ever, and recovery is a subjective concept which can be put to extremely reactionary uses. i want to reduce people's suffering and increase their possibilities for life."

i do think, based on my work, that it's really important for people who are using substances to have access to resources which facilitate their safety and happiness + a lot of them would probably choose either sobriety, MAT, or safer drug use habits if that was something which was easy for them to do. they often express genuinely felt desires to "get better" (in whatever way that means to them or whatever way they hope it means to me) but similar, competing desires to continue experiencing the benefits of their drug use, as well as avoiding the negatives of sobriety. while i chafe at the idea that all people's "true selves" want to recover (in the specific way that recovery is constructed by substance use treatment providers), i do think that most people want to suffer less. things like methadone/suboxone (or safe, legal, surveillance free supply!!!), medications provided on site, easily accessible, non judgemental medical treatment, etc can save lives.

it's important for ppl to be very skeptical of who is allocating/managing the resources for these interventions + their motivations. to be frank, i get scared about the future of the (admittedly imperfect) housing projects i work with because they are funded by the state of MA with the primary goal being to get ppl off the street, because housed members of the community were complaining about the encampments. the state very clearly wants to see that these projects 1) reduce the prevalence of visible homelessness and 2) reduce the rate of drug use among participants. my job is very explicitly to collect and produce data that indicates this + the questions i ask when i collect data are quite explicitly centered around figuring out if being housed makes ppl use less drugs. the point here is that the state absolutely can + will revoke the massive amounts of money it has allocated towards these programs if they don't see them as making people Stop Doing Drugs or Stop Wandering the Streets. this is why i think harm reduction responses should be grassroots responses originating within + for communities, as described in some of the chapters of Saving Our Own Lives. unfortunately, these communities rarely have the infrastructure or the resources to implement these projects, so they must rely on the state + all of its messy biopolitical motives

#anti psychiatry #substance use #overdose //

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ye-local-simp · 2 years

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Hello, I have a twst request. Can you do a savanaclaw, scarabia, vil and idia with an fem s/O who's like Starfire?

She's from a different planet/state, she is oblivious and speaks broken English/Japanese.

I'm sorry to whoever requested this but I am having a 5 character policy for now!!! Bit not to worry because I will just choose people from the dorms you included which was Leona,Jamil and Kalim.

[S/o like Starfire]

[LEONA,JAMIL,KALIM,VIL,IDIA]

Leona:

-All he can say is that you aren't the worst person he's met.

-Like he does find you annoying at times due to your bubbly nature but he does enjoy it too.

-Kind of like opposites attract since he is what people call the grumpy one while you are the joyous one.

-If you are going to ask if he cares about your broken language , he simply doesnt care.

-If he understands you, cool.

-If not, then he will teach you basic grammar untill you can grasp the basics so he can somewhat understand.

-He doesn't mind if you can not speak it properly because he thinks that it will take an excessive amount of time and he is too sleepy do that.

Jamil:

-You are way too much like Kalim.

-So he is torn from hating you or loving you at the same time.

-Since you have such a kind nature, you both understand his pain of taking care of someone but at the same time, you can not find his dark jokes funny.

-For the speech problem you have, he will offer to help you with some classes so that you are easier to talk to and you find it easier to communicate.

-All with your consent of course.

-Even though you are just as oblivious as Kalim, you still know what struggle is which makes him hate you less.

-Especially if you help him take care of Kalim although most of the time, you and Kalim are causing some sort of chaos in Scarabia,much to Jamil's dismay.

Kalim:

-You two get along so well that it causes Jamil the greatest pain.

-As much as he denies enjoying chaos, he does cause it quite a lot and the only thing that has changed about it, is that you cause chaos with him.

-He also shares the same oblivious mindset as you so don't expect him to be aware of danger for you, that'd be Jamils job.

-Being his partner also means your needs are added to Jamil's to-do list, sorry jamil.

-He is so nice to you but he straight forward when I comes to the way you speak.

-He helps you by helping you communicate with others than learning grammar since he knows how boring that could get.

Vil:

-He is gasping for air.

-How can he, a supermodel, be with a random bubbly person from another planet?

-But he can't really say he hates it, that's just the beauty of the relationship according to Rook.

-He probably asks you a few questions about your homeland and asks if you ever xonsidered being a model there or something.

-As you can see, he is trying to find ways for you to start wanting to look at your appearance.

-Mostly because you are so oblivious(he doesnt need another Neige)to everything including beauty.

-For your broken language, he takes the most action, from communication lessons to grammar books and he makes sure to be strict on you with these.

-Since he is a model, he does have a lot of wealth and will offer to pay for these classes because you are someone special to him.

Idia:

-Honestly, how did you even end up with this man??

-He finds your attitude intimidating but he does soon get used to it.

-As a person who probably has the biggest trust issues, he honestly does not understand how you can be so happy and oblivious.

-As for communication, ask Ortho.

-How can he help you, if he can not communicate himself??

-Even though it isn't the language, he most likely has a muttering and stuttering problem.

-But he is glad for your relationship since you are his first partner and Ortho loves you to bits too.

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widxwed · 8 months

Text

Kyle " Gaz " Garrick Headcanons

❛ Bloody right you do! ❜

- A / N : a request for a friend!

- CW : skulls + mentions of alcohol + mental illnesses

💣 ⁾ he is touch starved but at the same time doesn't want touch. he's very picky on who can touch him. even hugs or pats on the back are a no. he wont explain why but everyone on the team respects it and makes everyone else respect it. gazis a very cuddly person when he trusts the person enough though. especially with soap and price

💣 ⁾ he also hates the silence. though, he is a very quite person. he likes to sit with his headphones on just so he doesn't have to be in silence. he'll also hum or tap his fingers on things when its too quite and he doesn't have his headphones or phone on him. he just can't stand what may be lurking under the veil of silence. plus it's just creepy

💣 ⁾ he has autism, it's not very obvious but you can tell if you pay attention enough. he manages to hide it along with his hyper - activity and adhd. he's just a mental mess but he handles it very well and hides it from others

💣 ⁾ when he gets excited about a topic he will ramble about it. its one of the few times anyone is able to hear his voice for a long period of time. he especially does it with rudy because rudy just loves the golden retriever like boy. he just wants him to be happy

💣 ⁾ he loves reading. probably more than he loves himself or anyone else. he could sit with his headphones in reading for hours. funny thing is he hates audio books with his whole soul. he wants audio books to burn ( quite litterly what hes probably said despite the irony )

💣 ⁾ he also owns a journal that he draws and writes in. animals and guns are his main subjects. he also draws and lables flowers for fun. he loves to lable flowers. he's given all of his teammates paintings of flowers that are labled. every flower has their meaning and why the flower reminds gaz of them on it. he also likes to draw animal and human skulls. he doesn't even know why. especially with flowers

💣 ⁾ despite just being 24 he's pretty knowledgeable on alcohol. he personally likes whiskey and beer, especially darker beers. he isn't very picky but hes probably tried everything under the sun. he just likes to try new things, no matter how disgusting they may genuinely sound

💣 ⁾ when he does training he is pretty violent. he doesn't mean to be really! he just lets his anger out. his past wasn't the best so he was so used to just being violent. he normally trains with ghost and soap so that he can be as rough as he wants and they'll be okay

💣 ⁾ he is very much a junkrat at heart. i'm so sorry non - overwatch fans. he's a pyromaniac little shite. he loves his explosives. he also loves making them. he doesn't know how he got so good at it. he was a good fit for his job and ghost was happy that he loved doing his job. gaz seems to scare everyone with the fact that he was so good at throwing and making explosives

💣 ⁾ he has a good memory. he always remembers what everyone likes. especially food. he knows everyones favorite snacks or movies. one of the things that makes everyone off put is the fact that he remembers everyones fighting styles and guns. he's just that good at his job apparently. that's what he brushes it off as. he also remembers what everyone likes that he can draw. he'll draw them all the time and will give everyone the drawings

💣 ⁾ his love language is baking people food and gift giving

💣 ⁾ he's an amazing cook. he says its because he had to feed himself as a kid. everyone hated that answer but it was right. gaz always had to cook for himself. he loved cooking for others. it just made him feel so happy when other people are full and enjoy his food

💣 ⁾ he's just a happy lil man! my favorite happy lil man

This was not proof read! I apologize for spelling / grammer mistakes

#kyle gaz garrick #gaz cod #gaz mw2 #gaz garrick #kyle garrick #cod #mw2 #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod mwf2 #call of duty #modern warfare ii #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare headcanons #gaz Garrick headcanons #cod headcanons #kyle Garrick headcanons #kyle gaz Garrick headcanons #headcanons

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oatmealaddiction · 11 months

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Personal rant time: Right now the United States is seeing a huge erosion in small childcare centers, particularly family run centers which are unable to contend with the lack of teachers and care providers, as well as enormous demands from government licensing. It's going to lead to an uptick in corporate centers because many states do not acknowledge preschool as an imperative. This is terrible for working class families, especially those who don't work during the day and who rely on family centers. Parents will either have to quit, or use under the table childcare that's not been properly vetted. This is again because of the belief that raising children is a mother's job, and a push back against women entering the workforce. The work is continuously undervalued, and there is no appreciation for people who work with young children. Early Childhood Education is across the board, one of the lowest paying degrees a person can get. This had lead to the staffing crisis, it's lead to centers being shut down, and parents waking up to find out they're going to have to quit their jobs because there's no centers near them with any room. And while this is what a lot of conservatives want, the problem is we've hit a point where families with two working parents is a necessity for most people. Mother's can't just quit and rely on their husbands income. It is not possible.

Inside centers too, the demands put on teachers (a largely female workforce) is really unreasonable. Our hours often go over what are agreed upon, we're often pressured to work sick, and you'd be shocked to hear how many teachers have wet themselves on the job because using the bathroom meant leaving children unattended and there was no one available to get them a break. We're also micromanaged to hell and back because nobody seems to understand we're professionals who were trained in child care. Everything we do falls under immense scrutiny, and there's not a lot of protection for us. A lot of teachers also feel pressured to stay in their jobs because leaving could mean the center shuts down due to lack of staff.

Strict regulations also make it awful on the children. I once had a teacher who worked with largely autistic children, children with down's syndrome, or children with cerebral palsy, and she said that when she started, licensing regulations essentially stipulated the children be strapped in a car seat in an empty room with no toys. She had to fight tooth and nail to get children blocks and outside time and a classroom pet, only to retire and have all of the materials she'd worked to get be removed the second she was gone. I work at a center right now that says any book with a tear in it should be considered unusable and it's making it difficult to find books to read for my class, let alone toys that meet all the strict regulations. Which in the case of family centers, being unable to meet all of these demands often means being closed and families losing their childcare. (It should be noted corporate day cares are not held to the same standards as small private day cares. I worked at a corporate center where children were being served expired food.) And the biggest victims in all of this are the children. Like, what does it say about us that childcare centers are closing in mass and children are being pushed out of the public sphere that much more? That we're so concerned about the safety of children we've taken away their books and toys and pushed them back into their homes. The ability to have safe childcare is going to be restricted to the upper class and even they are going to be fighting tooth and nail over what little resources are left. Meanwhile, working class families could be forced to use a dangerous under the table center or have to uproot their entire family to make ends meet. It is legitimately a crisis. Childcare is a necessity, it is something we cannot neglect. Support universal preschool, volunteer at small centers if you can, and advocate for regulation that protects workers and children vs. regulation that continues to restrict childcare.

#childcare #rant #teachers #education

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a-b-riddle · 23 days

Text

Pen Pals Chapter One: Welcome to the Internet

I feel like most girls who claimed they loved world history either had a hot history teacher or a Percy Jackson obsession. Well, I'm not like most girls. I had both. I may have been failing math, but when I tell you I was passing history with flying colors...

It was 2009: I was a freshman in high school and at 14 years old, I was very impressionable. Full disclosure: I was not groomed. Well, by my teacher at least. My history teacher wasn't like that weird, over-friendly coach with the students. He was just hot. Very incredibly boring, but hot by my standards as a 14-year-old who up until that point had only kissed two boys, but read some very questionable fan-fiction.

Our semester closed on the unit about World War II. It was the week of Christmas, we just finished our finals and we watched a movie I highly recommend called 'Pearl Harbor'.

That movie just kind of fueled my obsession with World War II. It's like those little kids who had a really nice nurse when they were sick and they grew up wanting to be nurses. I saw Ben Affleck in a WW 2 uniform and was fucking SET.

Now don't get me wrong, I actually enjoyed it besides the hot actors. I loved the stories. I loved the heroes. Second Lieutenant Audie L. Murphy: The most decorated soldier of the war. He was credited for killing over 200 Germans. Corporal Desmond Doss was a medic, never picked up a weapon and saved 75 men by lowering them down from a freaking cliff. I cry every time I watch his interviews and if you want to know his full story watch Hacksaw Ridge. Then there was Private Steven Grant Rogers. Started out as an E-1 and then promoted to a O-3 (or a Captain) and was renamed Captain America.

Just like how people think of Tom Brady when they think of the Super Bowl, I did the same thing when it came to Captain America and the war. Now, I don't want to say I idolized the man, but I did admire the hero.

My obsession made me major in History and later get a Master's in Conflict Management. Now, I was applying to one of the biggest companies in the nation: Stark Industries. Now, that was partly because I could not find a job anywhere and someone that I went to college with started working in HR and was able to get me an interview. It didn't have to do with anything pertaining to my degree, but it had been a while before I was able to find a job that paid this well.

I felt like I was running my sponsor dry with his support and I had applied several times to multiple colleges in the city. I mean I had a freaking Master's degree with intentions of pursuing my Doctorate for crying out loud and the best I could do was be a personal assistant.

I was going to be a secretary. Nothing important, but the pay was more than exceptional.

Stark Tower was intimidating to say the least. Over 90 floors and reflective glass windows. It hurt my neck to look directly up at it.

When I walked into the building, security instructed me what floor to go to. When I got there, I was greeted with an empty desk. I waited several minutes downstairs before a strawberry blonde woman with cute freckles came down to greet me. "Hi, you must be the secretary applicant." She smiled. "I'm Pepper Potts. So you're resume here is quite impressive and Harrison in HR highly recommended you."

"Yes, I was so excited when he told me you had a position available."

"Usually, I would be doing the interview, but I'm afraid I have to head out on some other business, so if you want to take the elevator to floor 82, Mr. Stark will be waiting."

"Of course." I said holding a folder that contained all the documents he requested I brought in.

"Hello, Mr. Stark." I greeted.

"You must be Pepper's replacement."

"Oh," I said. "Is she not-"

"She's been made COO." He clarified. "She can't leave that easily."

"Oh, good." I said. "She seemed really sweet."

"To you, yes. To me, I can't do anything. Don't put your life in danger, don't challenge terrorists." He mocked. "She's no fun." He walked further into what I assumed was a common room of sorts. It gave no indication that he lived on that floor. There was a full bar and it looked more of a place he hosted parties. "So tell me a bit about yourself." He began to pour himself a drink. "Something that isn't on your resume."

"Um, well, I'm taking a course in French and Greek right now. Just online classes, nothing too time consuming. I prefer dogs over cats because I think that its important if you die, for your pet to at least be sad and I am the first one in my family to live in New York, that I know of. I'm the first girl to graduate with their Master's. I plan on eventually getting my Doctorate, but not for a while. I don't like hot coffee and I'm terrified of snakes."

"Who would actually prefer cats over dogs?"

"Pepper?" I asked to which he laughed, even though it wasn't that funny.

"I like you." He took a sip of his drink. "It's not liquor. Pepper has this rule that alcohol should only be consumed during certain times of the day."

"I think 9:30 on a Monday is acceptable. I was debating on getting Mimosas after the interview if it went well."

"And if it didn't?" He asked.

"I would say tequila, but I got food poisoning from the limes once."

"Really?" He asked.

"Yeah," I said. "I had about 15 limes and felt terrible the next day."

"I prefer a good scotch myself."

"I like anything that doesn't taste like alcohol. I'm really impressed that a bottle of wine can cost thousands of dollar, but I guarantee it can't be as delicious as a Moscow mule."

"I haven't had a Moscow mule in forever." He said. "They were my go-to in college."

"Where did you go to school?" His response was to point at a wall that was covered in awards and accomplishments. "You went to Andover?" I asked looking at his degree.

"Seven years." He said. "I really liked the science department."

"I've given a few guest lectures there. It's a lovely school."

"What was the topic of discussion?"

"The North African campaign during World War 2, but specifically the Battle of Ramree Island."

"History nerd. Nice." Mr. Stark replied sarcastically when the elevator door dinged. "Speaking of historical nerds."

If my legs could have physically turned into jelly at that moment they would. None other than Steve Rogers walked in with a blonde following dutifully behind. "Tony."

"Capscicle and the ice queen." He whispered too low for them to hear.

"Rogers, meet our new secretary." Tony introduced and started to head toward the elevator.

"It is such an honor, Captain Rogers." I said taking his outstretched hand.

"Please, call me Steve." He insisted. The blonde beside him remained quiet and eyed me up and down with a stoic expression.

"Not that I'm trying to cut you off, but I'll let you two old ladies reminisce on the glory days." Tony clicked the elevator door and waited until it dinged opened. "I have somewhere to be. Congratulations. You got the job. Blah. Blah. Blah. Monday at 9, don't be late." He pressed a button I couldn't see and the doors began to close. "Or do. I really don't care, but if you're late, bring coffee."

"He's..." I began, but couldn't quite pick the right word.

"Arrogant." Steve finished.

"I was going to say interesting." I said.

"So what 'glory days' was Stark referring to?"

"Oh. I gave a few lectures about a few battles at the University he went to. Nothing exciting."

"Well Mrs.-"

"It's just Miss." I said. That was stupid. Why did I say that? That was rude to cut him off like that. "Sorry." I apologized. Why was I apologizing?

"Well, Ma'am. It looks like we'll be seeing you Monday morning. If you're late Tony gets a triple shot of espresso and a disgusting amount of sugar in it."

"Being late isn't really my style. My mother always said if you're not early, you're late." Why was a quoting my zealot mother right now. Jesus, stop it. Not like Jesus Jesus. You know what, never mind. "I think I can find my way out." I said.

The walk back home I felt my cheeks burn the entire time. I haven't even started and I'm already flustered. Jesus, get a grip.

Suddenly my phone vibrated in my pocket. It was him.

*So how did it go?*

*I got the job* I replied back.

*That's wonderful. I'm so proud of you* I couldn't deny the pride that swelled inside of me at his praise.

*Thank you, although I did make a complete ass out of myself*

*How so?*

*Well, my new boss introduced me to one of his partners and I felt like I made a fool of myself.* I typed. *Not partner in the sexual way, but someone he works with. He called Mrs. and I corrected him and said 'no it's just MIss' like it didn't even matter, he was just being polite. Then I quoted my mother. I was just flustered, but I start Monday.*

C didn't reply after that. We were supposed to have a date tonight so I'm sure he would just finish the conversation later. I had a caprese salad, but ate mostly the mozzarella. I showered, shaved and waited until I got a notification.

*Sorry. Something came up. Regardless, I think you'll do great.* I smiled at his message, but was disappointment that he was cancelling our date tonight. Well the closest thing we came to date nights which usually ended in me being in an unsavory position.

Initially, C and I met on a chat forum in 2016. I was working on my senior seminar and had sort of an open ended question regarding the war. It was something along the lines of taking the notion that if a war on that scale were to happen in today's world in what ways would American citizens contribute to the war effort at home? Back in the 40s most companies like Ford made strictly military equipment. It was an honor to have a government contract whereas now it's more like any other business deal.

I received a lot of interesting responses, but a user named CR0876 replied that shifting the current American ideal of self-preservation to what we had before which was sacrificing for your country was the only way in which today's America could possibly aid in a war. I messaged CR0876 to further discuss the topic.

He wrote me: All I am saying is we now live in a day and age where you have people who won't vaccinate their children simply because they choose not to. They don't have an issue with you vaccinating your kids, but not theirs. We eradicated some of the deadliest diseases that are still present in some third-world nations and you have entitled people who don't trust science to preserve the health and well-being of not only their children, but everyone they come in contact with. The reason that our life expectancy has shot up isn't because of ground breaking medical break throughs like chemotherapy, it is for preventative measures. Getting vaccinated. Getting checkups. Wearing sunscreen. Washing your hands after wiping your ass.

A few minutes later he sent an apology for getting so riled up in his rant and I told him that no apology was needed and I completely agreed with him. From then on our friendship started to blossom.

Most of our conversations had something to do involving the war, but then it got more personal. I felt comfortable with him. I talked about my time at college and what I was studying. We went from a few messages a week to communicating everyday. Eventually when graduation came around, I offered him a graduation ticket. I was a little disappointed to find out it was too far for him to travel. He asked for my mailing address. That he felt guilty for missing such a big event and he wanted to make it up to me. I was a little apprehensive. I mean, we were taught to never give your stranger your address, but I was an RA in a college dorm. I would be out into the real world soon and he wouldn't know my room number or what I looked like.

So I sent it.

A few weeks passed and I got a pair of beautiful pearl earrings with a card that read. A beautiful girl always needs a set of beautiful pearls. Congratulations on all of your hard work. -C

Four and a half years later and I still have that card. We still talk about the war. I recommend him movies, while he recommends books then we both point on the inconsistencies. It was stupid, but it was fun. Now, I just sort of tell him about my day to day life and he tells me small tidbits about his. It was earlier in 2020 when the pandemic hit that things started to get... well things just changed.

I had just moved to New York in early February to start teaching at a local college. I was going to start with May-mester classes, but then Covid hit and the world stopped.

I had moved in with little to nothing. I had a few pieces of stuff for the kitchen and a bed. It wasn't much, but it was mine and I was damn proud of it.

My pride was short lived when I got the e-mail. In a panic, I sent him a message.

Hey can you talk?

Sure. What's up?

Is there anyway you can call me? I'm kind of in a bad place right now and I really don't have anyone else to talk to. I felt guilty as soon as I hit the send button. I'm not like going to hurt myself or anything I am just super stressed and if you have the time and energy, I just need to unload some stuff.

Seconds later my phone began to ring.

"What's wrong?" He asked. I took a deep breath. I can't believe this was the first time hearing his voice. It wasn't what I was expecting. I expected almost a pompous scholarly tone in his voice. But instead he was borderline on being batman. His voice was deep.

"They rescinded my offer." I took a deep breath. "I just spent all of my savings literally to move to this stupid freaking city and they told me over an e-mail 'we are sorry to inform you that your offer for employment has been rescinded until further notice due to the impending pandemic and the unforeseeable circumstances it holds. We deeply apologize for the inconvenience and wish you the best in your future endeavors.' They said sorry and good luck."

There was a pause and I heard him sigh. "Sweetheart, I am so sorry."

"Thanks." I rubbed the back of my neck. "Looks like that chapter closed before it got any good. I guess I can see if maybe I can do virtual learning for a high school, but I don't know if my degree is enough. I think you need an education degree to teach."

"But you always wanted to teach college..." His disappointment matched mine.

"I know..." I looked down at nearly clear streets of New York. "But I need a job, C." I sighed. "It's either that or call my parents and I would literally rather be homeless than ask them for help."

"How much?"

"What do you mean?"

"How much was your job going to pay you?"

"80k a year starting." I said and felt another wave of nausea wash over me. 80k wasn't much to some, but it was a lot for me and it would be doing something I loved.

"Tell you what, that is about 6 and a half grand a month. I will pay you 7 grand a month if you promise me not to give up."

"What?" I couldn't believe this. "There is absolutely no way I could ever accept that kind of money."

"It's not like I don't have it, Princess." He can't be serious. That's crazy. He never mentioned having money or being well off.

"And what do you want in return?" The butterflies in my stomach began to churn. God I hope he wasn't wanting to do anything... unethical. "Surely you wouldn't do that just because you want me to be a college professor."

"Nothing." He said. "Absolutely nothing. I just want you to be taken care of and pursue your dream."

"I really can't let you do that."

"It's only temporary." He tried to assure me, but I still felt guilty.

"C-" He was always so argumentative and authoritative over messaging and he matched it over the phone.

"I promise." He interrupted. "It won't put a dent in my wallet."

"Only until I have a full-time job." I tried to say.

"Until you become a professor."

"No," I said. "As soon as I get a job and can support myself."

"Sweetheart, it's not polite to argue."

"I appreciate it." I said. "I really do."

"So does that make your day a little bit better?" He asked.

"It does."

"Anything else gone wrong you need help fixing?"

"No." I responded and felt like a child and and adult came up to fix the mess I had made.

"Good." I heard him sigh. "I'm glad that was easy to fix and now, that I got you on the phone... it's nice to finally hear your voice."

Chapter Two: Confessions

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #tony stark #marvel #anonymous

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