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etherealising · 4 days

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chapter fourteen | your love is not too kind

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pairing(s): carmen ‘carmy’ berzatto x fem!reader

summary: you begin your hunt for a special surprise, while cortez and syd gang up on you. also an adventure between you and carmy ensues where you both receive advice from two very nosy old ladies, out of love of course. (honestly just a fun incoherent day with our two losers).

wc: 7.6k (thass a lot of filler)

The harsh cold of the Chicago air sporadically whipped across your face, the wind cut into the small patches of skin that weren’t covered by the scarf you chose to wear. You occupied yourself with the loose bits of concrete surrounding the sidewalk, kicking a few rocks around with the toe of your boot, one hand tucked tightly into your pocket while the other began feeling numb as you held your phone up to your ear.

Your eyes found Cortez’s figure inside the small cafe the two of you decided to meet up at, a smile tugging on your lips as you watched him converse with the person behind the counter while he waited for your orders.

The voice of the event planner on the other line continued droning on about what was expected of you at the gala tonight as if they hadn’t spoken to you in the months leading up to the gala or profusely sent you emails with an itinerary. You wished there was some way for you to get out of the whole ordeal, a few weeks ago you wouldn’t have minded but now you were resigned to spending your night with Hayden and a bunch of other mediocre middle-aged men who would pay you compliments for everything besides the journalistic work you pride yourself on.

You let out a small sigh followed by a noncommittal hum as you listened to the line go silent for the final time, stuffing the phone into your jacket pocket just in time to gratefully receive the to-go cup of hot cocoa Cortez patiently held out to you.

A nod of appreciation was sent his way as the two of you began your walk to the restaurant, your brows furrowed at the neatly wrapped box in his hand that wasn’t occupied with his cup of tea, “You buy the whole bakery or something?” You nodded towards what you assumed was a pastry box when he looked over in your direction.

A small smirk pulled at his lips “Nah, after ya little story about that sad ass baby shower you threw for Natalie, thought I could bring her some pastries ya know since I ain’t get no invite or nothin’.” You rolled your eyes slightly shoving your elbow into his side as you laughed him off.

“Aren’t we like not supposed to have a personal relationship outside of this sponsor sponsee situation?” A slight smile tugged at your lips as you listened to Cortez’s scoff.

“The way yo ass use me like a personal diary we might as well be fuckin’ friends.” Cortez turned his head away from you hoping it was enough to hide the small uptick of his lips, but it did next to nothing as you caught a quick glimpse of it.

You opened your mouth to respond, apologizing lightly to the stranger you almost ran into while your eyes were on Cortez. The man let out a huff of annoyance before carefully balancing his cup of the pastry box and then looping his free arm through yours.

“Bad enough I gotta listen to yo dramatic ass life stories, now I gotta be yo guide dog too?” Regardless of the quiet laugh he let out to signify he was joking, you weren’t sure how you put up with constantly being roasted by the man whenever you were in his presence.

You took another sip of your hot cocoa appreciating the way it warmed you from the inside out, a thought coming to you as you fixed your hold on the cup. “You seemed to know that barista at the cafe pretty well.” It was hard to keep the curiosity out of your tone, hoping if you avoided his stare he wouldn’t clock that you were trying to pry into his personal life.

Cortez let out a chuckle shaking his head at your antics, finding it amusing that you wouldn’t just outright ask him whatever questions you had considering all the times he’d intently listened and advised any dilemmas you went through. “Damn girl, you hella nosy!”

It was hard to hold back the laughter that began to bubble in you at those words, Cortez’s innate sassy nature was something you would always appreciate about him. “Nah I’m playin’,” the almost shy smile on his face cut off his words, and the reaction surprised you. “But uh, I been frequentin’ that cafe for a bit. They uh asked for my number last time I was there, we been talkin’ and shit.” He shrugged it off like he didn’t just tell you the most exciting news you’d heard all week.

Although his complexion didn’t allow for a blush to spread across his cheeks, you could tell he was flustered just by the way he was trying to hide his smile. “Talkin’ and shit hmm,” your imitation of him drew a frown from the man. “Is that all the two of you are doing?”

Cortez chuckled at the teasing undertone in your voice, “Ion really think that’s ya business ma.”

A quiet scoff left you at Cortez’s answer of course he would give you a morsel of his personal life, only to take it away when you got too curious. You didn’t mind though his life wasn’t really any of your business but you sure as hell liked to bug him about it like it was.

“What about you, still cut up over homeboy who stay playin’ with you?” If you spent any more alone time with this man you were sure your eyes would permanently get stuck in the back of your head from all the rolling they did.

“You don’t have to say it like that and actually ‘ion really think that’s ya business bro’.” The laughter from the two of you came immediately at how ridiculous you sounded when trying to mimic Cortez’s vernacular. The strange look from those gathered around you as you waited to cross the street did little to appease your good humor.

The two of you continued the rest of your journey in mostly silence unless one of the two of you made a quip here and there. You weren’t sure what compelled Cortez to tag along with you to the restaurant especially since you’d spoken in length about how you were doing with your sobriety back at the cafe, if anything you were sure Cortez’s nosiness was catching up to him and he wanted to put a face to all the myriad of names you mentioned. But you’d pretend his excuse about seeing Natalie was legitimate.

You stopped in front of the restaurant, the windows covered and not allowing anyone on the outside to see in. You looked back at Cortez for a moment, eyes narrowing as you watched a smug smirk grow on his lips, “What’s that look for?”

His smirk widened as he leaned around you opening the door, “Nothin’ ma just excited to meet that loser you stay fuckin’ cryin’ over.”

You scoffed turning to enter the restaurant, only to be stopped by the sound of Nat’s voice coming from behind the two of you causing you to turn in your tracks with a smile on your face as she approached both of you. Pleasantries were exchanged as the three of you headed inside, your eyes landing on exactly the person you were looking for as you excused yourself from the conversation.

As you made your way further into the restaurant, you realized what was so different about it. It was weird the more you looked around, you realized just how much things had changed thus far. In reality, the only major change you could pinpoint was the lack of walls, but it was also more than that to you, it was no longer the restaurant you once used to come to on the weekends when you and Carm were kids. While most of the foundation was the same there would be no more looking at a particular spot and being sucked into a memory from all those years ago. It was refreshing, to say the least, but it also felt like the last tangible piece of Mikey was being torn down bit by bit, piece by piece.

Nat’s laugh broke you from your reverie, your eyes finding her still locked in conversation with Cortez, whatever stress you’d seen on her face outside had calmed a bit as she spoke with the man. You turned moving to the man you were here to speak to, eyebrows furrowing as you watched Syd look at dishes on the table.

“Fak, hey mind if I cut in?” You waited for his response watching as his eyes darted between you and the man he was speaking with, the latter sending you a welcoming smile as he held his hand out to introduce himself.

The panicked look on Fak’s face as he fought the urge to step away and speak with you made it clear whatever he was doing with Tim was important, so you decided he could be privy to the conversation.

“If I let you in on a super secret mission, you have to promise me Carmy doesn’t find out.” You looked down at Fak in his seated position, the rapid nod of his head enough to let you know your words caught his attention.

You looked around the restaurant just to make sure Carmy hadn’t made a surprise appearance before turning and taking the nearest chair to sit in, leaning forward and beckoning Fak with you, Tim watching from his place next to Fak somehow just as intrigued.

“Okay, I need you to tell me everything you know about what happened to Mikey’s jean jacket, you know the one with that cool blanket lining?” You watched as realization flashed across Fak’s face.

His hands flew to his mouth as he tried to hide his excited laugh, the noise drawing not only Syd’s attention but Nat and Cortez’s as well before they returned to what previously held their attention. Your eyebrows furrowed as you shushed him hoping it wouldn’t draw anyone else’s attention.

“You’re trying to find the jacket for Carmy!” Your eyes widened at how loud he said Carmy’s name, regretting your decision to do this at the restaurant. “So is this like a lover’s gift because you know I’m Carmy’s best friend,” he paused, wincing as he looked at you. “No offense Baby, but you’d be like the coolest fucking girlfriend ever if you found that jacket for Carm.”

While Fak’s excitement made you feel hopeful that getting the jacket would be easier than you once thought, you needed to nip this idea of you and Carmy being an item in the bud before Fak got too carried away, no matter how much the idea warmed you inside.

“Uh…no, no Fak were just friends, but if I’m going to relieve you of best friend duties- thanks for stepping in for the past 10 years by the way,” you gave him a small wink. “I need your help to find that jacket, please.” The puppy dog eyes weren’t necessary but you needed to assure his help.

Fak kept quiet as he looked at you, both of you easily ignored Tim as he sat watching the stare-off between the two of you intently, waiting for one of you to crack. It was immediate the way Fak deflated into himself the excitement still there as he began telling you the information he knew.

You politely nodded along as Fak went off on various tangents, paying extra attention as he recounted Carm being beaten up by someone in a carrot costume, wanting to keep that in the back of your mind just in case you needed it. A few more attentive nods and quiet “mhms” left you before Fak finally gave you something you could work with.

“Chi-Chi? And you’re sure he has the jacket?” You were surprised, to say the least, but after listening to Fak explain how tough things got at The Beef, you understood the need for quick cash. Your mind tried to remember how you overlooked the state of the restaurant when helping out Richie last year.

“Thanks, Fak I really appreciate the help, don’t let Carm find out though please?” You raised your eyebrows hoping he realized how serious you were, your eyes dropping to his extended pinky before letting out a quiet laugh and connecting your pinky’s in a pinky promise.

You gave Fak one last smile in thanks before apologizing to Tim for interrupting their riveting conversation about music and returning the chair to the table you stole it from. As you looked up you caught Syd’s knowing smile out of the corner of your eye, the seat next to her occupied by none other than Cortez, a smile of his own lining his lips.

“Don’t you two just look cozy.” Your voice was sarcastic as you looked between the two of them, sure they heard the whole conversation and even more sure that Cortez provided Syd with commentary. Your eyes fell to the small wares lined up on the table trying to distract yourself from Cortez’s smug grin.

Cortez cleared his throat, “Baby?” The smile was evident in his voice before your eyes shot up to his. “Oh that shit was serious,” he paused on a laugh hand moving to wipe across his mouth. “Not you walkin’ around lettin’ grown ass men call you Baby.”

You looked in Syd’s direction for help, an awkward smile lined her lips as she looked between the two of you. “It’s a childhood nickname, why are you still here anyway?”

He shrugged finger tracing across one of the plates, “Nat asked me to stick around for lunch, and ya girl over here was starin’ at these dishes hard as hell, thought she could use a pastry.”

Your eyes narrowed at Cortez’s words, his hands holding out the pastry box to you in offering. Nat wasn’t around to corroborate his story but you also knew he was just as nosy as you and probably took up Nat’s offer in hopes of meeting Carm, you brushed it off before turning back to Syd.

“Why isn’t Carm helping you with all this?” Your hand moved in a gesture to everything set out on the table, you could feel the tension radiating off Syd like it was something palpable.

The look on Syd’s face was a mix of irritation and exhaustion as she looked at you before looking in Cortez’s direction, the man all ears as she decided whether or not to talk about what was plaguing her in mixed company.

“Oh, you know Carm, everywhere and nowhere,” she gave a forced laugh before finding your eyes, the look on your face telling her to cut the shit. “He’s stressing me out more than I already am, which isn’t great. There’s so much to get done and when I bring it up he’s already working on a million other things, or he’s just not even here”

You nodded understanding her frustration, “Makes sense, is there anything I could do to help maybe?” It was a shot in the dark but you understood how Carmy could get, and Syd didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of his shenanigans.

“I uh…maybe like I dunno, not occupy so much of his time…please?” Syd wouldn’t meet your eyes as she fiddled with the plate closest to her turning it back and forth. You were too shocked to say anything, Cortez’s chuckles filled the space your voice hadn’t.

“Damn ma, you just out here makin’ everyone’s life fuckin’ harder huh? Thought I was special.” Cortez sent you a small pout as you turned in his direction.

You sent him a mocking pout to match his, tired of being bullied by the man in front of you. “I’m sorry, why the fuck is the peanut gallery speaking?” He rolled his eyes mocking your words before you looked back in Syd’s direction, “Listen, Syd, I didn’t realize I was monopolizing all of Carmy’s time, and I apologize for any stress I’ve caused you, but for now on I’ll be more mindful of your time.”

Syd sent you a small smile, her shoulders relaxed as she realized you weren’t upset with her. Could her words have been nicer, maybe, but without them you wouldn’t have realized just how much Carmy spending time with you was taking away his attention from the restaurant. And while Syd definitely should’ve voiced her concerns to Carm, you were sure she was taking the less volatile approach by speaking with you.

The sound of Syd calling Carmy over drew your attention, your eyes immediately met Cortez’s as his eyes moved from a spot behind you before landing on yours. The two of you had a silent conversation through your eyes, trying your best to shut down any thoughts running through Cortez’s mind as a smug smile graced his features, hands raising in acquiescence.

A warmth at the small of your back had you turning to Carmy. His body now stood next to yours, you tried to tame your smile in front of Cortez not wanting to give him any more ammunition to tease you with. It was subtle but you felt the warmth of Carmy’s fingers trace across your lower back before his hand fell to his side.

“Hey,” his voice was breathy, quiet as his eyes roamed over your face taking inventory. “Are you good, did you eat?”

You gave a soft nod doing your best to ignore the way Cortez and Syd turned to look at each other in your peripheral vision.

“Homeboy just looks lost 24/7 don’t he?” Cortez’s words met your ears, you listened as Syd hummed in agreement, your eyes turning to the two culprits, Carmy’s following shortly after. Cortez stood up after that leaning over the table with his hand outstretched, “Good to properly meet you, kid, seein’ as we ain’t get a chance to talk last time I saw you.”

Cortez’s words confused you, eyes following the hesitant way Carmy’s hand met his. “You two know each other?”

Cortez shrugged smirking in your direction, “I ain’t say all that,” he paused before his eyes shifted to Carmy’s eyes his smirk widened. “Baby over here, talks so fondly bout you homie, feel like I already know you.”

You rolled your eyes at Cortez’s antics letting out a sarcastic laugh before gesturing between the two of them and speaking, “Cortez meet Carmy, Carmy meet Cortez.”

Carmy stood tensely beside you his fingers bumping into yours as his hand moved across his body to scratch his tricep, “I uh, remember you…from the church.” Carmy began nodding his head, this whole situation was news to you but it made sense considering neither man knew who the other was until today.

“That’s great, this is great. I love reunions, quick kinda off topic question which plates should we use to serve our guests, or are we going for a whole like BYOP vibe?” Syd’s hands gestured to the table with the various choices on it.

It was quiet for a moment as Carmy’s eyes flashed across the selection, “What’s BYOP?”

“Bring Your Own Plate.” Your voice along with Cortez’s rang out in sync before the man raised his hand towards you waiting as you reached out to high-five him both of you laughing.

Syd and Carmy shared a moment staring between the two of you before their eyes met. Carmy couldn’t understand it but for some reason seeing you and the man he now knew to be Cortez reminded him of you and Mikey.

“Um, this plate.” Carmy’s hands reached for a sleek black plate that you admired as he set down.

Syd grimaced before speaking up, “Well, that's 55 bucks a plate for that type of silence, so... ”

Cortez let out a low whistle as he leaned in closer to look down at the plate, “Damn y’all got money, them some nice ass plates.” Cortez looked up at the silence that fell over the group, “I can see my opinion ain’t wanted,” he raised his hands in surrender. “But when you got time I’ma need the name of the designer cause these mugs is fresh as fuck.”

You let out a quiet laugh, Syd’s mouth twitching at the corners from Cortez’s humor, “I’ll keep that in mind for your birthday…are sponsees allowed to gift their sponsors, things?”

“The best gift you could get me is yo ass shuttin’ the hell up.” Syd tried to disguise her laugh as a cough when you glared at her, you even saw Carmy’s lips twitch from the peripheral vision.

Before you could respond Nat made her presence known joining the group with an envelope of some sort in her hand. You tuned out the conversation Carmy and Nat engaged in as you occupied yourself with the dishware on the table, cataloging the pieces you thought were nice in your head.

Syd’s tired sigh pulled your attention as you caught the end of the conversation, Carmy offering to drop something off for Nat.

“I can drop that off, that way you two can stay here and get all the hard work done.” The voices quieted as your suggestion rang out, your eyes flashing around the group waiting for a response.

Nat nodded as she began handing the envelope over, “Will you have enough time to get ready for the gala tonight?”

You shrugged not caring too much about the event as you gripped the envelope. Before you could wander off and grab your belongings Carmy spoke up, “I’ll go with you.”

Remembering Syd’s earlier words you offered him a small smile before shaking your head back and forth, “Don’t worry about it, you’ve got plenty of stuff here to worry about.”

Cortez laughed looking between the group gathered around, “Damn it takes two of y’all to drop off a little envelope.”

Carmy ignored his teasing as he began speaking directly to you. “Did you drive here?” You shook your head no at his question, “So you’re just gonna walk all the way to Winnetka?” You weren’t sure when Carmy had become so sassy but you stood there staring at him with a slight smile on your face at his persistence.

“Oh my goodness please just go!” Syd’s words pulled the two of you out of your staring contest, “Just Carm, can we please go over plates and napkins when you get back, maybe even the chaos menu?”

Carmy listened to her request and nodded before turning to you nodding his head and signaling for the two of you to leave. You sighed feeling bad that you were once again occupying Carmy’s time, but the quicker the two of you got this errand done the quicker Carmy could return and get the important work done.

As the two of you moved away from the group, you couldn’t help the small smile as you listened to Syd and Cortez begin a conversation regarding Coach K.

The quiet song playing on the radio was the only noise filling the space of the car, your thumbs twiddled against the steering wheel, eyes locked on the pile-up of cars in front of you. You could feel Carmy’s eyes searing into the side of your head when he stole glances in your direction, for someone who was so adamant on joining your journey, he sure didn’t have much to say.

“Sometimes when I dream, it's always these fucked up scenarios where I’m in a car and I just don’t know how to drive.” You looked over to Carm to see his eyes already on you before continuing. “I always get in these accidents, like the brakes don’t work, or I just fucking crash right? And like what if this is one of those dreams?”

Carmy let out a quiet cough as he looked between you in the driver's seat and the cars ahead of you, “Is there uh…ever any passengers in your dreams?”

You smirked at his question before shrugging, “Sometimes but they never actually have a face, their faces are just smooth.”

“You know how fucked up that sounds?” Carmy’s voice was incredulous as he caught your eyes once more, the two of you sharing a laugh at the whole thing.

While an unusual conversation started, it did the job to break whatever tension had settled between the two of you, as you could see Carmy’s body relax into the seat out of your peripheral.

“So Cortez…he’s your uh sponsor?” Carmy listened as you hummed in approval of his question, his eyes strayed to the way your hands moved to signal a lane change.

You weren’t sure why you agreed to drive knowing how much other drivers pissed you off, “My sponsor, personal pain in the ass. Same difference.” You gave Carm a small smile as you checked the passenger side mirror before merging.

Carm nodded debating whether the questions racing through his mind deserved to be spoken aloud. “What’s it like?” There was a moment of silence between the two of you, Carmy realizing just how insensitive the question was, “Shit uh…you don’t have to answer that.”

Carmy’s question rang through your head as you thought of how to respond. You weren’t sure if meeting Cortez made him so curious or if he had underlying questions since finding out about your accident, it was worth mentioning that your experience wouldn’t help him understand Mikey and his experience even more but that wasn’t a conversation you wanted to get into while driving.

“It’s a lot of fucking discipline,” you stopped trying to gather the best way to articulate your feelings. “There’s this romanticized idea of what being a recovering addict looks like, and it's honestly a bunch of bullshit. People think you make the choice, you get clean, and then like fucking magic you’re just cured.”

Your eyes were hyper-focused on the road as you drove, the words pouring out of you without a second thought. “I’ll be a recovering addict for the rest of my life, there’s no end to this shit. My whole life is different now, the day I chose to use, will affect every single choice I make going forward.”

“And I don’t think I have to tell you, but this shit is a disease. I’m fucking sick Carm, and there’s no getting better, not really. Recovery is like putting a bandaid on a wound that needs fucking life-saving surgery, but the surgery doesn’t exist and you just hope to fucking hell your bandaid will last. I used to be one of those people you know…I thought addicts just had to get clean and all was good again but then I lived that shit.”

Carmy hung onto every word intently, watching the sheen that overcame your eyes as you followed the GPS directions on autopilot, your hands tightening around the steering wheel every few moments as he lost you.

“It’s a lot of pretending too…for me at least, pretending that I’m fine, pretending that the urges aren’t there slowly eating away at me if I give them too much thought.” You paused sniffling as tears fought to drip down your face. “P-pretending I didn’t tell Nat it was her fault that M-Mikey passed, that she should’ve paid more attention as I laid there saying the most vile things hoping they’d give in and just give me something. Pretending I don’t spend days locked away in my room as thoughts of just using one more time bring on bouts of anxious tremors.”

Carm watched you from his spot in the passenger seat, through all that you somehow managed to safely navigate the two of you to your destination. His chest felt tight as a few tears slipped down your cheeks, his eyes catching sight of the way your grip slackened on the steering wheel, the appendages shaking slightly. He could feel the disgust rising in his chest as he realized if it weren’t for his curiosity you wouldn’t be upset.

Carmy unbuckled himself, hands reaching out to collect yours between his. Your unfocused eyes found his as he gave you a minute to collect yourself, the embarrassment of the moment washed over your face. “Sorry, I probably should’ve taken Cortez up on his offer to meet more often.” You let out a pathetic laugh hoping the severe look of concern on Carmy’s face would slowly ebb away.

You allowed him to unbuckle you before his hands found yours once more, you watched as he brought them to settle against his warm chest just barely realizing the slight tremors radiating off of them. He held your hands against his chest allowing the warmth to help calm you down, the steady beat of his heart bringing the comfort you needed.

Carmy’s hands moved from their place atop yours before moving to pull you into his chest as best he could. Neither of you said a word about the uncomfortable way the center console dug into your stomachs. As Carmy’s warm lips pressed into your temple you relaxed into him as much as the positions allowed for his arms bringing you the comfort they always did.

You were thankful that Carmy agreed to the pit stop you’d asked him to make. After sitting in the parking lot for longer than necessary you realized it would be easier to pick up your dress now rather than Carmy dropping you off at home and then leaving to pick it up.

The gentle squeeze to your hand stole your attention, your eyes were staring out the window, not focused on anything in particular as you debated whether to attend the gala or just forget about the whole thing and spend your night home alone. You turned to face Carmy, a small smile on his lips as he nodded to the house he’d parked in front of.

Both of you exited the car meeting up in front of it before you offered him your best encouraging smile and led the way to the door. The warmth radiating off his body behind you is the only notion to let you know he followed you before your hand reached to press the doorbell.

It was a few minutes before a voice yelled from inside the house, noises met your ears as the door was yanked open. The screen door made it difficult to see exactly who stood behind it, but the dramatic gasp let you know who it was.

“Well I’ll be damned Baby, you sure do know how to pick up stray…dare I say bears.” The joke was mediocre at best, but it was Ms. Sadie’s high-pitched laugh that stole a giggle out of you as you turned in Carmy’s direction, eyebrows raised in amusement.

Ms. Sadie left the two of you on the porch, quickly unlocking the screen door as she moved slower than she once did all those years ago, the sound of the lock was enough of an invitation. “We won’t stay long I promise,” you knew just how uncomfortable being social made Carmy. “Take off your shoes.”

Carmy nodded as he watched you step out of your shoes before moving inside his motions following yours. He hadn’t seen Ms. Mable or Ms. Sadie since returning to Chicago, he honestly wasn’t sure they were still alive, but he remembered just how much the two women loved you all those years ago and while he was never as close with them as you and your mom, he felt his cheeks warm at the idea of you bringing him to their house, it didn’t mean anything but he couldn’t help the way his mind read into it.

“Mabel! Baby’s here, and she brought her little friend.” Carmy followed you through the living room as Ms. Sadie’s voice rang through his ears, his eyes floated around the room landing on several photos of you throughout the years, his hand reaching for a photo of the three of you at what he assumed was your college graduation. Carmy’s eyes studied your smile frozen in time, your happiness practically radiated through the picture as you stood in your cap and gown. He knew he would never have these memories with you, and knowing that everyone else besides him celebrated your successes no matter how big or small would always stick with him.

“Carm,” the whisper of your voice made him look in your direction, finding your hand reaching out for him, he gave you his small signature smile before replacing the picture frame.

Carmy allowed you to lead him through the house before the two of you stepped into the sunroom, Ms. Mabel sat at a table, a game of chess in front of her. His fingers twitched as your hand left his to greet the woman, watching as you dropped down to hug her, the older woman’s eyes landing on his as they lit up. He stood awkwardly trying to ignore the glare Ms. Sadie pointed his way as her partner whispered something in your ear. Your soft laugh rang through his head like a breeze in the early morning.

“Carmen Berzatto, you just gon’ stand in my house and not say nothin’?” His eyes widened as he looked between you and Ms. Mabel, mouth opening and closing as he watched a slow smile rise to both of your faces. “M’ just messin’ with you honey, Baby’s been tellin’ us about the restaurant, been wonderin’ when she was gonna bring your round.”

A tense smile raised to his lips, the sense of uncomfortableness slowly ebbing away as you moved back to his side. “Baby, why don’t you go on with Mabel and get your dress, I’ll get Carmen here to help me in the kitchen. I know y’all can’t stay long so we’ll send y’all off with some red beans and rice. How that sound?”

Carmy gave you a reassuring smile as you looked in his direction, he couldn’t voice it but Ms. Sadie intimidated him and he knew her suggestion wasn’t a question but more so a demand as his eyes flitted to Ms. Mabel trying to hide her chuckles behind her hand. His head began nodding before he even realized, your hand reached to give his a light squeeze followed by the smile that was etched into his memory as you and Ms. Mabel left the two of them.

You stepped from behind the partition beaming as Ms. Mabel gasped, clapping her hands. You did a little spin once you made it to the middle of the room stepping on the raised dais so the older woman could assure the alterations were perfect. You watched the woman move around in the mirror thankful for her agreeing to make the few alterations you needed, staring at the way the dress hugged the shape of your body made you feel a bit better about the gala tonight. You hoped the confidence you felt as you stood there would translate to the event and help you get through the night.

“So, you and that Berzatto boy.” Ms. Mabel’s words had a knowing undertone as her eyes met yours in the mirror, a kind smile on her face to let you know her curiosity was genuine.

You gave a slight shrug trying not to show just how flustered the question made you, “We’re friends again if that’s what you're asking.”

Ms. Mabel’s smile widened in the mirror before her mouth opened taking the form of an ‘o’ as she gave you one more once over. “Do you permanently alter your body for all your friends?” The question was paired with her cold fingers tracing the amalgamation of lines that now ran down your spine, a quiet gasp escaped you at the feeling. “Now I was born at night Baby, but I wasn’t born last night. And I know for damn sure you didn’t have this tattoo when I first took your measurements.”

A warmth flushed over your body at having been called out by the older woman as she gestured for you to step off the dais and join her on the settee, your mouth opening to respond.

“Hush up for a minute now,” her wrinkled hands reached out to cup yours as they fiddled in your lap. “It’s beautiful work Baby, don’t get me wrong but I would like to see you find the happiness you deserve before I leave this Earth.” She waved you off as you opened your mouth to protest, “Now Sadie and I ain’t gon’ be here much longer and we love you like you’re our own. But don’t you think you’d be happier if you let that boy go?”

A sigh deflated your body as you took in Ms. Mabel’s words it would have been easy to get defensive and fight tooth and nail for Carmy like you usually did, but you knew she was only asking because of how much she cared about you. You allowed yourself a few seconds of silence as you thought of your response, searching for the best words so as to not disrespect the woman you held in such high regard.

“I think I would be a lot happier if I let Carm go,” saying the words out loud left a bitter taste in your mouth and you weren’t sure if it was the remnants of truth left on your tongue or heartache. “But letting him go wouldn’t remove the space he’s made for himself in my life. We lost contact for 10 years and even that wasn’t enough for me to forget the memory of him. It’s like,” you paused your eyes looking up into Ms. Mabel’s before continuing.

“The love I have for him is burrowed deep in me, like roots. And it’s more than just being in love with him, it’s the love I shared with him growing up, in friendship. I don’t know Ms. Mabel, maybe it would be easier if we didn’t encompass each other’s lives in the way we have, a-and maybe it’s stupid of me to one day hope he could devote himself to me, but whatever love I have for him, I’m just not sure I could find it in someone else.”

The crow's feet by Ms. Mabel’s eyes crinkled up as she offered you a warm smile, her hands squeezed yours as a way to translate the care she had for you. “You know I was married before Sadie right?” Her question had your eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “I didn’t love him, hardly knew him but all women were good for back then was marryin’ and homemakin’. There was someone else though, and the shame those feelings caused me put enough fear in me to marry that man. And he was a good man, treated me right, respected me, but I just couldn’t love him the way I loved my Sadie.”

There was little surprise on your face as Ms. Mabel revealed the identity of the person who held her true affection. “I won’t get into all the messy details, but when I was finally free of that marriage Sadie and I found our way back to each other, and it was then that I knew, no matter what I could never love another soul in the way my soul loved Sadie’s. So no Baby, it’s not stupid but you can’t allow that type of love to live rent-free in you if whoever’s on the other end of it ain’t returin’ the affection. Sometimes Baby it’s just best to love from afar.”

Ms. Mabel pulled you into a warm embrace as she finished talking, hoping that her words wouldn’t just go in one ear and out the other. “Now gon’ on and get outta that dress you done let me talk your ear off so long you might not have enough time to get ready.” She smiled as you laughed along with her before stepping behind the partition to redress.

You and Ms. Mabel stepped into the living room laughter left the both of you as you maneuvered the dress bag so it didn’t get caught on any of the shelves. Carmy and Ms. Sadie seemed to be in deep conversation as the two of you entered the room, a part of you surprised at how comfortable Carmy looked sitting on the plastic-wrapped couch.

“Sadie stop talkin’ that boys ear off Baby needs to go home and get ready.” The sound of Ms. Sadie sucking her teeth caused you to laugh as Ms. Mabel mumbled about how the other woman talked too damn much.

Ms. Sadie said something to Carmy before rising from the couch taking both of their mugs with her before returning with a plastic bag full of Tupperware, “Oh Baby, you got that little fancy gala tonight don’t you.”

You looked in her direction as you moved through the living room to reach Carmy’s side, “Yes ma’am, Ms. Mabel’s alterations were perfect as always.”

“Mhm, so Carmen here is your plus one?” She raised her eyebrow in question as she handed the bag of food over to the aforementioned man.

You tried to ignore the heat of Carmy’s eyes as he turned to look at you. Shuffling in your spot as you looked to Ms. Mabel for help while she pretended to pick up the nonexistent dust particles on one of the shelves. You weren’t sure why she was even asking this question, you’d explained to both of them you were unsure about inviting Carmy every time Ms. Mabel asked.

“W-well I would love for Carm to come with me,” you looked in his direction as his eyes fell to the floor, a blush coloring his cheeks. “But it’s last minute and who knows if he even has a suit. A-and I’ve taken up too much of his time already. Syd really needs him back at the restaurant.”

Ms. Sadie narrowed her eyes at you being able to smell your bullshit before you even opened your mouth. “Well, speak up Carmen.”

You watched as Ms. Sadie raised her eyebrows to Carmy as he looked up, the older woman trying to communicate something without using words. “N-no…uh yeah, Baby’s right I uh gotta get back to the restaurant.”

Ms. Sadie didn’t even try to hide her sigh of disappointment as she shooed to two of you out of the house, Ms. Mabel joined her partner as they walked you and Carmy out to the porch, “We’ll see you for Sunday dinner right Baby?”

You nodded before being pulled into a hug by both women receiving kisses on both of your cheeks, “And you bet not show up here without Carmen.” Ms. Sadie’s words tickled your ear as she whispered to you before pulling away. You gave her a confused smile while nodding, since you’d been back in Chicago Ms. Sadie had made her disapproval of the youngest Berzatto clear, and you couldn’t pretend to know what had changed in the 30 minutes she was left alone with him.

Ms. Mabel and Ms. Sadie stood on their porch waving you and Carmy off as they watched his car pull away. “What got you invitin’ Carmen to our house for Sunday dinners?” Ms. Mabel looked up at her wife having heard her whisper to you, “Thought you didn’t like that boy after everything.”

The taller woman shrugged her shoulder before wrapping her arm around Ms. Mabel’s waist, “That boy just needed some sense smacked into him.” Before Ms. Mabel could open her mouth to protest, Ms. Sadie hushed her. “I’m just messin’ but before you scold me for not mindin’ my business you better figure out which one of us is the pot and which one is the kettle.”

They divulged into boisterous laughter as they stood there in each other’s embrace. Relishing in just how well they knew each other, “If that hardheaded boy don’t make his move tonight I’m uninvitin’ his ass from Sunday dinner.”

Ms. Sadie’s heart warmed as she watched Ms. Mabel’s face light up from just how much she laughed. Ms. Sadie led the smaller woman into the house, and although her jokes regarding the Berzatto boy got raucous laughter from her lover, she sure would be put out if she sat her old ass on that couch talking sense into that boy instead of watching her program and he decided the wisdom she kindly bestowed upon him didn’t need to be put to use.

a/n: i know this was a bit much for a filler chapter but i promise it sets up a very important story arc that we’ve all heavily been anticipating. hope you all enjoyed, hope you’re all doing amazing my loves! reblogs and comments are much appreciated! 🫶🏽🤎

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmy x you #carmy the bear x reader #the bear fic #the bear x reader #the bear x you #all i ever knew only you ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

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lyrelyretheresmeninthathorse · 2 years

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A Secondary Characteristic

Summary: After the team chat about attraction, reader is determined to test one of Spencer’s theories.

A/n: Thank you for the request! My uni exams are over for this year so hopefully I’ll get back into a regular routine with posting! Please let me know what you think 🖤❤️

Masterlist I Requests

Sipping your coffee you immediately held back a grimace at the sweetness. Garcia had kindly brewed it for you and, from the taste, had also dumped several packets of sweetener in the drink before handing the mug to you with a grin. Casually, you placed the mug back on the tabletop, slyly pushed it several inches from you, and folded your hands in your lap as you nodded along to Emily’s story.

“I just don’t get it!” She lamented finally, a sigh escaping her, “are guys just habitually dropped on the head as kids?”

Garcia giggled raucously, whilst your amused eyes flickered to the figures appearing in the doorway. Cocking an eyebrow at Emily you offered, “why don’t you ask them?”

“Ask us what?” Morgan questioned, almost nervously, as he settled heavily into his chair.

Spencer sat more lightly beside you, as was usual, and shot you a smile. It was that shy smile of his where his eyes struggled to meet yours. It was so very familiar to you, this nervous little uptick of his lips, as it was usually the first smile he offered you each morning. Leaning slightly over the table, you pushed the plastic tray of day old biscuits towards him. He took one of the chocolate covered ones and murmured a thanks to you before his attention was taken by Emily’s response.

“Do guys just have this… innate inability to think straight when breasts appear?”

Morgan laughed and cast a questioning gaze over the group. “And where has this come from?”

JJ, through a mouthful of vanilla wafer, answered with a chortle. “Emily had a date last night.”

“A bad date,” you specified quickly, sharing a humoured look with Spencer.

“No, not a bad date,” Emily corrected with faux sternness, “a disaster. We had this beautiful waitress and he spent the whole night ogling her chest whenever she came over.” She paused briefly to take a sip of her coffee. “I could barely even order my starter because he interrupted to ask for her number.”

Morgan guffawed at that particular revelation, sending Garcia tail spinning into hysterics alongside him. Emily was also laughing despite herself, her attempt at a semi-serious question coming out stuttered and uneven.“So, come on,” she managed before another chuckle bubbled past her lips, “tell me. What, do boobs just turn off all your brain cells?”

Morgan gave a half-hearted shrug. “What do you want me to say?” Defensively, he held out his palms. “I’m a guy.” Was all he gave, as though it provided answer enough and, unfortunately, it seemed to. Feeling the annoyance of all the women at the table flaring , he looked to the only other man for support. “Back me up here, Reid.”

In a show of his intelligence, he did not immediately back up his friend’s clearly controversial opinion. Instead, Spencer gave a more measured and academic response. “You know, there’s actually very little logical reason to find breasts sexually arousing.” Immediately, you raised your eyebrows at that; you were almost certain that you had caught his eyes wandering over your figure at least once or twice.

Morgan voiced your disbelief. “Okay, okay, no logical reason sure but c’mon, attraction is never logical.”

Spencer didn’t seem to understand Morgan’s request for a departure from logic and barrelled on oblivious. “I’m serious! They’re not even primary sex organs, they’re classified as secondary characteristics of-“

“Alright, alright,” Morgan stalled him with disappointment, “I get it, thanks for backing me up, man.”

JJ patted Spencer on the back and gave an encouraging, “well, I think that was a great response, Spence.”

All through the ensuing conversation you were watching Spencer with a crinkled brow that slowly smoothed out as a devious plot formed in your mind. Drumming your fingers upon the table you fidgeted in your seat in a poor attempt at stemming your rapidly building excitement.

Four hours later and you were walking to the group’s favourite bar for the usually scheduled Friday night drinks. You had taken a break from tradition and gone home after work to change. The others had wasted no time in questioning your motivations but you reassured them that you would meet them there.

You walked into the bar, coat wrapped tightly around your torso, and you pushed your way through the inebriated crowd. A hand waved at you through the crowd and, quickly recognising that the hand belonged to JJ, you drifted over to the table. “You made it!” She welcomed you with a hug.

Spencer quietly gained your attention. “I-uh- I saved a seat for you.”

You heard Morgan snickering somewhere to your left, but you ignored him and sent a warm smile to Spencer. “Thanks.”

Taking a deep breath, you unwrapped your coat from your torso and casually slung it over the seat that Spencer had so thoughtfully saved for you. You were a confident individual by nature, but even you felt some stirrings of nerves at how much cleavage you were currently displaying.

A low whistle sounded from Emily before, in a high tone, she excitedly told you; “Damn! Look at you, you got a hot date tonight or what?”

You shrugged as you sat down, answering with a forced casualness as you looked down at your chest. “What? They’re just secondary characteristics, right Spencer?” You looked up at him with the wide doe eyes of the entirely innocent.

He swallowed thickly, eyes darting all over the place in a clear sign that he didn’t quite know where to look. “Uh… y-yeah,” he eventually managed.

You certainly weren’t satisfied with that, as flustered as he may be.

Fiddling with the left strap of your top, you pulled Spencer’s attention to the thin strip of fabric. “Spencer, what fabric do you think this is made from?” He gave the fabric a very cursory glance before quickly looking up to the ceiling of all places. “Cmon Spencer, please take a look!” In a nervous gesture he swept his hand through his hair, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down before he nodded resolutely to himself and looked towards the fabric. “It’s been bugging me since I bought this top,” you explained lowly, “the label says cotton blend but blended with what?”

“I-“ he started hoarsely before clearing his throat and trying again. “I’m not sure.”

“Oh,” you pouted before leaning considerably closer to him with your arms pressing your breasts together. “Feel it, I think it feels like nylon but who knows?”

“Uh-“ he tried to protest but you pouted again and he gave in immediately. Fingers reaching out to feel the fabric strap his knuckles brushed against your bare skin and you gave a small hum of satisfaction that only he could hear. His fingers stilled and his, now darkened, eyes met yours before he struggled out; “it-it’s nylon.” Immediately after these words had left his lips he staggered up from his chair and rather loudly announced “I-uh-I’m gonna get some air.”

As he rushed away you felt almost guilty but satisfaction saved you from any significant ill-feeling. JJ snickered beside you, stirring her fruity cocktail as she shook her head with a wry smirk. “You’re evil, you know that?.”

Huffing, you smirked and made an attempt at defending yourself. “Oh cmon, I was just… proving a point.”

Morgan laughed and looked to Spencer’s now vacated seat with raised brows, “what, by giving boy wonder a stroke?”

Grimacing, you looked out to where Spencer had disappeared to. Clicking your tongue, feeling remorse tinging your victory, you stood up. “I better go… apologise.”

You made it barely two steps before Emily called out to you, “take your coat maybe?”

Nodding, you backtracked and grabbed the garment from the chair. “Good plan.”

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7grandmel · 3 months

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Todays rip: 10/02/2024

Nostalgic Blood of the Gregg ~ Old Source

Season 5 Featured on: Bloodstained Bounties ~ The SiIvaGunner All-Star Summer Festival 2021 Collection [Event Side]

Ripped by minindo

youtube

Way early into the blog's life, on the 20th of July 2023, I covered the rip Everything Circus - a Season 2 rip featuring one of my all-time favorite channel memes, hhgregg. I didn't cover all too much on the guy back then beyond the basics: The source was sparingly used in Season 1, then gradually received an uptick in popularity until finally earning himself a full-on channel event in Season 5. Last, we covered a rip from before this uptick - now, I think its only fair we tackle one that shows the fruits of that initiative.

The hhgregg meme was one of many that I only discovered through SiIvaGunner, yet it was far from the first to actually popularize it: HydroDalek's "doin" YTPMV was uploaded a year prior to SiIvaGunner's premiere, and sits at a 1.5 million views as of writing, and is of course paired with the excellent remix "ReDoin" by JerryTerry, made two years later, sitting at 2.4 million. hhgregg's infamous attempt at creating a memorable mascot for their brand seemed to at first be met with nothing more than annoyance, only for a subset of internet users to slowly mutate feelings into feelings of...affection, I suppose. Either way, as someone entirely out of the loop on all things relating to American retailers, that affection definitely rubbed off on me - after just being exposed to a small handful of rips, and then later being led to the rabbithole of YTPMVs dating back to 2014, I was hooked on the guy.

And its not something I believe I can put quite so easily into words, either, beyond pointing you to a rip like Nostalgic Blood of the Gregg ~ Old Source for a direct demonstration. Wally Wingert is an excellent actor and performer in perhaps everything BUT his role as singing for hhgregg's Christmas sales of the summer season - yet YTPMVers throughout the last decade have been able to put those vocals, and vocals from the hhgregg mascot's entire television career, to incredible use. It's almost comparable to PSY in what I wrote about him in Korean Idiot - manipulation of hhgregg's distinctively nasally, yet self-assured voice has effectively become an instrument all of its own.

Pair that with the hyperactive yet constantly rhythmic and engaging flow of much of Touhou's music, Nostalgic Blood of the East ~ Old World not excluded, and you get something truly special. Yet the crazy thing is, Nostalgic Blood of the Gregg ~ Old Source was but one of several other incredible rips utilizing the source during Season 5. It was, after all, his long-overdue event - the long-awaited Christmas in July - and the amount of rips that went completely above and beyond just as Nostalgic Blood of the Gregg ~ Old Source did was absolutely remarkable. Speaking as someone who used to get hyped up back during the early days of seeing...what, the fourth or fifth ever hhgregg rip be uploaded? It did genuinely bring me so much excitement to finally see the most underrated SiIvaGunner source get the spotlight all to himself. hhgregg is, in all honesty, an oft-overlooked titan of recent YTPMV culture, a shining example of just how far some crazy cool people are able to take a series of voice clips that only initially spread online out of distaste.

Though I lack much knowledge on Touhou, and I wasn't really able to live through any prior attachment to the hhgregg character as a European myself - the sheer power of good ass YTPMV and minindo's undeniable talent in what he does carries Nostalgic Blood of the Gregg ~ Old Source through. It's an absolute banger using one of my all-time favorite SiIvaGunner sources, and I'm so happy it got to be part of the guy's big event. In a Season already defined by its various side events, hhgregg's long-awaited time in the spotlight is still one of the things I cherish most about Season 5, and the rips that came in tow with that day were absolutely worth the wait.

#todays siivagunner #season 5 #siivagunner #siiva #minindo #hhgregg #christmas in july #ytpmv #ytp #hhgregg ytp #touhou #touhou project #touhou 8 #Youtube #Bandcamp

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void-galaxy-shenanigans · 2 months

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This probably won’t shock anyone, especially on Tumblr, but I wanna share anyway because it’s freeing.

¡We’re polyamorous! We suspected it a while ago, but now officially coming out about it because we now have 2 girlfriends and a new crush.

~~ Happy rambles about our lovers / how we found out: ~~

We met our first girlfriend, M (she/fae/they), in September of 2023. She was the first lover who actually met our needs and paid close enough attention to learn our nonverbal communication and subtle tone clues (“eh” can mean yes or no, but it's yes if it's higher pitched & quick, & it's no if it's lower, drawn out, and wobbles in the middle (eh-eh)). Fae started to identify which laugh was flustered vs happy / amused vs anxious / uncomfortable. They started to catch on when we weren't okay and ask what was wrong before we had noticed a shift (so we usually said “nothing”, but as an unsure question)...and usually 2 to 5 minutes later we'd be like “oh.” and update that we're anxious, we're slipping into flashbacks, depression had upticked. She was also the first lover who ever looked at us adoringly, with what we later learned is called ‘heart eyes’ (we got used to boredom or annoyance). They like most of our music, which we hadn't realized was important to us. She cared about our pleasure, and they would ask about our needs and if we needed anything to change. Overall, fae raised our standards for a romantic relationship, & also for a sexual one.

M then built a (mostly unintentionally) fem polycule, with other nonbinary &/or woman-ish identifying people. S (she/they) came first, but they're pretty extroverted and we're very introverted so that wasn't super compatible (M is an extrovert by a small margin). Then F (she/they/fae) came into the picture, but they didn't respect our boundaries or establish any communication for consent so we didn't get along & we didn't feel safe around fae. And then B came into the picture.

B (she/they) has purple hair and lots of tattoos. We're queer overall, but dyed hair and tattoos make people of any gender attractive. She called us cute a couple times, but held back until we began to shyly flirt back in a show of interest and consent. They called us adorable, and we chatted a lot about gender and society and drug misuse (to the point is harms the user) and deep conversations. M let on to us that B was a shy gay mess, & unlikely to make the first move.

We decided we liked B and wanted to date her too, and were willing to make the first move. We hadn’t actually practiced polyam before, but decided to attempt to be bolder and do something about the crush that was starting.

So we went into the V-Day section at a Winco and picked out some more casual items— some plushies that were also pillows. A sun pillow for M (because she says we’re a light in their life), and a baby chicken for B (because she hadn’t been flirted with in a supportive and cute way before, & we thought the idea of “picking up chicks” would be cute n silly based on what we knew they liked). We also grabbed a chocolate flower that had a rainbow wrapper because it would be gay and fun.

On that Monday (not V Day) we swung up while she was with M and S, at S’s apartment (which M purposely arranged because she thought it was adorable & sweet that we like B). We brought M her pillow, which she immediately snuggled and smiled (had been having a rough day, so very good sign). We then said “I have more” and went back to the car to bring in B’s gifts. We handed her the flower first, then pulled the pillow out of the bag we’d hidden it in. They got excited, snuggled the chick into their face, and she exclaimed excitedly “¡you got me a plushie!” She then ate the chocolate, but kept the plastic stem for nostalgia.

We then got tucked into the corner of the (L shaped) couch, because M scooted over to encourage it. We chatted for a bit, then S went for a walk to get fresh air, leaving us alone with B and M. M was snuggled into our left side.

Tentatively, I said “you can cuddle if you want” to B. She immediately scooted over to snuggle happily.

For a few minutes, we stayed like that as B scrolled their phone nervously and smiled at her screen blushing.

But then M wrapped both arms around our left leg, snuggled in, & fell asleep. B set her phone down, took her hair out of its ponytail, and settled down. They grabbed our right arm to wrap it around themself, then fell asleep holding our hand.

I stayed there, frozen and excited, for a minute or two, then breathed gender euphoria and victory. B clearly liked us back, and seeing them both asleep was adorable as heck.

S got back, which woke both B and M up, and said they were exhausted and were going to bed but that she’d put on white noise so we’d have a bit longer. S went down the hall to the bedroom.

M got up to get food for everyone, realizing it was around 8p and we hadn't eaten since lunch. M brought mac n cheese over and sat down to our right on B’s other side. B (still tucked against us) looked to M and said “your boyfriend is cute”, and barely missing a single beat I took the opportunity— “could be your boyfriend too 👉👈”. B startled upright, and we got a very excited and enthusiastic yes, which meant we were officially dating 2 people and successfully practicing polyamory.

We finally got our first date last Tuesday, after a failed attempt the week before (they felt ill and we were trying to finish the onboarding process and schedule our work orientation), which went amazing. We talked for about 6 hours in happy ADHD rambles (them unmedicated, me medicated).

About 2 weeks ago, we met A (he/him). At first we were like, “cool friend, 10/10, and has trans masc boyfriend so safe and friendly”. But we started to catch feelings. We decided to nudge him about it, letting him know (synesthesia) that our girlfriends had gold sparkles around their name, and “apparently my brain now adds sparkles around then name of people I get crushes on”, and then nudged that 3 people had sparkles. He quickly caught on, and with that consent he began openly flirting. We’re not dating yet, but we might have a boyfriend soon. We weren’t expecting (as an introvert who rarely goes to social events) to successfully build a polycule, especially this fast, but...here we are I guess, & I’m excited and hopeful for the future ☺💖.

Happy discovery story aside, ¡this is how I’m officially coming out as polyamorous! 💜 We added another LGBT+/queer flavour to our list, unintentionally 🏳️‍⚧️🏳‍🌈.

~Nico

#he/they #~Nico #queer #t4t #trans fem #M is genderfae btw #I'm boyflux #genderfae #boyflux #trans woman #trans man #polycule #polyam #polyamory #polyamourous #polyamarous #polyam relationship #polyam pride #lgbt

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cascowriteswords · 2 years

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you’ve got the wine (i’ve got all night)

A series of 3 phone calls between Clarke and Lexa - a drabble inspired by an old country song that you don’t have to listen to but if you want to it’s this one.

Clarke rummages through her purse in search of her keys, cursing herself for yet again tossing them into the black hole in the bag's main compartment instead of tucking them safely away in the front zipper where she could quickly locate them. Her fingers graze over a pocket mirror, a tube of mascara, a granola bar, and pepper spray before they finally come into contact with cool, smooth metal. Success. Shifting her weight to sling the heavy bag on her shoulder out of the way she unlocks the door to her apartment and steps inside, shutting and locking it behind her. Unceremoniously she drops her bags right there in the entryway, sighing as she flicks on the lights and slips out of her shoes.

Another work week done. She needs to remember to not keep assigning her students assignments that take 40 minutes each to grade - or to take Excedrin as a preemptive measure at the start of her day.

Maybe both.

She’s sorting through her new mail when her cell phone buzzes on the countertop of the kitchen island. Annoyance flickers through her reflexively - she’d left her grad student TA with a few tasks back on campus and she just knew she’d be getting bombarded with questions no matter how thorough her instructions were. She almost ignores the call altogether, but ultimately would rather put out the fire now than on Monday morning, so she flips the phone over and poises her finger over the slide bar to answer.

The name she sees on the Caller ID changes her mood drastically. Lexa, with her contact image popping up behind the name - a picture of her at a local winery they’d gone to 3 weeks ago on their third date. She’s wearing a big, drooping sunhat, chin resting in one of her hands while the other rests idly on a tall glass of white wine. Her hair is down and spills over her shoulders in loose waves, backdropped by the off-white fabric of her trendy jumpsuit. A pair of black sunglasses block her eyes, which is a shame, but her lips are stretched into a beaming smile, two rows of white teeth parted from when Clarke snapped the picture mid-laugh.

Lexa is more than a little beautiful. Clarke is more than a little smitten. It’s evident in the smile on her face while she stands alone in her apartment and the slight uptick in her heart rate when she answers the phone, “Hey.”

“Hey,” Lexa returns, light and breathless. Clarke glances at the clock on the stove; she’s probably just getting home from work, too. Still very early on in what they haven’t even titled a relationship yet, it’s a thrilling thing to know that she’s on Lexa’s mind. “Whatcha doing?”

“Whole lotta nothing,” Clarke answers honestly. “It was a long, long day.”

“Same here.” Clarke hears noise in the background; keys hitting the counter, a jacket rustling, shuffling papers. “You know, I’ve got this bottle of wine I’ve been saving for a while.”

Clarke smiles. Bites her bottom lip as she leans against her own counter. “Is that so?”

“Mhm. Just waiting to be opened,” Lexa tells her. Her coy smile can almost be heard through the phone. Bait, dangled.

It doesn’t take much for Clarke to bite at all. She’s been hook line and sinkered from the very first date. Spending the evening with Lexa, talking about their days over a glass of wine and helping each other unwind? It’s quite literally her idea of a perfect night.

Clarke hopes Lexa can hear her smile the same way she’d heard hers.

“You’ve got the wine - I’ve got all night. Why don’t you bring it over?”

xxxx

Lexa’s on the subway, a bag of groceries situated on her lap, her ‘Earth Day’ reusable bag crinkling as she shifts her legs around to let people scoot by in front of her. She’d no sooner boarded than she’d realized she’d forgotten to pick up coffee creamer, so she’s basically screwed for the next week unless she wants to go out shopping again…and who in their right mind would want to do that? Despite what the world seems to believe they’re still in a pandemic, and now there’s monkeypox to worry about too.

So she’ll deal with black coffee. Or pay the obnoxious fees to have it delivered if she ends up caving. But under no circumstances is she entering another grocery store until next Sunday.

It’s a physical effort not to fidget with her mask, a habit that not even 2 years of wearing one any time she leaves her home have been able to kick yet. She’s read all of the articles about how wearing masks increase the number of times people touch their faces which is counterproductive to reducing the spread of viruses but she’s feeling a little claustrophobic and overstimulated as people continue to pour onto the subway, crowding into her personal space. Essentially zero of them are wearing a mask, and every time she hears a cough she can almost visualize Covid floating through the air directly towards her.

She’s had enough of being out in the world for today. She needs a distraction, something to do with her hands, and messing with her mask isn’t a viable option. So even though she’s been trying to decrease her small-screen time after working on her medium-screen all day, she pulls out her phone.

She’s only managed to melt her brain with a few hot takes from her conservative relatives on Facebook when the screen abruptly (and mercifully) changes from a Back the Blue graphic to an incoming call.

Clarke.

Thank god.

“Hey,” she answers brightly, only letting the phone ring twice before she accepts the call.

“Hey, you.” If anyone who knows Lexa could see the stupid grin on her face they’d probably look at her like she’d grown two additional heads. She can’t help it; she really likes Clarke. Enough so that it’s quickly evolving into the next L word up from like. “Are you busy?”

“Not at all.”

“Okay cool. Well, I’m at the mall right now - I know, it’s a cesspool, but I needed new work clothes. I definitely overestimated my ability to not eat my body weight in snacks every day while working from home. But anyways, you know how I was telling you about my cousin’s wedding in a few weeks? And how I’ve been looking for an outfit for that too?”

“Of course,” Lexa answers. How could she forget - Clarke had asked her to be her plus one, and it would be her first time meeting her girlfriend’s extended family. It was kind of a big deal, to her at least.

“Well I found a dress, I think. I’m not completely sure about it though. It’s little and black…” she purposely trails off. Lexa knows exactly what she’s doing and it works effortlessly - she’s already picturing Clarke in it. Thin straps accentuating pretty shoulders, a plunging neckline showcasing the nicest tits Lexa has ever seen in her life, the cling of fabric over the swell of her hips, an open back revealing angulated scapulae that she loves to trace and run her fingers over. Her throat has gone dry by the time Clarke continues just seconds later. “I was thinking we could give it a test run tonight. If you don’t have plans? Let me take you to dinner.”

With the number of filthy thoughts running through her mind as she thirsts over the hypothetical image of Clarke in a cocktail dress, someone’s going to need to take Lexa to church, not dinner. She doesn’t say that out loud though, of course - instead she accepts the offer wholeheartedly. “That would be amazing. I’ve actually had a hectic afternoon running errands and I’m starving.”

“Perfect,” Clarke chirps. “Not that you’re starving or had a crazy day but that - you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I know,” Lexa reassures, mouth twisting into a smile. Clarke is so cute. Ridiculously, adorkably cute in a way that makes her heart do weird, treacherous things in her chest after she’d sworn off all things mushy gushy years ago. “I’ll pick you up? I just need to drop off my groceries at home and shower. How does 6:30 sound?”

“Perfect,” Clarke says again. “Can’t wait. See you soon, babe.”

“See you soon.”

Lexa’s actually thankful for the mask, now, because it prevents the general public from seeing her smiling like an idiot on the subway.

xxxx

Clarke’s going to die. She’s going to die, she’s going to die, she’s going to die -

“Fuck, fuck, fuck don’t stop.”

She’s going to die if Lexa stops.

She doesn’t, though, bless her. But also fuck her, because she’s been edging Clarke for the last 30 minutes to the point that she’s a sweaty, quivering, twitching mess. Her legs jump involuntarily every time Lexa drags her tongue over her clit, which is straining and swollen and bordering on nearly painfully overstimulated.

But Lexa knows the fine line she’s walking and handles Clarke with care, finally letting her climax build before she loses her mind entirely. Slips into her with two fingers easily to redistribute the sensation and begins a gentle pattern of flexing and thrusting, falling into rhythm with desperately rolling hips. Softens her tongue and draws serpentines over and around an aching clit, down to her entrance, back up again. Drawing her up, up, up. Purposefully wraps her lips around the little bundle of nerves and sucks with just the right amount of pressure, and preemptively grabs onto Clarke’s hips with both hands just before she nearly skyrockets off the bed, back arching like she’s being exorcised as her orgasm rips through her.

And Clarke does feel like she’s about to meet god, lights flashing in her vision while white-hot pleasure courses through every single one of her nerve endings head to toe. After an indeterminable amount of time her body slumps back down on the bed, limp and boneless, but it’s several more minutes before she’s able to get her wits back about her. When she finally opens her eyes and finds the energy to shift and lift her head, she looks down to see still Lexa lounging between her legs, a pleased little smirk on her lips as she rests her head against a sweat-damp thigh.

Clarke doesn’t even have it in her to tell her to get that look off her face. There’s no playing it coy after how hard and long she just came. “I think I blacked out.”

Lexa laughs breathily and hums, still smiling and pleased with herself. “Do you feel relaxed?”

That’s why Clarke is here at Lexa’s in the first place - relaxation. She’d called Lexa when she got out of work, complaining about another long day and how wound up and tense she felt after a staff meeting in which she’d had to argue for 40 minutes about why her department’s budget shouldn’t be cut essentially in half.

“Why don’t you come over?” Lexa had offered immediately. “Kick off your shoes, let me rub your shoulders. Come on, what are you waiting for?”

Clarke accepted the offer, of course; a no-brainer. Lexa made her dinner and let her drink glasses of expensive, indulgent red wine while she listened to Clarke vent and rant about the situation at the university. Clarke felt better by the time they’d finished eating and, feeling a little sheepish about how much she’d talked and that Lexa basically hadn’t been able to get a word in edgewise, had tried to decline when Lexa wanted to move onto the next phase of her agenda, the shoulder rub.

But Lexa had insisted. “No, shh. Let me do this for you. I want to take care of you. Let me make you forget all about your bad day.” And honestly, Clarke’s shoulders were really tight.

That was hours ago. The shoulder rub had gone exactly how they both knew it would.

Not that Clarke’s complaining now. The opposite, if anything.

“Extremely relaxed,” she answers, practically purring. “I feel like I briefly transcended to a higher plane.”

Lexa laughs. “Well, I’m not quite done with you yet, so let me know when you’re back in this dimension with me.”

“No no no.” Clarke finally finds it within herself to hoist herself up onto her elbows so she’s actually talking to Lexa instead of to Lexa’s ceiling. “No way, I’ll literally die. I can’t. I can still barely feel my legs.”

Lexa assumes The Pout™, lips flushed a pretty shade of pink and still glistening, but Clarke doesn’t give in. She crooks her finger at Lexa, beckoning her up towards the head of the bed and out from between her legs. After a dramatic sigh and some wistful, forlorn glancing Lexa obliges and lets Clarke hold her against her chest, tucking the blankets around them.

“Thank you. I really, really needed this.”

“Your pleasure is my pleasure.”

“That kinda makes me sound like a pillow princess.”

“If the shoe fits…”

Clarke rolls her eyes, well aware that Lexa is just teasing her. She’s very into teasing, in more way than one.

“Go to sleep, Lexa.”

“Only if you promise to still be here when I wake up.”

“Of course I will be. It’s your turn in the morning, once I’ve had 8 hours to recover and regained use of my limbs.”

“Mmm,” Lexa hums, snuggling up closer to Clarke, tangling their feet together. “In that case, sweet dreams.”

“Sweet dreams,” Clarke agrees.

She falls asleep holding the woman of her dreams in her arms. If her dreams can get any sweeter than her reality she’ll be impressed.

xxxx

#clexa #clexa drabbles

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cr3v · 2 years

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hi hello! What about Dick using Slade as his acrobatic block? He knows Slade won't do anything to him. He doesn't dwell on why. he just enjoys annoying him (and maybe just maybe being able to touch him).

hello there :D!!

i love that and had to write a little something 🥺.

Dick's happy with this turn of events, if anything. He gets to have Slade in a rigid kneel, perform his warm-ups, his turns and pikes, on his back.

And the act of getting him in position itself is a ritual.

His fingers gently flit through Slade's snow-white hair, a playful tug once in a while, gently sliding them down the hard ridges of his face, the dip of his neck, down his back and away. Then up his ankles, calves, with murmured instructions guiding Slade where he wants. Usually, his journey above the knee gets cut short by a mild grunt of annoyance so he doesn't indulge in that too often. He's happy with whatever he gets, really.

And Slade, he indulges the little bird for some weird reason. His little bluebird of happiness, he thinks, in the rare moments of silence he gets late at night, nursing something strong over Dick's sleeping city, spread beneath him.

Grayson, being annoyingly tactile, has since graduated from sparring once in a blue moon to establishing some kind of regimen of exercise involving him on a semi-weekly basis. If his movements leaping across buildings have left him just a little dizzy, well, Grayson's going to be none the wiser.

Today, Grayson has him in another strict kneel, his hands rougher than usual, fingers lingering longer here and there, like he needs to feel him there, like some exercise in establishing object permanence.

Slade understands, there are many days when Dick's brushes with danger have him following the little bird across the 'Blud, aware that Dick can feel his eyes on him, wanting him to.

Dick's using him like some inanimate object. Which he's kind of intrigued by, if the blood pooling south is any indication. But it's not about him.

Dick flips him over on his back and straddles him, fringe falling forward, obscuring whatever he's feeling. The uptick in his heartbeat's the only warning Slade gets before he's got a very agitated bird crowding into his space and locking lips in a desperate kiss.

#sladick #cr3v tries to write

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goldlightsaber · 3 months

Text

i think the cultural phenomenon of taylor swift’s fame being at its peak and the people who don’t give a shit finally losing their patience with it is so interesting. it’s the perfect storm: a huge surge of content about her after the grammy’s + album announcement + the travis kelce relationship, compounded by existing annoyance, dislike, and/or indifference toward her, resulting in a huge uptick in (sometimes quite justifiable) criticism of her.

this is what happens imo when an artist with lot of privilege gets more credit (and money and fame) than they are due — especially when they prove themselves to be out of touch again and again.

so on the superficial level, it’s petty annoyance, but beyond that it’s the frustrations of inequality, a pushback against privilege and the overvaluing of an artist’s lukewarm, unchallenging ballads. the world is steeped in much deeper shit than taylor swift has ever had to venture into. it’s this feeling of — for that work, she gets all this? she hasn’t earned this.

also, although she had a favorable run once she started to get more political, that favor with the people is expiring because it is offset by her vast and growing empire. not to mention her politics have been kind of…safe and tame, much like her work.

i typically don’t like to rain on anyone’s parade. aka i don’t wanna act pretentious toward her fans for liking her or her music because there is frankly nothing i hate more than people on tumblr or elsewhere acting uppity about a popular show/artist/movie/ship because it’s popular (even if it is kinda bad) and making passive aggressive dunks on said person/show/fandom etc…lord knows i’ve loves something earnestly and had people (some of them “friends”! lol) rain on my parade….so i don’t detest anyone’s earnest love for her, it’s fine. i don’t think unproblematic celebs really exist. but i do detest the way i can’t avoid her because of how much i vehemently disagree about her alleged genius. and also because i just…don’t care. about her new album. i don��t care! i also don’t see her as a conduit for my frustrations as a feminist, or feel like i can relate to her the way some fans do. imagine everyone flooding your timeline about bread toasted on the lowest rung every day. it’s like that

#text #idk how to tag this in a way where ppl who don’t wanna see don’t see it #lol #anti t swift? but then im not like. ANTI nor do i hate her #anyway

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modern-vellichor · 2 years

Text

Tiring

summary: you and Frank get along better than expected. warnings: blood, murder, fluff. a/n: do i feel bad about pumping out nothing but punisher content? yes. can you help with this problem? Yes!! by sending me all your requests bc you love me <3

"The nearest place is Y/N's," Karen nearly screamed.

Matt nodded. The two of them struggled to pick Frank up and drag him through the streets of New York. You had given Karen a spare key to your place a few months ago. They snuck Frank into the elevator and hit the button for the top floor.

You stirred when you heard your front door opening. You reached for your gun, but curled back under the covers when you heard Karen's voice. If it was important she would wake you. You heard Matt's voice too. You heard panicked hands opening all your cupboards, looking for something. Then you heard a third voice. An eerily similar voice. A deep timbre that sent a bone-shaking fear through your body. You crept out of bed. Your bare feet carried you through your apartment.

"What are you doing here?" Your voice shook with fear.

Frank turned around to face you. He knew you. The pained frown on his face turned to one of fury. Karen watched, half stunned, full of curiosity. Matt listened, this was not going to end well.

"How did you find me?" You began to slowly back away from him.

"Oh, sweetheart," he chuckled menacingly. "You fell right into my lap."

He lunged for you. You screamed. Karen shouted Frank's name, begged him to stop, but Frank had his mind made up. He should have killed you a long time ago. Frank thought someone else had gotten to you, but no. You had been hiding in plain sight this whole time. You pulled a knife out of the block and plunged it into Frank's hand, effectively pinning him to the table. You made for the window.

Frank screamed after you, hurling violent threats your way. But you had the window open and were throwing yourself onto the fire escape, and then disappearing from sight.

"What the fuck?" Karen sighed.

Frank offered no explanation and so the pair dropped it. Matt and Karen played nurse for Frank, and then he passed out of your couch. While he slept soundly, Karen played janitor and Matt stood on the fire escape and listened for you. Your screams were sudden. Matt rushed inside. Karen was on edge and Frank was awake, already reaching for his gun. Matt wasn't the only one who heard it. You weren't screaming out of fear or distress, no, it was anger and annoyance.

"Get the fuck off of me, asshole," your footsteps continued up the stairs. You were nearly at the second floor.

"There's a man," Matt said. "he's following her, maybe three steps behind her, she won't let him get any closer." He paused, cocking his head. "There's another man, watching, waiting, he's below them on the stairwell. She can't see him."

Nobody moved. They heard someone stumble backwards, then an entitled scoff. Matt announced that you were climbing the last set of stairs. Your voice was clear as day now.

"I don't know a Frank Castle, sorry, bud," you drawled, fishing for your keys.

"Really?" The man asked.

"Yep, I don't know any Castles. I sure as shit don't know who you were talking about."

Matt listened to your heartbeat. It was normal, beating constantly. No upticks.

"She's not lying," he mumbled.

"Yes she is. She's just a damn good liar," Frank scoffed.

Frank inched closer to the front door as your footsteps grew closer. And then there was a bang. It all happened so quickly, no one had time to react. A gun shot, a scream, a thud. And then your hurled yourself through the front door and screamed at Frank.

"Gun!"

Frank tossed his gun at you. As soon as your finger touched the trigger, you pulled. Once, twice, third times a charm. The man fell bad, bleeding out in your corridor. A few seconds later, the other man appeared. You shot him, too. You tossed the gun back to Frank, shaking like a scared puppy.

"Karen, go sit in my room. Take Matt."

She guided Matt through the house and shut the door behind her. You and Frank wordlessly worked together, dragging bodies into the apartment. Together you sawed, then you separated. He bagged bits of bodies and you scrubbed the hall until the stains had disappeared. Together you disposed, scattering limbs all over New York and the surrounding states. Together you collapsed on the couch. Matt and Karen were already asleep in your bed. You fell asleep on Frank's shoulder.

Frank wasn't sure what changed. He never really wanted to kill you. Maybe you didn't really deserve it. Granted, you pissed him the fuck off, but he can't remember why he wanted to kill you in the first place.

He lay back, taking you with him. He situated you on his chest, not once did you stir. He pulled the throw blanket off the back of the couch and covered you both. He fell asleep with your legs tangled together.

The sun woke Karen the next morning. She woke Matt and together they crept back into the kitchen. Karen couldn't hide the smile on her face when her eyes fell on the scene before her.

"They're cuddling," she whispered to Matt.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"I guess covering up a murder must be pretty tiring," she laughed.

"Yeah," he scoffed. "Tiring."

#frank castle angst #frank castle blurb #frank castle x female reader #frank castle imagine #frank castle #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle fic #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle fluff #punisher imagine #punisher x you #the punisher fluff #punisher x reader

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fabricated-misslieness · 3 years

Text

pairing: childe x winged adeptus male reader

wc: 3.52k | cw: slightly suggestive beginning, near death experience

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 (you are here)

a/n: anyway, that one line about the traveler is meant to be a joke poking fun at how unrealistic genshin is (which is okay cause it’s a game) this is actually the second longest thing i've ever written.

“I’m scared of opening up again,

Drip, drip, drip. There’s a leaky faucet somewhere around here. Wherever it is, Childe’s trying to focus on something else. Though he might just start looking for it, whether out of boredom or sheer annoyance.

It was like the ticking of a clock. Tick tock, drip drip. In such a silent place, the constant drip of water was bothering him.

The last person I loved was my mother, and she’s gone,

In this silence and dripping of water, Childe’s glad that something breaks the consistency. An object, mayhaps a creature, rising out of the water and causing quite the uptick of noise was pleasant to his ears.

What was he thinking about again?

I just wish there was someone there for me,

He hears shaking, followed by more drips of water, though their irregularity soothes him. It’s something he can tune out after sharing a house with lots of siblings for so long.

Right. He was thinking about you. The days that followed that night weren’t as eventful, but he cherished them nonetheless. Date after date –or at least he deemed them to be dates, he wasn’t sure if a shut-in adeptus like you knew what a date was– each was as nice, if not nicer, than the last. He’s beginning– no, he already likes you, it’s quite clear to him. He’s continuing to fall farther and farther into the pit that is his crush on you.

Childe, look, I told you I’m no God of Love.”

He hears something else, a loud flap of wings, followed by more shaking. It startles him out of his thoughts. When he looks up, he sees your bare back. If he wasn’t already startled, that would have made him jump.

He spots that little, less abundant patch of feathers around your scar, even as you shake the water off your wings.

Then, he finds more scars, almost unnoticeable ones that crawl down your back. He wonders what their stories are, and when you got them. You’re something like three thousand years old, so he’s curious about what caused them. Have hilichurls always been around?

Then his gaze trails down, down and- oh. “Are you-?” (naked)

You turn to him, a bit confused as well as a bit startled, “No.”

Childe suddenly feels cold. He glances down at himself –he wears nothing but a towel around his waist– then at his surroundings. Right, you’re at a bathhouse, private room of course. Even so, it was quite big.

“Why aren’t you in the bath yet? I thought you said mortals were fond of this.”

He awkwardly eases himself into the bath, which provides a nice heat to his skin. “We are, I’m just.. distracted.”

“Why’s that?” Much to his terror and contentment, you wade your way through the water towards him. “I don’t imagine there’s much to be distracted by here.”

You’re right, at least in the physical sense. The mind has many wonders, so many people can get lost in them, and he’s no exception. “There’s plenty of things to be distracted by.” At what, he doesn’t elaborate on, nor does he intend to.

You huff out a laugh, to which he quirks his head. “What is it?” He asks.

“I Imagine I know what you’re distracted by.”

His mind wonders again, and he finds a plausible reason why you said that. His face immediately lights up a soft pink, to a hotter pink, and then settles on red. He wasn’t thinking of that, er- maybe he would be if he hadn’t asked if you were completely bare. “I wasn’t-”

You nod, at what, he doesn’t know. Dismissively, in doubt, in agreement; he doesn’t have time to think because you speak up again.

“Where to next, then? You did say this was the last place at Liyue Harbor you wanted to show me.” Your gaze is up to the ceiling, head leaning against a wall. Childe admires your side profile and the far-away look on your face.

“Actually, I was wondering if you could show me around somewhere.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Where?”

“Jueyun Karst, of course. I know much of the harbor, you must know much of the mountains. Home of the Adepti, wasn’t it?” It used to feel like home, now… not so much.

You nod your head side to side, weighing your options and silently saying ‘more or less’, “I suppose I do.”

You turn to him, catching his observative gaze. He diverts his eyes, hoping you didn’t notice him admiring you. “It’d be quite the trip, though. You’d probably be tired by the time we make it there, and there’s no beds available. We don’t-”

“How about you carry me and we can fly there?”

He regretted even saying that.

“AAAH”

“You suggested this.” You remind him. He doesn’t- he does know why you’re so calm. He just can’t think rationally right now. “Calm down, please? It’s going to be a while until we arrive at Jueyun Karst.”

Earlier, he’d soothed himself by comparing flying to using a glider, like the one he got from Mondstadt and carried around ever since. “This will be fun,” He told himself, “it’s just like gliding! The air rushes past your ears, you feel like you’re going a million miles a second, it’s fun!”

Apart from the fact you can’t quite control whether you go up or down while gliding, it’s also much slower. You, however, are going really, really fast and you’re also able to go up and stay within the same altitude, which by the way is quite high.

Childe fights looking down but his body gets the best of him.

“Don’t look down.” You cup his cheek and make him stare back up at you, though you stare ahead.

All at once he’s reminded of how you carry him.

“Okay, you feel secure?”

His arms are wrapped around your neck and his legs around your waist. Childe blushes, “Yeah.” Not to mention your hands and their steady grip around his waist, archons he hoped this trip was both long and short at the same time.

“Hold on tight.”

Even with one of your hands off his waist, he feels secure in your grip. It’s only the fact that you’re traveling so far that’s unsettling.

Although, with your hand cupping his cheek, his nerves began to calm down.

You were surprised he even entrusted you with this, keeping him in your hold for so long and all that. You suppose it could be a trust, another capability of the heart, but you could see it another way. A means to an end, you could say. It was certainly much less time consuming and stamina draining –for him– than walking all the way to the mountains just a few days after walking that same path the other way around.

Childe looks at you, focuses on you, instead of the rushing air ruffling his hair and the underlying feeling of anxiety. There’s not much to look at, what with your head facing forward, but the bottom of your chin. There’s a couple scars littered here and there, and in his lovestricken gaze, he notices they vaguely form a heart. “These scars down here form a heart.”

“Do they really?”

“Mhm.” He hums in affirmation.

“Never knew that.”

This feels… awkward. He thought you were really opening up to him after that night, as well as those longer conversations you had on lighter subjects afterwards. He enjoyed teaching you activities, mortal tendencies, and Liyue culture –as best he could teach, after all, he wasn’t a native.

Though, maybe you were, and maybe he was just overthinking things. You were focusing on flying, that’s all.

He sure hopes his intuition is right.

“It might be difficult to adjust to land.” You surmise. You really didn’t remember, since you were used to both land and air. “We should rest for a minute or two.”

“Yeah.” Childe agrees. His legs feel like jelly. He prides himself in being strong, so he hasn’t felt this feeling much, if at all. He didn’t like being vulnerable, he despised it, even just the thought of it.

“Hey.” You stretch out a hand, silently offering it for him to hold and steady himself.

Perhaps... it was fine to be vulnerable with you.

He takes it, and for the second time today, diverts his eyes from you. A warm, soft blush settles over his cheeks. You never offered your hand to him, he did; quite cockily, at that. It hasn’t ever been the other way ‘round.

“Hm?” The blush on his face brightens as he anticipates your next question, “Are you alright?” Would a rushing cold of the brisk air cause a… cold? You knew far too little about these illnesses that mortals tended to fall into.

“I’m fine.” He waves you off dismissively, but after realizing he used the hand you were holding, he quickly grasps yours again.

Your low laughter at his small mixup causes him to feel a little embarrassed, more so than asking that wellness question in the first place.

“So..” Childe glances down the cliff you’d landed by. “Where’d you want to take me?”

“To tell the truth, I didn’t land where I wanted to show you because I was getting a bit tired.” Guilt hangs in the back of Childe’s mind. Surely you would’ve had that energy if you hadn’t carried him, though on the other hand, he wouldn’t have any stamina left if you walked all the way here. “It’s, uh,” You clear your throat awkwardly, “Up there.”

His eyes follow where you're pointing, which is up; up at Qingyun Peak. “Up… there?” He gawks, mouth open far enough to the point he could eat flies on accident.

You rub the back of your neck, “Yes.”

To your surprise, Childe smiles, “It’s a challenge, alright. Not a type I’m used to, but one I will take. Let’s go!”

He kicks his feet against the ground to give himself a little momentum –though he did so mostly from excitement– and begins to run towards the nearest slope of the mountain. Due to his tight grip of your arm, he drags you along with him. This excitement is cute, you’ll admit, but he seems to have forgotten what you’d just told him about your state of energy.

“Hmm,” He hums as he examines crooks and crannies that could hold his feet and hands. Once he finds a route he thinks is good enough until he can examine the footholds further above, he gives you an apologetic smile and begins to climb.

About half-way there, you call out to him, “Don’t you think you need some rest?”

“Not at all, love,” The adrenaline and giddiness running through his veins makes him forget his… filter, you could say. He had been yearning to call you some kind of pet name throughout your trip in Liyue, “I’m well rested and- oh, you did say you weren’t.” He stops in his tracks.

You shake your head, “No, it’s fine. Climbing is less taxing than flying.” You say, though it’s sort of a half-truth.

Childe nods and, disregarding his concern, continues to climb. In almost no time, you’ve climbed beside him as he begins to examine the wall of rock in front of him, in search of appropriate footholds. He takes notice of how your right hand isn’t holding onto anything, subtly showing off your strength, and he tries not to let it get to him. Otherwise, well, he would probably challenge you to a spar whenever you made it to your destination, whether it’s at the very top of the peak or not.

He looks back up at the slope, fighting his urge to not look at you. He notices, again, that you stay by his side. “Why are you still here?”

“Hm?”

“Next to me.”

“Oh, I don’t want you to lag behind.” Oh, you little shit.

“I’m not- I won’t lag behind.” Childe huffs. Taking the reckless decision of not planning out a thorough approach before climbing out of spite.

He’s quite irritated when you don’t take his words seriously, too, which he can tell because he hears your –because of how far you are from him– tiny laugh. “You better take that into account!”

“I will-” You chuckle again, “I am.”

“Ha! I made it before you!” The next ledge, which provides a space for rest, is rather spacious. Childe feels his eye twitch in annoyance when he discovers that you could’ve walked here, as there was a path and the slope nearby was gradual enough.

“What is it?” You ask when you arrive where he stands. Once following his gaze, you laugh once again, though this time much, much louder. “So you realized?”

“Shut up.” He turns back to the next –consequently turning back on you– wall with a huff. “Is there… another path, perhaps?”

“Well, that path you spied just leads to a higher plane than where we currently are.”

Childe mutters curses under his breath. After his small fit, he begrudgingly takes your hand. “Let’s go then. Don’t you dare make any comments on this.”

He waits for your affirmation, but you don’t give any. “(y/n).”

“What? Oh,” You choke back a laugh at his expectant gaze, “okay, I promise I won’t.”

Satisfied with your answer, he nods and begins to walk. The path is decorated and, judging by the lack of wear compared to much older artifacts he’s encountered on his journeys, it’s surely because of pilgrims.

“You do have a glider, right?” You call up to him.

“Yep!” He shouts back. “Why do you ask?”

“The only thing I can say, if you want to be surprised, is that you’re gonna need it once we reach the peak.” So you were reaching the ‘tippy top’. Childe wasn’t very afraid of heights, but the thought of them and the probabilities was certainly frightening. Worst case scenario, it’s enough to make him fall. At least he has a glider to trust in, if the worst case comes true.

He basks in the shade of the trees and the beauty of the flowers, though he can’t do so for long. The path, after all, is quite short because he’s already climbed past most of it.

“Whose dwelling is this?” Childe asks, eyes set upon the seal on it.

“Moon Carver’s.” You reply. “The other adepti have all set up seals. I thought the cave was ominous enough, so I didn’t place a seal on mine. I would say I regret it but,” You give him a smile, “I don’t.”

Your words bring a small blush to the tips of his ears and the beginnings of his neck, “I’m glad you didn’t.”

He then turns to the nearest wall, “Race you to the top?” He smiles cheekily. You raise an eyebrow at him, which makes him glance at your wings. “Right, right. No flying.”

Once you agree, you begin to climb. This next slope is rather short, since it leads to a smaller resting ledge. However, glancing up, he sees the longer climb up a stone mound that shot straight up. Childe takes a deep breath and rubs his hands together, psyching himself up.

He remembers this saying the traveler told him, “I can climb anywhere.” He assumed there was something else to it that his heart had to autofill from its own desires, something inspirational. ‘with enough determination.’ That sounds right.

He begins to climb again, finding adequate foothold after foothold. He glances down at you and smirks, “Guess who’s winning?”

“You?” You reply. Right, you’re not familiar with most mortal expressions. He laughs, to which you quirk your head at, “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, nothing.” He turns back to the mound, determined on climbing and making it to the top of this peak before you.

He’s confident now that he’s near the top. If it weren’t for the fact that Childe’s used to such confidence, which he makes use of every time he fights, he would’ve been blindsided by it. With both his feet on the top of the mound, and his hand a little scratched, he smiles, “Victory is-”

The ground under his feet begins to… crack. Childe just barely hears the sound before he’s sweeped off the ground. It almost seems like the universe spites him.

The world feels like it’s in slow motion, but the scenery and his surroundings are a blur. He can’t see anything, but he can just about make out your figure.

This isn’t the way he’s going to go. “(y/n)!”

The more he focuses on you, the more features of yours he can make out. First come your eyes, they’re blown wide. Then your nose and your mouth, your lips, they’re open in shock. After that, your eyebrows raised high. All in all, he notices the fear on your face.

Finally, come your wings. They seem to be the only thing that moves. They come from furled to splayed out within seconds of him noticing them.

That’s right. You’re here for him. He trusts you. He trusts that you’re there to help him, to save him.

All at once, the world comes back into motion. Before he can even think, before he can even feel that anxiety-inducing feeling that is falling, he’s in your arms and your grasp and your safety.

His heart beats rapidly in his chest, no doubt yours does too. It’s a rhythmic, steady and loud beat, almost deafening. Just like earlier, the drip of a faucet and the tick tock of a clock, those sounds are far too uniform for him.

He feels the urge to speak up and break this suffering consistency, but knowing that he probably scared the living hell out of you, he stays silent and lets you regain your thoughts.

You fly to the place you wanted to show him, which to Childe’s surprise is not the peak, but a mysterious floating island right above it. It reminds him of the magnificence of the jade chamber.

“I-” You pause to actually breathe. “This was the place. It’s a floating island constructed by the ‘genius’ of Cloud Retainer. God, Childe- you had a glider, didn’t you?”

“Oh.” He nods, “That’s right- I’m sorry.”

You take a deep breath and take another second to regain yourself. Childe sees this and takes your hand, squeezing and letting go on and on in order to reassure you that he’s here, with you. “It’s… it’s okay. You trusted me to catch you.”

Trust, yet another capability of the heart.

The sun is beginning to set. The both of you turn towards it, Childe does so to admire it, and you do to ground yourself. If there was a thing you did almost every day of your life, including the time you were with Guizhong, it was to watch the sun and admire it.

“What are you doing, little dove?”

You found comfort in the oranges, yellows and reds. You found comfort in the warmth of their colors and the warmth of the hug that Guizhong used to give you every time.

“Admiring the sun.”

You enjoyed its magentas and pinks that faded into warmer colors. You enjoyed the cold that came after them, reminding you of the cycle; a daily cycle you would live by for the next thousands of years.

“You do this every single day. You know what? I’ll admire it with you. Maybe then I will discover what you see in the sun.”

“Do you remember our contract, Childe?” You speak up.

Childe sputters about for an answer, as you’d caught him off guard. He clears his throat, “Y-Yeah, indeed I do.”

“There were three feelings I deemed to be crucial to the heart, therefore, I found three capabilities of the heart. You’ve accomplished two of them without my guidance. The third-” Childe cups your cheek. The feeling of it, as well as that intense look in his eyes that he can still convey through half-closed lids, makes you pause in your speech.

He already seems to know which feeling you’re talking about.

He pulls you into a kiss, soft and tender and everything he’d hoped it was. It felt like fireworks were going off, on the skin of your cheek and all around him- it was exhilarating. What’s more, he knew the culprit. Your reciprocating lips.

Love, a word without one true meaning, a feeling you fall into, a feeling hard to rise from. The last capability of the heart to fulfill this contract.

When Childe pulls back, there’s a small, content smile on his face. “Was that it?”

You nod, “That was it.” You remember what Guizhong’s last words for you were now. Her last dying breath, with it she speaks, “Don’t let my death stray you from love.”

For the longest time, you’d forsaken her words, even forgotten them. But Childe… he helped you remember, and he helped you love again.

You muster up enough courage to speak the next words, “If I may trouble you… can I have more? More kisses, that is.”

“Of course. They’re on unlimited supply, just for you.”

#childe x reader #childe x male reader #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x male reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x male reader #🌸 // success!#🎫 // childe #🎫 // tartaglia #🎟 // genshin impact

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moonlitdesertdreams · 3 years

Text

The Favorite

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x F!Reader

Summary: Who better to call the grumpy boss about a lead than his favorite BAU agent?

Tags: Hotch x OC, Criminal Minds Imagine, Aaron Hotchner x reader, hotch x reader, derek morgan being a dork, inter-office relationships

WARNINGS: Derek Morgan being a fool

Word Count: 911

The BAU’s newest case was dragging- one of the longest on file.

They had been stationed in Oklahoma City for almost a full week and a half, and had gotten fairly used to the sights and sounds of the local police department. A whole conference room had been given to them to set up, but all parties involved were getting twitchy.

“Y/N.”

The woman sitting on the end looked up at the sound of her first name, eyes settling on none other than Derek Morgan. Much to Y/N’s annoyance, he was staring her down from his end of the oblong table. Reid and JJ were watching her with amusement in their gazes, as well as a pair of local detectives they had been working with all week.

“Morgan.” She replied, sitting up a little straighter and lowering the file in her hands. She glanced at her watch. “Did I drop off?”

“Looked that way.” He ran a hand over his head, waving a file with the others. “We got a possible connection. Two of the victims were at the same supermarket at the same time, same day.”

“He might be hunting there.” Y/N nodded. “Did you call Hotch?”

A nervous air settled on all the occupants, and Y/N raised a brow. “I’ll take that as a no?”

“No offense, but your boss was a bit of a hard ass this morning.” Martin, a stout man with cropped black hair and a pudgy face, said to the group. “None of them wanted to call either.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes at Morgan. “Seriously?”

“He is nicer to you.” Reid vouched for Derek, and JJ nodded in agreement.

“You seriously don’t wanna-” Y/N cut herself off with a sigh. “Let me get my phone.”

She stood from the table and walked out of the conference room, a flurry of blonde curls and red blouse.

“You guys sure do have a funny way of communicating.” Martin commented, coaxing a chuckle out of the group. “Making the newbie talk to the boss, eh?”

“Oh no,” Morgan laughed, caging his fingers behind his head. “She’s the favorite.”

“There’s a reason you’re not.” Y/N’s voice rang in their ears as she reentered the room, phone in hand. She tapped on the screen, holding the phone up as it rang on speaker.

“Yeah, cause I’m not a sweet blonde-”

“Hotchner.”

Y/N’s face shifted, upticking with her voice. “Hey, it’s me. I got a connection between victims, you got a second?”

“Yes. Hold on, I’m putting you on speaker with Dave.” A faint click echoed over the line. “Go ahead.”

Y/N rattled off the details, and listened as Hotch dolled out assignments to the team.

“I’m going to have you come with me to interview the most recent victim’s family. I’ll be back at the station in five.”

Morgan waggled his eyebrows and sent a smirk in Y/N’s direction.

“You got it, boss.”

Y/N slapped her phone down on the table, glaring at her three teammates who were in the room. “Y’all are insufferable.”

“You know, I think Morgan’s right on this one.” JJ said. “That was much more pleasant than this morning.”

Y/N tapped her nails on the table, looking from JJ to Reid and back to Morgan. “So you’re all afraid to talk to Hotch now?”

Reid gave a half-shrug. “Not afraid to talk, more like… hesitant to interrupt.”

“We’re stressed about this case and have been staying up late, I think we all need to take a breath.”

While Y/N and Hotch had been ‘together’ for a while, it still wasn’t something they had officially brought up to the team, nor did they want to. They did a good job of keeping body language under control, but Aaron Hotchner was indeed soft underneath the front he put up, and some of the affection leaked out in his actions.

Keeping anything secret from a team of profilers was difficult, and Y/N knew she wasn’t perfect either. There were no outright displays of affection, but Hotch’s less-stingy side seemed to display a lot more when she was around, and it did not go unnoticed by the team. Though none of them were aware, who were they to judge if they were?

Two consensual adults having casual sex and making out more than a few times was none of their business.

Even if the other adult was her boss.

“You might be staying up late.” Morgan stated with a languid stretch, after a long pause. “I get my full eight hours whenever I can.”

Y/N rolled her eyes as she shuffled the folders before her into a pile. “That’s good to hear, Morgan, you need the beauty sleep.”

“Come on, Y/L/N. You know you’d get a piece if you could.” He teased.

JJ laughed. “Do you two ever stop?”

“I’m not known for my tendency to give up.” Y/N replied, sending a smile to the other blonde. Spencer watched with a bemused look, busying himself with more maps and photographs.

Hotchner and Rossi chose that moment to barge in, drawing the attention of all four BAU members and local detectives. Hotch cast a side eye to Morgan and Y/N, explaining with no words his disapproval of their conversation at work. Both men settled, Rossi between Morgan and JJ and Hotch between Reid and Y/N.

“Tell me about this supermarket angle.”

Criminal Minds Masterlist || Send me ideas

#Hotch x OC #Criminal Minds Imagine #Aaron Hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #derek morgan being a dork #inter-office relationships #Y/N has had enough of derek morgan

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thran-duils · 3 years

Text

From All Sides (P.6)

Title: From All Sides (Part Six) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark!Pirate Tony. Tony is obsessed with a certain barmaid at port and showers her with gifts to try to bring her to his bed. She is resistant to his advances, her eyes elsewhere, specifically on her coworker, the cook. Although, that love is unrequited and always will be. The reader is forced into close quarters with Tony unexpectedly and sailing the sea, she slowly bends to his will. And he plans to give her all the affection he can to make sure she stays. Words: 2,280 Warnings (for the whole fic): Eventual smut, violence, angst, possessive behavior

Part Five || Part Seven || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

“Where the hell is she?” Tony practically shouted.

They had made rounds around the inside of the cavern for the last fifteen minutes, looking in game rooms and cabins where she might be. Tony had ignored everything Steve was saying up until that point, on a rampage to find her. Much to Steve’s annoyance because he had an idea where she might be and even more so, annoying that Tony himself had left Y/N on the beach and was now mad she had wandered off. He had just wanted to drink and sit on the ship.

Grasping the opportunity of Tony standing still, Steve stepped into his sights.

“I’m sure she’s fine. Vanko said a dark-haired ‘boy’. It was probably Peter!” Steve blurted.

“Peter?” Tony demanded.

Steve saw the jealousy already swimming and he said, “Yeah. Who else would come swooping in to rescue her to make sure that no one took advantage of her? He knows she’s with you and he doesn’t want to piss his captain off. He did it for you! She’s probably with him!”

“Where’s his cabin?” Tony said.

<><><>

Peter walked with you down the sandy path. “And he just… left you down here? By yourself?” You nodded and Peter frowned.

“You don’t judge me?” you asked. He shook his head and a sad smile reached you. “I know many are not followers of religion here – myself included – but it seems the mere idea of… being with a woman would cause scorn. Casting me out.”

You had already spilled everything to Tony and telling someone else you felt close to felt now like nothing. You had held it inside for so long. And for how Tony reacted, you thought yourself perhaps wicked for how you had acted and you wanted to be clean with everyone. Peter was reacting far differently than Tony though. And that was not entirely shocking; Peter was not pining after you. He was objective.

Peter shrugged and said, “It does not bother me in the slightest. Eloise was nice.”

Nice. As if that was the only thing that mattered. Nothing else. It was so simple when he put it like that.

“Yes… she was.”

“Is,” Peter corrected, giving you a bump with his shoulder for reassurance.

“Right. Is.”

Peter asked, “Do you really want to go back to our home port? To see if she is still there? I mean… you said yourself that you did not think she would ever return the feelings. So… do you think it would be worth it? To go back to settle for that?”

You sighed heavily. You could read the undertone of his words. You had someone here that actually returned your feelings.

But then he cut you off at the knees of that thought about Tony.

“I mean, going back to port makes sense if you are looking to find Adam.”

Turning your head towards him, you met his gaze. And you could see he could see the remorse in your eyes.

His shoulders slumped and he asked, “Did you… were you never considering him?”

Reluctantly, you admitted, some tears coming, “I didn’t know how to let him down easily. He was so kind. I would feel guilty doing it, but I still felt guilty not doing it.”

“May I have your problem some day of having multiple people after me,” Peter said. Your face fell and he quickly said, “I did not mean for that to come off as crass. I can see it was hard. I was… just trying to make light. It was not the time. Sorry.”

The two of you walked in silence for a while. The waves lapped at the shore, coming close to your own feet. The sand was wet, and it felt good beneath your bare feet, your shoes held in your hand. The moonlight was reflecting off the sea, lighting the beach. You could stay here… truly. Just build a house up further in the rocks and always have the sea to look out at.

Peter was still quiet, waiting for you to initiate again. You cleared your throat.

“No. I know. I had multiple people. Some dropped off after a month or so, but they kept coming. Tony was constant. And… I knew. I knew this whole time if it was anyone, it was going to be Tony. And I don’t mean that in a last resort kind of way. It’s just the one that made the most sense. But like I told you, I’m afraid of being left behind.”

“Maybe he would not leave you behind? He’s already brought you on the ship.”

“Out of necessity. I’m sure that will change. And then I’ll just be left to wait for him.” You scoffed, suddenly angry again about your exchange with him earlier. “And he was so indignant that I loved anyone but him.”

“He’s a jealous man,” Peter commented.

“He is!” you agreed. “He cannot stand it knowing someone else was in my sights! Even Adam! He cornered him you know? I know he was threatening him. I didn’t heart it but I could see it in their body language. I was a prize for him, and he was making sure no one else would win me but him.” You inhaled deeply before admitting. “But what he said was true. I kept him dangling. Because I could not face the fact that Eloise and I were not to be. And I may have fueled his jealous behavior by continuing to flirt and giving him the hope he needed to be persistent.”

Peter looped arms with you and leaned in. “If he really likes you, he’ll get over it.”

You snorted, holding him tighter. “Tony? Get over a slight? I will live to see the day. He could not even handle it when men merely flirted with me at the tavern when he was at port and witnessed it.” You exhaled deeply and said, “I shouldn’t have told him about Eloise. I was pretty far deep in a bottle and thought maybe it would be okay, but I should have known then he would be envious. Even more so now that we have laid together.”

You suddenly blanched, realizing what you had divulged and shot Peter an embarrassed look.

Peter recovered quickly and ran a hand through his hair. “Are you happy though?”

“Mostly.”

“’Mostly’?”

“Yes. He will take care of me, is far too handsome for his own good, and he is kind enough to me. And is not… unskilled in the bedroom.” Peter’s lip upticked at the corner and you elbowed him with the arm looped, causing him to grunt before the two of you laughed. “I just wish he had not gotten so angry with me for telling him my feelings. He is possessive. And his anger is so easily lit. A very short fuse.”

Peter shrugged as if it was simple. “Then let’s just stay out. You and me. We have this whole ocean. And we can go lay on the grass up there when we are done and watch the stars.”

“That sounds romantic.”

“Trust me, Y/N. I’m not after you. Not to insult but I have my eyes set on the sea.”

You rolled your eyes, “Sounds like someone else I know.”

“And there had been a girl at port.”

That piqued your interest. “Who?”

“Mary Jane.”

“The florist?” He nodded and you smiled, grasping his hand. “You two would make a fine match.”

“If we ever go back to port, she’ll be the first one I will look for.”

“Why not request to go back? We both have someone to look for?”

Peter shook his head. “No… I think I was driven from port with events beyond my control. Right now, I need to follow the tide.” You frowned and he shrugged. “If we are meant to be, we will find each other again.”

“I wish I was so easily able to go with the flow as you,” you told him.

Peter snorted now. He pushed you towards the waterline, your feet dipping into the wave that lapped at the sore. “Come on now! Have some fun! You deserve it!”

“We’re both drunk.”

“That’ll make it this much more fun! Come on. Tony was an asshole to you, and you need to blow off some steam!”

He was right.

You dropped your shoes onto the sand, further up away from where the waves would touch them, and he followed your lead. Bending over one foot at a time, Peter pulled his shoes off and tossed them. You tore your gown off, leaving you in your shift. Your gown fluttered to the ground closer but far enough away to ensure it would not be swept away.

The water was up at your waist before Peter swooped at you and drug you under with him. Your scream was lost as you closed your mouth at the last second to make sure you did not swallow any salt water. The water was reprieve, a cold bath.

<><><>

“Well, there she is,” Sam commented, stopping on the grassy path outside the cavern. They had been hiking up it to check around the island.

He pointed down the cliffs and found Y/N only yards away from where her and Tony had been down on the beach. And there was a dark-haired boy with her. Peter, it looked like. And they were swimming together.

Tony rolled his eyes to high heaven before turning around and making to go back down.

“We need that boy. The food has been so much better with him the last couple weeks,” Steve hissed at Bucky and Sam. “Please don’t let him do anything rash. He’s still beyond drunk! Be on my side!”

Without waiting for them to answer, he turned and followed Tony quickly.

<><><>

Storming up to the edge of the waves, Tony shouted, “Y/N!”

She had just surfaced and had not heard him. He bellowed her name again over the waves and she turned her head towards him.

Her expression darkened as she recognized him, brushing her hair away from her forehead, and she shouted back, “What the hell do you want, Tony?”

Tony bristled at her attitude.

“Get out of the damn water!” he demanded, coming into the waves. “Come to my cabin!”

“No!” she snapped, still holding onto Peter’s arms. Peter was looking at Tony uncomfortably, nervous. “You’ve made your feelings clear! I’m just a whore, remember! I should sleep in any bed!”

Tony started coming through the waves, his legs dragging in the current until he was almost knee deep, stopping again. “I will not have you sleeping anywhere but my cabin! Get. Over. Here. Now!” She huffed disobediently, and he shouted, “Before I lose my fucking temper!”

His shout seemed to get through to her.

She shot Peter a look before pulling away from him. He followed her still all the same and Tony fought the monster clawing away inside his chest. As soon as she was within arm’s reach, he yanked her to him and she stumbled in the water.

“If anything makes you look like a whore, it’s being in your underdress with a man under the moonlight! And not to mention, kissing another merely an hour before!” She opened her mouth to argue and he spat, “Save it!”

He demanded you pick up your dress and shoes. You angrily followed his directions, and he took a tight hold of your wrist again, yanking you close once more. Over your shoulder, he told the men he had brought with him, “We’re going to my cabin. I’ll see you tomorrow. Thank you for your assistance. Please, grab one a bottle from the bar and put it on my tab.” They seemed to perk up that. His eyes fell on Peter and he sneered, “Get yourself dressed, boy. You’re going to be needed for breakfast sooner rather than later.”

With that, he pulled you behind him up the path towards the cavern again. But he was not taking you towards the cabins, he was taking you towards his ship. He was silent, ignoring your questioning. As soon as you were into his quarters again though, he propelled you in front of him, letting go. You stumbled, trying to catch your balance as he turned away and closed the door behind him. You threw your dress and shoes on the ground, pissed off.

He was on you in a second, a finger held up in warning. “I’ve had quite enough of your games, Y/N! I have been patient! I have given you choice and time and—FUCK! All the time in the world! You’re here with me now and that’s how it is going to stay! No more pussyfooting around!”

“I’m not pussyfooting—”

“This is where you stay,” Tony interrupted roughly, his finger pointed downwards at the hardwood of the cabin, his gaze burning into you. “You do not step foot off the ship but also, this room is where you stay!”

“I’m not a pet you can keep caged up!” you protested.

He closed the space quickly, fire burning in his eyes. “Watch me!” Tony snarled, towering over you.

You cowered back slightly, and he noticed. He was firm when he told you, “It’s just me. From now on. That’s all you get. If you really truly have feelings for me, this is your time to prove it. Stay in here! Like I just told you!” He leaned in to hiss, “Don’t test me, love! I’m done playing nice!”

He turned around furiously and strode out of his quarters, slamming the door behind him, and you jumped at the sound.

~~~

Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld @holl2712 @agustdowney @biiskuitx @buttercupfangirl

#tony stark x reader #dark tony stark #dark!tony stark #dark marvel #my shit

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hybridafterdark · 3 years

Text

@out-of-bitters asked:

It was bound to happen. An uptick in Char's nightmares, the beginning of the fugitive's reclusiveness growing back in how he had started to distance himself from Volt and Harmony again. Usually, within the span of a few days, the nightmares would lift and he would find himself slowly coming back to join Volt in the bed again.

Yet, a week passed him by, and each night he found it harder to find rest, to sleep, his confidence in such matters evaporating little by little. The nightmares were far too realistic. Too intense. Char feared he would wake in a petrified, adrenaline filled panic, and attack whoever happened to be closest. It had happened before, Volt more than once on the receiving end of his claws when gripped in the throes of a terrorizing, mind numbing nightmare.

Despite all efforts to ease his fears, Char still couldn't bring himself to sleep. He was tired, and most of all, irritated with himself. Irritated and angry that he continued to succumb to fears and hide out in the living room, the usual infomercials droning on quietly, the light of the television the only thing illuminating the living space.

The night felt as if it were dragging on and on, yet Char remained awake, far too paranoid that sleep would only bring more nightmares. Nightmares that he didn't want to revisit ever again, given a choice.

And the frustration, that yet again, he couldn't join Volt in bed. Another night passing him by, minute by agonizing minute. Char had no doubts that his lover wasn't fairing much better beyond the cracked door, Char's eyes catching sight of said soulmates tail, just barely visible in the dim light of the living room, Volt no doubt having taken up residence against the wall nearest the door.

Another hour passed, and Char only felt that much more distressed, that much more unhappy. And when his frustration finally peaked, he issued a low growl of annoyance with himself, then forced himself to stand from the couch after throwing the blanket off himself. He switched the television off, and steeled himself. One final glance was given to the couch after Char had straightened it back out, before he made his way to his and Volt's room.

He...was honestly afraid. Of what he intended to ask for tonight, of what he felt he needed to do to get over this gnawing sensation of repressed guilt and terror. The door was eased open, and eyes fell down toward Volt, diligently settled against the wall, almost like a snoozing sentry. Char knelt as his side, a hand coming to rest on a fluffy knee. Very gently, he shook his lover's leg, just enough to hopefully rouse him, and not frighten him in the process.

"Babe. You up?" It was an innocent enough question, but depending on his companions state of awareness, he might just return to the couch if Volt wasn't amicable to what Char wanted tonight.

"Hey... If yer too tired, you can keep sleepin', but I..." Trailing off, Char struggled to maintain eye contact with the hybrid.

"I...I wanna have sex."

Rather straightforward and to the point. But it did get a bit of what he wanted across, his muzzle pink. His eyes though, held a note of that unease and nervousness from before, uncertainty, fear. But he had prepared himself mentally for tonight, and he wouldn't allow these nightmares to keep him from those he loved any longer. Every day spent lying awake on that couch had drawn him toward this moment. Had pushed him in this direction. He felt he had to face this, or he might never sleep well again.

He didn't feel at all ready for this, but with Volt, he knew his lover would take his time, and they could stop at any point. So, when Char pressed his forehead to Volt's own, his expression sobered from the anxiety, and grew determined. "More specifically, I want you to have sex with me." But if Volt wasn't prepared, or felt too tired, Char would let it go for the night. This wasn't planned, but they could plan for it later if need be.

And Char wasn't about to take advantage of a potentially half asleep partner. He wanted to make sure that Volt wanted this.

Wanted him.

An intrusive thought that had ben pestering him relentlessly, despite Volt assuring him of such so many weeks prior now.

"It doesn't have ta be t'night if yer tired." A small out for his beloved, if he so chose to wait until another time.

——————————

It was true. Volt had found himself on the receiving end of a strike that left him stunned for a moment, mostly due to the force behind the blow than the damage itself. Honestly he had started getting used to getting his muzzle sliced by a claw or two some nights when he woke his partner, which led to a frown when Char started to sleep in the living room again. The loneliness that came from having a far too empty king sized bed brought the hybrid to sleeping by the wall.

If only so there wasn’t so much distance between them during the nights.

Although that night, while lightly dozing by the door, red tipped ears had quickly flicked at the sound of the television turning off. One thing Char would never have to worry about was that Volt was a light sleeper, and could sleep just about anywhere without an issue. He was also able to get far less sleep than any other Mobian he knew, besides a certain striped hedgehog, and could manage just fine on the two hours of sleep he had gotten. So when the door opened, fuchsia eyes followed at the touch to his knee and met with his love’s aqua hues.

“Mhmm. I’m up.” His voice sounded more groggy than he was, but he still offered a smile while reaching up with hand to brush against his partner’s freckled cheek. “I’m fine love. I don’t need…”

The next sentence had trailed off as Char finished his request. It hadn’t been something he expected but it didn’t stop him from continuing to stroke his mate’s cheek. Seeing the unease, a part of him had already managed to put two and two together to know what the next words were going to be. It brought a pause to his hand’s movement still, unsure if this would be the best time for it. But there was also that want that Volt couldn’t really deny.

Maybe it would be easier to speak with his actions first, before answering. That same hand that was cradling Char’s cheek was used to draw him closer, closer so their lips could meet in a slightly less than gentle kiss. No teeth yet, but that could come later as he pulled back to offering another smile.

“I’m not tired love, but are you sure you want to do this?” It wasn’t a refusal, because Volt honestly did want to be intimate again with his love. They’d been experimenting a few nights prior to Char taking up occupancy on the couch and Volt would have been lying if he said he had been able to find relief by himself. He stood after a moment and reached out to help his mate to his feet. A soft sound, almost a purr, rose from his throat as he started to step back towards their bed.

“I’m not going to rush you into this, but you know I would love to be able to make love to you tonight.” A minor correction. They weren’t just having sex in the hybrid’s eyes. Whenever they were intimate together, it was in a loving manner and building the bond that connected them on such a deep level.

“Why don’t you let me get you prepared, slowly, and when you’re ready you can roll over to be on top of me. It’ll let you set the pace and speed. So then if you need to stop, we can. Okay?”

#Answered Sin #If The Rings Are Good: IC #Mein Herz: Char&Volt #outofbitters

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dimigex · 3 years

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Gestures (KakaSaku)

This is for @harunosakuraweek, Day One, Prompt: Hanami

Sakura rubbed her eyes and fought to focus on the words in front of her. She’d spent the entire day in her office, trying to catch up on paperwork that should have been completed days if not weeks ago. She could never find never enough time to finish everything, especially when she saw patients during the day.

Blinking away the bleariness, Sakura returned to the row of numbers that indicated shinobi fatalities over the past month. She compared it to the previous month’s tally, then studied the past six months as a whole. There had been an uptick in deaths the previous two months, possibly attributable to the change to spring. However, the annual view showed an upward trend as well, and that couldn’t be attributed to the weather. There had to be extenuating factors. Maybe it was tied to the rise in the immigrant population—

A knock at the door pulled Sakura’s attention from her work. She growled and tossed the report onto her desk with a clatter. When she called out, she didn’t even try to moderate her tone. “Yes?”

A familiar grey head peeked around the door, then Kakashi stepped through. His eyes creased into his ever present eye smile. “So, you are still alive down here after all.”

“Yes, and I’m busy,” Sakura snipped, her annoyance with paperwork bleeding through at the first person she’d seen all day. “Is there something I can help you with?”

Kakashi closed the door behind him before crossing the office. He nodded. “As a matter of fact, there is.”

When the man didn’t continue, Sakura raised one eyebrow in his direction. “Did I mention that I was busy?”

“You did.” Kakashi rested one hip against the edge of Sakura’s desk, crossing his arms over his chest. “But, it’s going to have to wait. Official order of the Hokage, I’m afraid.”

Sakura tapped her pen against the palm of her opposite hand and narrowed her eyes. “Kakashi, I don’t have time for one of your games today. This paperwork needed done weeks ago, and I—

“And, you’ve been locked in here all day. You need to get out,” Kakashi finished. He leveled his gaze at Sakura. “You still have to eat, don’t you? And, all of this will still be here when you get back.

“I’ll order takeout,” Sakura countered, turning her attention back to her paperwork.

Kakashi plucked the report from Sakura’s hands. “I’m afraid not.” He lifted the pages out of Sakura’s reach when she shot to her feet. “I’m serious. This is for your own good.”

Growling, Sakura launched herself toward Kakashi, but he danced out of reach. After three unsuccessful attempts, she huffed and glared up at his smug expression. “If I agree to dinner, will you let me get back to work after?”

“If you still want to, yes.” Kakashi lowered the report, leaving himself wide open to Sakura’s fist. She didn’t put any chakra behind the punch; she used just enough force to remind him that she could have. The air whooshing out of the man’s lungs was more pleasant than she’d anticipated.

“Don’t manipulate me again,” Sakura warned, taking the pages back from Kakashi’s hand. She set the report back on her desk and shook her head. She knew a losing battle when she saw one. She turned to Kakashi who still hadn’t spoken and raised one hand to his shoulder. “Too hard?”

The man shook his head, letting a tentative breath. When it didn’t hurt, Kakashi nodded. “Okay, point taken. Are you ready to go?”

Sighing, Sakura flipped off the light on her desk and gave her work one last glance before turning away. She followed Kakashi out of the hospital and down the street. They passed Ichiraku, Sakura’s favorite sushi restaurant, the Korean BBQ, then the Chinese place that they’d been meaning to try. When they continued past Kakashi’s apartment, Sakura frowned. “Where exactly are you taking me?”

“Do you trust me?” Kakashi didn’t turn back or wait for Sakura’s answer; he already knew it. They’d been dating for a few months now, so it wasn’t completely unusual for him to surprise her with things like this, but it was rare.

The pair cut through the village, moving between buildings until Sakura began to wonder if Kakashi had lost his mind. There were no restaurants this way. When Kakashi stopped, Sakura almost ran into his back. She opened her mouth to complain, then stopped short at the scene before them.

The last time that Sakura had walked past this park, it had been a drab expanse of green and brown with the occasional splash of. It had erupted in shades of pink and white that swayed on every breeze. Dozens of people filled the space, colorful blankets spread over the scant spring grass. Sakura gazed around in wonder before turning back to face Kakashi.

“I didn’t want you to miss it,’ the man offered by way of explanation. “You’ve been so busy lately, I didn’t think you’d noticed.”

Kakashi led Sakura through the crowd, wading deeper into the sea of blossoms. He paused near the largest tree where a red and white blanket covered the ground. A heavy basket held the fabric in place. Sakura’s eyebrows crept upward again. “How did you manage all of this?”

“Being Hokage has some perks.” Kakashi eye smiled again then settled on the blanket. He offered one hand as if Sakura weren’t perfectly capable of joining him. She took it anyway, feeling a flush of warmth course through her. Kakashi held her hand for a moment, then released it. “Honestly, Shikamaru did most of this, but the thought was mine.”

“That’s what counts,” Sakura said, finally realizing how special the day really was. She had been so busy with work that she’d almost missed her chance to see their cherry blossoms at their peak. She gazed up at the tree above them; the soft petals of pink and white scented the air. So much beauty would be wiped away in just a few days. It seemed like such a waste, but at the same time, she knew that she wouldn’t appreciate them if they were always available. For one week, they would exist in perfection, then they would disappear as if they’d never been.

Exhaling, Sakura turned to find Kakashi watching her with a tender expression. A flush crept up her cheeks. “Thank you for this.”

“Maa.” Kakashi waved away the sentiment and began digging food and drinks out of the picnic basket. “I know how much you enjoy the flower viewing, but you were so caught up in work. I thought it might be a nice surprise.”

Sakura nodded, unable to hide the color on her face. She imagined that she must look something like the flowers overhead in the various stages of pink and could only hope that Kakashi didn’t notice. Reaching out, she helped him remove containers of their favorite foods without speaking. Sakura hoped that her actions conveyed her appreciation in a way that words couldn’t.

For a few minutes, Sakura felt every eye drawn to them. While she and Kakashi hadn’t been secretive about their relationship, they didn’t openly advertise it either. This was a big step for Kakashi, to put their lives so much in the public eye. The flower viewing was always crowded, but after a few minutes people went back to their own conversations. Sakura felt the tension bleed out of her shoulders.

“Thanks again,” Sakura murmured, leaning close enough to pitch the words for Kakashi’s ears alone. He turned the answer, and there was surprise in his eyes at how close they were. She closed the distance to meet his mouth in a kiss through the mask. “I love you.”

Kakashi tipped his head to the side, seeming to savor the closeness of the moment, then he smiled and brushed a strand of pink hair behind Sakura’s ear. “So, do you think you can hold off on returning to work for the rest of the night?”

Sakura leaned into the touch, and smiled. “I suppose you made a convincing argument, this time.”

#SakuraWeek2021 #Dimi Drabbles #Naruto #KakaSaku #Fluff mostly #minor violence (lol)#Sakura Haruno #Kakashi Hatake #Flower Viewing

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supernaturalfreewill · 4 years

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Words: 4,705 Dean x Reader Summary: Bobby hatches a plan to try to get you and Dean to reconcile after months apart. Warnings: None! A/N: Angsssst and then a happy ending. What more could one ask for?

Your name: submit What is this?

Dean turned when he heard a car door slamming across the yard and he immediately recognized the vehicle. He rubbed a hand over his mouth and chin and glared at Bobby, who was clearly pretending he hadn’t noticed your arrival and was making himself busy flipping the burgers on the grill.

“Bobby? Are you kidding me?”

Bobby glanced over at Dean carelessly. “What?”

“You called her? Really?” You were making your way up to the house and Dean thought your posture looked stiff.

“Oh, calm down, son. Not everything revolves around you. I lent her some gear and she’s just bringing it back.”

Dean chewed his bottom lip and glared at the back of Bobby’s head. “Uh huh. Uh huh, she just happens to be bringing it back the day I show up here with Sam.”

Bobby smirked to himself. “I don’t know what’s got your panties in a twist but it seems like maybe you have some unresolved issues to deal with…”

“Bobby,” Dean growled.

He finally turned and vehemently pointed at Dean with the spatula. “No. Now you listen to me. You two idjits belong together and everyone knows it. Figure it out!” he spat, before casually turning back around to the grill.

Your boot scuffing on the gravel finally forced him and Bobby to turn. You had a duffel bag slung over one shoulder.

“I didn’t mean to crash the barbeque. You didn’t tell me you had company,” you said pointedly to Bobby. Dean thought he saw you swallow hard and you looked about as uncomfortable as he felt.

“Must have slipped my mind,” Bobby said, giving you a tight smile.

“Mhmm… I’m sure,” you said. You dropped the duffel bag with a heavy thud onto the porch and couldn’t keep your eyes from landing on him any longer—Dean was standing there with his hands shoved into his jacket pockets and although it had been quite a long time since you had seen him, the expression on his face was one you still could readily decode. He was supremely uncomfortable. Bobby was looking back and forth between the two of you but finally turned back to the grill. You were about to open your mouth to say something when the front door swung open and Sam wandered out. He had a novel in one hand and an apple in the other and the slam of the screen door matched perfectly with the struck expression of surprise on his face to see you standing there so unexpectedly. The next moment he was grinning at you and before you could say anything he had you wrapped in a big bear hug, squeezing you tight enough that a little exhaled “Oof!” escaped your lips.

“Y/N! I didn’t—Bobby didn’t tell us—it’s so great to see you!” he said drawing back and taking you in, looking you over. His expression was so open and earnest and warm, just as you remembered, that you couldn’t help smiling back at him despite your annoyance at Bobby’s obvious scheming and the residual anger you felt toward Dean, with a heaping side of discomfort.

“Yeah, well Bobby forgot to mention you’d be here, too,” you said. Sam could hear the edge of tension in your voice and the swell of happiness he had on seeing you began to sink as he glanced over at Dean, trying to read his older brother’s mood. Dean was avoiding looking at you, mainly staring down at his boots.

An uncomfortable silence settled until you cleared your throat awkwardly and picked up the duffel bag again. “Well, I guess I’ll just go dump your gear in the house, Bobby, and then I’ll be on my way.”

“What? No! Y/N, you can’t leave. We haven’t seen you in forever,” Sam pleaded.

Bobby was pulling the last burger off the grill and he looked over at you with an obnoxious little uptick at one corner of his mouth. “I already counted you in for dinner so you have to stay or it’ll go to waste.”

You gave him a knowing look. “Go to waste? You’ve got a fridge. And two giant men visiting. It’ll get eaten or keep just fine…”

“Y/N, you can’t leave,” Sam said again. You made the mistake of meeting his eyes and goddammit, you didn’t know if he was doing it on purpose but those fucking puppy eyes. You couldn’t say no to that expression.

You sighed heavily and passed a hand over your brow, shaking your head a little at yourself for what you were about to agree to. “Alright… I’ll stay for dinner, but that’s it!” you said, vehemently pointing at Sam, who grinned triumphantly.

“Good. Now get on in the house. Sam’s already got the table ready, so we’ll just set an extra place. Dean—” Bobby held the laden burger plate out to him. “Take this in. I’ll be there in a minute. I’m just gonna clean off the grill.”

“Uhh… alright,” Dean said begrudgingly. He followed you and Sam into the house, his apprehension growing. He wanted more than anything to let his eyes wander over you there in front of him, in the flesh, not just some image conjured in his mind late at night when he couldn’t quite drown out his regrets with whiskey or blaring rock music.

“Beer?” Sam asked, opening the fridge.

You heard footsteps behind you and turned, meeting Dean’s striking green eyes for the first time and awkwardly sidestepping out of his way so he could get to the table. He tore his eyes from yours quickly and you felt that familiar twist in your stomach. “Umm, got anything stronger?” you asked, with a wry laugh.

“Stronger?” Sam repeated. “This is Bobby’s house,” he said, walking across the kitchen and opening up a cabinet which was stocked with liquor. “What can I get you?” Sam asked.

“Rye whiskey, neat.” You and Dean had both said it at the same time and your mouth fell slightly open in surprise. He was straightening up from setting down the tray of burgers and this time when he met your eyes he didn’t pull them away.

He smoothed a hand down his shirt and you thought you saw the muscle in his jaw tense. “Sorry,” he murmured.

You just vaguely shook your head. It was the first time he’d really spoken since you had arrived and it was to recite your drink choice as if he had been sitting next to you sipping them in the evening in front of a log fire just the day before. In reality it had been months and months and months since you had even spoken to each other.

Sam watched the extended gaze between the two of you, the air in the room feeling thicker by the second and he thought about making some excuse to leave, but Bobby was expected in at any moment anyway so he cleared his throat and busied himself with a glass and the whiskey. “Comin’ right up.”

“Umm—” Your eyes were still connected with Dean’s and he was finding it hard to look anywhere else now that he had started studying you. “I’m just gonna—jacket…” Dean said, starting to take off his coat and heading out of the kitchen toward the front room. You didn’t want to admit it but just the sound of his voice, deep and somewhat gruff, was threatening to make you weak at the knees. It conjured images in your mind of lost times that were both precious but also now profoundly painful now that they had passed.

When Sam next looked up, you were standing stock straight in the middle of the room, staring in the direction Dean had gone with a queer expression on your face. It was questioning and a bit sad, but Sam noted that there was no hostility. “Here you go,” he said, breaking the spell you seemed to be under and handing you a small tumbler with your drink.

“Oh. Thanks,” you said, accepting it gratefully from him and immediately taking a big gulp.

Sam’s brow furrowed slightly. “Are you alright?”

“Me?” you asked in surprise. You constructed the most casual expression you could and shrugged. “Yeah. Fine. Just… I don’t know what the hell Bobby was thinking—”

“Well, you could ask me yourself,” he said, rushing into the kitchen.

“Good. Fine. What the hell do you think this is going to accomplish?” you asked him in a hurried undertone.

“What? Dinner? Well, I think we’ll all be a bit less hungry at the end of it,” he said, clearly snarky on purpose.

You shut your eyes and gritted your teeth against the wave of annoyance. “You know that isn’t what I mean.”

Bobby sank into the chair at the head of the table. “Dean! Get your hide in here! Time to eat!” He turned his eyes to you again. “Y/N, are you going to join us or are you just—going to run away? Again.” He knew what he was saying. He knew that would get you fired up. And it did. You opened your mouth to argue, feeling another swell of exasperation rising up inside you but Dean was breezing into the kitchen again and taking a seat at the table, leaving the only empty chair the one right between him and Bobby. You felt like the wind just went out of your sails and Bobby smirked at you from his seat.

You bit your tongue and sank into the empty chair.

Dinner was composed almost entirely of Sam and Bobby asking questions of you and you and Dean avoiding looking at each other. You answered the queries as succinctly as you could until Sam finally found something to crack open the hard shell you were holding around yourself.

“Y/N, what happened here?” he asked, pointing to his own forehead above his right eyebrow with a vertical slashing motion. “You didn’t have that scar before, did you?”

Dean’s eyes shot over to your face immediately and you actually froze with your glass halfway to your lips, the next moment setting it back down without any thought of a sip. You cleared your throat and pressed your napkin to your lips briefly, almost as an excuse to hide part of your face for a moment as you steeled yourself against the involuntary torrent of residual fear. “No. No, that one is new.” You had sincerely hoped that Sam would allow you to leave it at that but, of course, he didn’t. And you could feel Dean’s eyes drifting over your face and sense his… apprehension? Concern?

“What happened?” Sam asked, his eyes now narrowed a little in genuine concern too.

“Just a hunting souvenir,” you said, trying to manage your tone so it sounded casual. You avoided everyone’s eyes.

Bobby was considering your body language carefully. He was debating about pressing you further. He could see that there was real fear surrounding that memory. Not only did he now want to know what had happened, but he knew this would break down both you and Dean’s constructed walls. What would be better at getting the dialogue going than vulnerability? “What was the monster?” Bobby asked.

You couldn’t avoid such a direct question without it being blatantly obvious. “Vamp nest,” you said, staring down at your plate. You felt like you couldn’t breathe. The familiar tunneling at the edge of your vision warned of a panic attack and you stood up abruptly, the movement emphasized by the groaning of your wooden chair on the floor. “I need some air.” You practically ran out the front door and onto the porch, leaning heavily on the railing and trying to force your heart and lungs to slow. You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re fine. Just bad memories.

Inside, Dean was staring down the hallway where you disappeared and Sam and Bobby exchanged a concerned look, both now feeling a little guilty for pressing you. Something had happened on that hunt, more than the usual bumps and bruises.

Dean felt a familiar tightness in the center of his chest and even reached a hand up to absently rub at it to no effect. “Someone should go make sure she’s okay,” he said, turning back around to look at his little brother.

Sam nodded. “Yeah, I think you’re right,” Sam agreed, but he made no move to get up. Dean’s eyes next landed on Bobby.

“I agree with Sam,” he said pointedly, also stubbornly leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest.

Dean’s jaw tense and the muscle twitched. “Oh, come on. I can’t—I’m probably the last person she wants to talk to right now,” he growled.

“Well, then I guess we’ll just leave her out there alone,” Bobby said, reaching for his beer. “She’s a grown up. She’s tough. She’ll be fine.” Dean was stubborn, but so was Robert Singer.

Sam was almost ready to cave and go check on you when Dean stood up abruptly, the same groan from his chair mimicking the one yours had made, swearing under his breath. You heard footsteps coming up the hall and the familiar sound of the squeaky screen door and straightened up. You were surprised to see Dean when you turned.

“Oh—” The noise of surprise escaped your lips involuntarily and Dean shrugged in response.

“Yep. It’s me. …sorry,” he said.

Your heart had slowed mostly back to its usual steady pace and you just stared at the older Winchester for a long moment. The silence was awkward, tense, and you found yourself wondering how long it was going to go on.

Dean shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and stole fleeting glances at your expression. He had to clear his throat. Why did it feel so suddenly constricted. “Umm—are you okay? You left kind of suddenly in there?”

“I’m fine.”

He nodded, his lips pressing together in a thin line, the corners turning downward. “Good. …okay.”

You expected him to leave, having done the bare minimum to check on you, but he just went on standing there. So, you just went on waiting… for what felt like an eternity. You had a feeling that he was teetering on the edge of saying something and you gave him an inquisitive look, one of your eyebrows lifting of its own accord.

Finally, his green eyes rose from staring at his boots and landed on your face. He seemed to decide something in that moment. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“… ‘it’?”

“The hunt. How you got that fresh scar?” he asked, inclining his chin and his eyes flashing toward what had obviously been a good gash on your forehead.

You turned away from him again, trying hard to suppress the flash of fear you felt from changing your expression, and leaned on the railing again, looking out over the junkyard. “Not really,” you murmured.

“Not really or just not to me?” he asked. You were a little surprised at his bluntness and turned to look at him again, but you didn’t say anything. You straightened up again and after giving him one last, long look you sighed.

“I, uhh… I think I’m just gonna head out,” you said. “This was—whatever Bobby was thinking, I just—I’m gonna go.”

You could see Dean chewing the inside of his cheek, nodding ever so slightly, his lips pressed together again. When he spoke there was an edge to his voice. “Sure. Go. I guess the good thing is I’m not surprised this time,” he said.

You felt like you’d been punched in the gut and the air rushed out of your lungs like it had been forced. “What?”

“That’s what you do, isn’t it? You run. When things get hard, you leave. How many other people have you left in your wake in the past six months, hmm? And here I am, fucking stupid enough to somehow experience it twice. Well, at least this one is mostly on Bobby.”

You were breathing fast and hard now, anger and hurt boiling in your chest. “I ran? That’s what you think happened? I just—I just up and ran? Dean Winchester is the sole victim.”

“No, I—”

“It couldn’t have had anything to do with the person I cared about more than anything else in this world lying to me, for months, and betraying my trust over and over again. No, that wasn’t it!” Your tone was dangerous and rising in volume along with your anger.

“I never said that I didn’t fuck up!” Dean roared back. “But you didn’t stick around long enough to even try to fix it—so I obviously,” his jaw clenched, “we obviously didn’t mean that much to you if you were able to just go tearing off like you did!”

You stared at him, incensed at his accusation. Your fists were clenched so tight your fingernails were digging into your palms, and you didn’t give a shit that Sam and Bobby could probably hear every single word.

“I couldn’t even get you on the goddamn phone,” Dean said. “You were just gone! Do you know what Sam and I thought? For months, we thought you were going to go barreling into something and get yourself killed, which is what started this whole thing in the first place! And now you show up here with that new scar on your forehead—what the hell have you been doing? A vamp nest? Jesus, Y/N, do you think you’re fucking invincible? You need back up!”

You broke your dangerous silence violently. “I had fucking back up! I had back up!” you yelled, sounding almost desperate. Dean’s anger broke at that exact moment and he watched you turn away from him again, slumping your weight down onto the railing. “I had fucking back up…” you said quietly.

Dean’s mind was whirring and he had a horrible sinking feeling in his stomach.

You were staring down at your clasped hands. “You really think all I do is run? That’s what you think of me? Well, guess what? I didn’t. My hunter partner, one of my oldest friends, got caught and he tried to tell me to get out and I didn’t. I stayed. And you know what happened? They killed him in front of me and they turned me. I woke up with my head split open and the worst—I somehow managed to fight the bloodlust, murder those sons of bitches, and give myself the cure.” You sighed heavily, hanging your head and shutting your eyes, before straightening up again and looking at Dean. He thought he saw tears starting glisten in your eyes. “So, running or staying, I guess I can’t win.”

Dean was at a loss… He had said so much in hurt, in anger. He felt like a complete jackass. “Y/N, I—”

But you interrupted him and held up a hand. “Just don’t, okay? I don’t want to fight with you, Dean. I’m just… I’m just frickin’ tired. From all of it.” You stepped past him and grasped the screen door handle when he interrupted you again.

“No,” he said suddenly, forcefully. “No. This time I’m not just gonna let you go.” There was a fire suddenly blazing in his green eyes, making it look like the hues in his irises were dancing.

“Let me?”

“That was maybe the biggest mistake I’ve ever made in my life,” he said. “And I don’t care if you don’t want to fight with me, I want to fight with you. Because I can’t go on like this, pretending that I’ve just moved on and that I’m fine with you not being in my life anymore because I’m not. I have to try. So, let’s fight. And, if at the end of it, you still don’t want anything to do with me, I can—I can try and live with that, because at least I’ll know I tried.”

You peered at him in bewilderment, your hand still on the screen door, but slowly your fingers slipped from it and the glassiness in your eyes returned as you looked at him. “You hurt me so badly—”

“I know. And you’re right about everything you said. I betrayed your trust. I lied to you for months, and the whole time Sam was telling me I was being a fucking idiot, and, God, I hate it when he’s right…” Dean gulped and stepped a little closer to you. He wanted so much to break that space barrier between you, just to touch your arm… just to hold your hand. “And if I could go back and do it over again, I wouldn’t be so insecure and so—so terrified. I would do it all differently. But at least allow me to explain to you—” he sighed in frustration. All his words were trying to come out at once. “I thought that because I was trying to protect you that it was justified. I didn’t—I didn’t—” he let out a frustrated growl at himself, that he couldn’t find the words. “Relationships are a partnership. We were a team. And I went completely against that and I made decisions for me and for you without including you. I see that now. And I’m so, so sorry. But then you just left… you just—” Dean felt like his voice was about to break and stopped. “And that hurt me more than I even allowed myself to realize at the time.”

Your face softened as you looked at him, the evening now wearing on and the diminishing light making his eyes look deeply emerald. Dean watched your lips part a little in a soft frown, saw your shoulders fall a little.

“Everyone leaves,” he said, and in that moment you saw the little kid in him, simply afraid of losing again and again and again. “One way or another everyone leaves and I just—I never thought that it would be you.”

That stung like a hot knife between your lungs and you felt off balance. The silence stretched for a long moment before you broke it with a heavy sigh. “To be fair, neither did I,” you said. You squeezed your eyes shut along with one of your fists. “I was just so angry and so—it was my fight! And you took that away from me. And I can’t get that back. Can you imagine if I had done that to you? What if I had gone off and killed the thing that killed your mom or your dad without you? And had lied about it to you for months?”

“I know,” Dean said, and took a step toward you. “And I’m so sorry.”

You sighed again, feeling like the last of your walls had just come tumbling down, like Dean had pulled one brick out from the bottom and the whole structure collapsed. “Me too.” You realized that, in a way, by leaving as you did you had betrayed his trust in turn.

“Y/N, you have to know that you’re the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think about before I go to sleep. Every day. Still. Always.”

You felt yourself, your resolve, crumbling further. Dean took another step toward you. “If you don’t feel anything for me anymore, then—please, just tell me right now and I swear I won’t—I won’t bother you again. And I’ll tell Bobby where he can shove his meddling."

You could only gulp nervously and go on looking back at him, the eye contact between the two of you magnetic. You wondered at how earlier in the evening you could barely look at each other and now you couldn’t stop. You felt tears stinging your eyes again and let out a wry laugh, blinking them away. “You’re an idiot,” you said through a teary smile.

Dean stepped a bit closer, his eyes not leaving your face. “I know.”

“This isn’t all just magically fixed—”

“I know,” he said again, his voice now a bit breathy. He was so close you swore you could almost feel the deep timbre in your chest, feel the heat of him, the weight of him.

You stared at him and only had one more second of indecision before you gave in. “Well… kiss me, you idiot.”

Dean didn’t need telling twice. You collided as if you hadn’t spent any time apart. Dean’s arm wrapped around your lower back and his other hand tangled in your hair. The kiss was fierce, insistent and you felt like you were clay softening in a sculptor’s hands. It was blissful to be melting into him again. It felt like you had been underwater for months and were finally able to come up for air. Dean was your air and you drew in deep lungfuls. He deepened the kiss and his hand pressed harder on your lower back, pushing you into him, your body arching against his. He clasped your face and kissed you desperately. Slowly his lips softened on yours and became pleading, gentle, and finally he pulled away slightly and heaved in a deep breath, leaning his forehead against yours, both of you breathless with your eyes closed. Your fingers trailing lightly down his back were familiar and felt like home. Your arm around his neck was comforting, safe. He pulled back so he could look into your eyes and your heart leaped at being able to study his eyes and count the freckles on his nose and cheeks.

“God, I missed you,” he said softly.

You smiled a little at him, still a little overwhelmed. “I missed you.”

His face turned suddenly serious again and he placed a kiss gently on the new scar on your forehead before meeting your eyes again. “I’m sorry that you had to go through that—and I’m—I’m really sorry about your friend.”

Your eyes fell. “Yeah. Yeah, me too.”

Dean’s hands were resting gently on your hips now and you took in another deep breath, just thinking of how much time you had wasted when you should have been right there with him… True, there was work to be done, trust to be repaired, but this felt like someone had just turned on the light at the end of a long, dark tunnel. Suddenly, hushed voices just inside drew both of your attention and you caught a glimpse of Bobby shouldering Sam out of the way and both of them trying to sneak back up the hallway, rather unsuccessfully.

You laughed and pressed a hand to your forehead. “Oh no…”

Dean gave you a comical look. “This is going to go right to Bobby’s head.”

“He’s going to go on a total power trip,” you agreed.

“Ehh… honestly, I think given the consequences of his actions I’m kind of okay with it.”

You stood on your tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Dean pulled you in for another kiss before you could set your heels back down…

#dean winchester fics #dean winchester x reader #spn fanfics #dean one shots #fanfiction #supernatural #bobby singer

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