#( *me looking at my muses* okay but what if i gave you a KID !!! )

[kokoronohiroi]

i see okuyasu w babies / kids and i feel an insatiable urge to slam my head against a wall (affectionate)

[atlabeth]

bleedin' me dry | luke castellan

runaway with luke ending here!!

summary: luke has a proposal. it doesn't go over well.

a/n: so um. obviously im a huge percy jackson stan ive got annabeth in my name and ive literally wanted to be her since i read the books in second grade and by virtue of being an annabeth stan i hate luke but i also think he is so interesting and so good for angst and i also love the pjo resurgence we’ve got going on here from the show!! so here you go. here's some angst

title from vampire by olivia rodrigo

wc: 2.8k

warning(s): fem!child of demeter reader. luke is his own warning lmao. pushy and manipulative behavior, not the healthiest relationship! and no happy ending

“You know I love the forest,” you mused, “but you have to have a reason for bringing me out here.”

He gave you a wry smile as he squeezed your hand. “Do I have to have a reason? You said you love it—that’s gotta be reason enough.”

“I love it, but there are monsters here.” You twisted your free hand and flowers sprouted up a few feet away. “It does give me a chance to show off, though.”

You were in your cabin helping Katie clean up everything—it was the last day of summer and most of the Demeter kids had already left—when Luke knocked on the door and asked you to accompany him on “a little adventure”. Despite the teasing of your siblings, you bashfully accepted.

It wasn’t the smartest thing, admittedly, to find yourself in the forest with your boyfriend with a couple hours ‘til curfew when you still weren’t even sure if you were leaving or not, but you had your dagger. Luke didn’t have his sword, but you had been practicing.

It wasn’t like it really mattered, anyways—he probably just wanted to make out with you. It was far from the first time, and for all he knew you were leaving for the school year in a few hours.

He chuckled but didn’t say anything. You looked up at him, a slight frown creasing your brows, and nudged him with your shoulder.

“Is everything okay, Luke?” you asked. “You’ve been… oddly quiet.”

Again, it took him a moment to respond before he just shrugged. “I’ve been thinking, I guess.”

“About what?”

“Life,” he said. “Our lives.”

“Very philosophical for the hour,” you said dryly. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Luke nodded, “yeah, I’m fine. I just wanted to ask you something.”

“Ask away.”

“Have you ever thought about leaving?”

“I’m still deciding whether I want to go back home for school or not, but—”

“Not after the summer,” Luke interrupted. “Leaving camp. For good.”

You frowned, a chill running down your spine. “Of course not. Camp Halfblood saved my life, Luke. I could never leave.”

“Says who?” Luke stopped and your intertwined hands pulled you back, stopping you as well.

“Says all the monsters that tried to kill me last time I went home,” you said slowly. “Don’t tell me you forgot the dracaena that nearly got me on that field trip.”

“‘Course I didn’t forget,” he said, inclining his head. “I just think you’re good enough now to make it without this place.”

“Luke,” you said with a strained laugh, “you— you can’t be serious.”

He shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because if we leave, we’ll die,” you said slowly. “I barely made it on my own out there.”

“You’re more powerful now. And you won’t be on your own,” he said, tugging you closer. Despite it all, warmth bloomed in your chest. “I can protect you.”

“Luke…” You trailed off as he cupped your cheek with his other hand, bringing your gaze back to his.

“What’s the point of staying here?” Luke murmured, an unmistakable softness in his eyes. “Just so we can sit around at summer camp for the rest of our lives? I mean, it’s not like that’s gonna be much longer, the way Chiron tells it.”

“I ha— we have friends here,” you said, huffing another laugh as you took a step back from him. It was easier to think when he wasn’t touching you, when you were still able to sever the string connecting the two of you. “We have a life here. A safe life, Luke, where we don’t have to look over our shoulders constantly.”

“Not me.” Luke shook his head as he moved a step forward in tandem, and he took your hand again, his grip tighter this time. “You’re the only thing I’ve got keeping me here.”

“Please,” you said in disbelief. “You’ve got a whole cabin of siblings that adore you. You’re the best swordfighter here. I’m pretty sure even Mr. D has a soft spot for you.”

“Please,” he mocked, “you can’t seriously believe that.”

You shrugged. “All I know is that when you finally asked me out, I gained a whole lot of enemies.”

“Like that means anything,” Luke said.

“The kids love you too!” you exclaimed. “Their eyes light up with stars whenever you help them with their sparring. You’re a beacon of light to this place— where is all of this coming from?”

“I’m tired,��� Luke said roughly. “Tired of the gods ignoring us when all they’ve caused is pain.”

You frowned, but he continued on.

“You’re telling me you haven’t noticed it?” he asked. “When’s the last time you ever saw my dad give me any kind of attention besides some fun-colored smoke? He ruined my mother’s life— he ruined my life! And our cabin is damn near overflowing with unclaimed kids. Where are their parents?

“Luke—”

He shook his head as he forged on. “And you can’t say that Demeter is any good either. I bet she makes your cereal tastes real good in the morning, but she’s abandoned you for your whole life.”

“Luke, where is this coming from?” you asked, your frown deepening further and further as you let go of his hand and took a step back. “You— you know I’m not a fan of them, but you can’t just go around saying things like this. The last thing I need is for my mother to— to smite me, or strangle me with vines or something because I’m not appreciating her enough.”

Luke huffed a laugh. “That would be the most attention she’s paid to you since she claimed you.”

“She’s a goddess,” you said. “She’s got more important things to do than send me emails asking how my day is going.”

“Really?” Luke asked, his eyebrows rising.

“Yes, really,” you enunciated. “I expect it. I consider myself lucky she claimed me at all.”

“Do you even hear yourself?” he marveled as he said your name. “Your mother has never been there for you, and you think you’re lucky?”

“Luke—” you started, but you couldn’t even finish as he continued on.

“Demeter wasn’t there for the year you spent feeling like the scum of the Earth because you hadn’t been claimed yet. Demeter wasn’t there for the childhood she gifted to you then abandoned you for.” He pushed forward still. “Demeter wasn’t there for all those sleepless nights you spent in the Hermes cabin wondering if you were ever going to know who got you into this mess.”

“Luke, stop,” you finally managed to get out, moving back in turn.

“You know who was?” He continued to forge on, capturing your wrist when you tried to take another step back, eliciting a shaky exhale as you flinched. “Me.”

You ripped your arm away from him, fire in your eyes and blazing in your blood. “Don’t ever touch me like that again.”

“I’ve been here for you since the moment you stepped foot into Cabin Eleven!” Luke’s voice rose, and you’d never been more aware of the dagger hanging off your belt. “Through every tear, every tirade, every godsdamned rant about the gods—”

You stumbled back, and your heart stuttered in your chest as your back hit a tree. Your jaw was clenched, attempting to stop your tremors trying to wrack your body.

“And you’re telling me,” his voice suddenly lowered until it was scarily soft, little more than a whisper as he leaned over you, noses nearly touching, “that you would still choose them over me?”

“If you do not get away from me right now,” you said, quiet and even, “what we have, and anything we could have, will be over.”

Luke didn’t move. “Answer me.”

For a moment, it was just that—you and Luke staring at each other. His chest rising and falling just so from the effort of yelling, his beautiful eyes devoid of any previous softness. You thought your teeth might crack with the pressure in your jaw.

“No,” you said. “I wouldn’t choose them over you.”

And for an even shorter moment, his eyes do soften.

“But I won’t leave my family,” you whispered. “Not for whatever cause you think you’re fighting for.”

And just like that, the armor went up again.

“So that’s the way this ends,” Luke said evenly, and when he moved a few steps back, you felt like you could finally breathe again.

“You know who I am,” you argued, though you couldn’t make yourself move. “My siblings are my family— my friends are my family. I’d never leave them.”

“Oh, I should have expected it,” he said offhandedly. His laughter was a cruel thing. “I always knew you were a coward.”

“Don’t you dare turn this on me,” you spat. “Why do you even want to leave in the first place?”

“Because I’m sick and tired of all the bullshit that goes on here!” Luke yelled. “We’ve been here for years, and what the hell do we have to show for it? A couple scars? A lot of near death experiences? Some deadbeat parents that ruined our damned lives?”

“I have a family that I never could’ve dreamed of!” you exclaimed. “I have sisters and brothers that love me, friends that understand me, and—”

Your voice broke for a moment and you swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing the tears back. Some of the fire burning through your veins had been extinguished as you continued.

“And I thought I had a boyfriend that was there for me.”

It was there again—his eyes softening ever so slightly when he looked at you. But then he clenched his jaw. “And I thought I had a girlfriend that was there for me.”

“I won’t leave,” you enunciated. “I’m not going to help you with whatever crusade you think you’re meant to lead against the gods!”

“You don’t understand,” he insisted.

“You don’t understand!” you exclaimed. “You’re ready to leave all of this behind, and for what?”

“I don’t want to leave it all behind,” he said. “I want you by my side. We could be something truly great together— can’t you see?”

Luke took your hand again and pulled you away from the tree, gesturing with his hand around you. “You can control all of this. The whole world is your domain—we’d be untouchable.”

“Luke, you sound crazy,” you said roughly. “Where is all of this coming from, seriously?”

“I just know that we can live a better life,” he said. “Together, without the gods.”

“Witho—” You couldn’t even manage to finish the word, shaking your head at the pure absurdity of it. You hardly recognized your boyfriend purely because of the insanity he was spouting. “Luke, we don’t need to leave! We don’t need to stand against the gods, or— or whatever this is!”

This time, you took his hand as you tried to smile. “We can make this work, Luke, and we can make it work here,” you begged. “I promise.”

“Things need to change,” he said, voice steely, pulling his hand away. “And they’re clearly not going to change here.”

“Yes, they can,” you insisted, your hands clenching into fists at your side. “I want things to change too, believe me! But going off on your own isn’t going to do anything for it. We can start it here—together.”

His eyes were colder than ever as he looked down on you, and you truly didn’t recognize him. The glint in his eye and edges you would cut yourself on and the insanity he was spouting for no damn reason. You didn’t know what in Hades’ name had gotten into him.

“All we do is sit around and wait for that hag in the attic to spout prophecies, and then Chiron sends some kids off to die, and then we sit around and wait to do it again,” Luke said. “The gods keep making kids and the kids keep dying because they leave them in the world alone— we’re practically grandparents here because we’re lucky to make it past sixteen! The gods don’t do a damn thing about it, and neither does Chiron.”

He shook his head as he stared right into your eyes. “You’re not as smart as I thought if you think you can change anything here.”

“So— so what?” you asked brazenly. “You’re just gonna leave?”

Luke shrugged. “I was always gonna leave. It just depended whether you were with me or not.”

He turned around and started walking, and for a moment you were fully dumbstruck, unable to move. Then something snapped inside of you, and you moved your hands straight up through the air. Vines sprouted from the ground and tangled around Luke’s legs, stopping him and nearly causing him to fall.

“You don’t just get to walk away from me after spouting this bullshit,” you fumed as you ran to catch up with him. “What in Demeter’s name has gotten into you, Luke? Gods— this isn’t you!”

“See?” Luke smiled, ignoring your question. “You are powerful.”

“Answer me,” you seethed.

He shrugged, that small smile still on his lips. “It’s always been me. Maybe you’ve just been too stupid to realize.”

“Where are you going to go?” you asked, ignoring his jab. “Not home, clearly.”

It was a deep cut, something you never would have said under normal circumstances, but his expression didn’t change.

“I’ve got plans,” he said, ignoring your jab, and he huffed a laugh. “And I guess they don’t involve you anymore.”

All you could do was stand there, stunned as you stared at him. It was cliche, but it really wasn’t him, because you loved Luke and he loved you.

He’d always been a bit spitfire, always a little sharp around the edges, but you loved that about him—and he softened those edges for you. He was strong-willed and caring and passionate about everything, and you didn’t want to lose him. Not like this.

You knew what he’d been through. You knew what happened to his mother, what happened to Thalia, everyone he’d lost and every reason for every scar. But you never thought—

Gods. You never thought he’d actually do… this.

“Let me go, will ya?” Luke asked, tilting his head. “Or else what we have will be over— or whatever it was you said back there.”

The vines receded against your will, like his words just connected to your subconscious. You stayed rooted in place as he continued walking away.

But then he stopped. Turned around, looked right at you.

And for a moment you were fourteen again, feeling alone and forgotten going into your third month in the Hermes cabin. Grumbling your way through sword practice because the excited camp counselor who just happened to be your age refused to let you sulk for another day.

It was days after your fifteenth birthday, and the golden sickle with sheaths of wheat had finally appeared over your head at lunch. Luke had lunged at you, wrapping you in the tightest hug possible, and looked at you with all the stars in your eyes as he congratulated you. He helped you move your meager belongings into the Demeter cabin the very next day.

It was the first time you decided to go home since arriving at camp, and Luke was sidled outside your door, making wry comments every so often as he kept you company while you packed.

It was him kissing you right before you went over the hill because he said he couldn’t keep his feelings in any longer. It was you kissing him right back wondering why he waited so damn long.

It was three years of the best thing you’d ever experienced, of the most steadfast companion you could’ve had by your side—three years of Luke Castellan’s love.

Then you blinked, and you were back in the woods. Luke’s expression had softened, but the brimming tears in your eyes blurred your vision.

“I really did love you, y’know,” Luke finally murmured. “But you should know that love isn’t ever enough.”

He was out of your view before you could even muster the strength to move again, and then you were running through the forest faster than ever before.

But when you reached Cabin Eleven, there was no sign of him. And when you checked the pavilion and the forge and the amphitheater and the training arena and every other godsdamned place, you were just as disappointed.

But by the time you got to Chiron and found out the chaos that had spouted in his wake, that he had wanted you to be a part of, it was much, much too late.

Percy Jackson was fighting for his life. Camp had been left in complete disarray. Luke was working for Kronos.

And the man you loved was truly gone.

[russellsppttemplates]

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C6V6n-No6Eu/?igsh=MXFydWFzODkyOWEyYg==

What about a blurb with P asking for the reader because she hasn't seen her in a while? And Lando tells her you're flying over and they arrange a playdate for you

Note: this is easily the cutest video I've ever seen of them 🥹

"Look! It's Lando! Can I go?", the British driver heard as he hung out outside of the hospitality, getting some fresh air before he had to go to the meeting room,

"P!", he cheered, finding the source of the voice, "you're here for the race this weekend?", he mused.

"Yes, me and mama came to watch Maxie race!", she said excitedly as she hugged Lando.

"That's a nice idea - are you enjoying it? I like your backpack", he smiled at the kanguru like backpack, giving Kelly a quick greeting before turning his attention back to the little girl.

"Is Y/N here with you?", Penelope asked, looking around for you.

"She's flying over today! She should be here in a couple of hours", Lando smiled as she nuzzled her head on his tummy, "do you miss her?".

"Yes, I do! I haven't seen her in so looong", P extended the word with a groan as Lando petted her head slightly, "do you think she'll want to come play with me? Me and Maxie found some swings yesterday", she smiled.

"I bet she will - I don't think she's coming to the paddock today, but tomorrow she will be here, and you can tell her all about those cartoons you showed me the other day too!", Lando suggested.

"Yes! Mama! Me and Y/N have a playdate tomorrow!", she yelled as Kelly approached them after she snapped a couple of pictures at the cute moment.

"Is that so, hm? Did she say yes to it or are you making everyone follow your lead? Her teacher says she's always bossing the other kids around", she mused.

"She's not here, but Lando says she's flying today and tomorrow we have a playdate - we have to bring my iPad so I can show her the new Bluey episode - do you know if she's seen if?", Penelope asked.

"I'm sure she hasn't", Lando assumed, "which means you'll get to show her for the first time, darling!", he smiled.

"Yes! Tomorrow, we'll come here to find Y/N - tell her that I like her a lot and that I can't wait, okay?", Penelope asked.

"I will - say hi to Max for me too?", he stretched his pinky finger to lace it in her much smaller one.

"That was cute actually", Zak said once they were back inside the hospitality.

"She loves Y/N, which also means I gave her a free pass to steal my girlfriend for the whole weekend", Lando mumbled, "might have not been the best decision considering I haven't seen her in two weeks and I would very much like to keep her all to myself".

"Should've thought about it first as I'm not sure you can compete with Bluey - that episode is very fluffy!".

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[hopelesslyromanticshark]

wait now i’m so curious of how jason would be with a mortal girlfriend like your headcanons for percy were so good and it’s such an interesting concept

⋆⭒˚.⋆ jason grace x mortal! reader hcs

content: jason grace x mortal! reader hcs warning: language, fluff then immediate angst that will give you whiplash so sorry but it was also too fun not to put in author's note: I WOULD LIKE TO FORMALLY APOLOGIZE FOR WHAT YOU ARE ABOUT TO READ IT WAS GOING SO WELL AND THEN I GOT SAD AND I MADE THIS HEARTBREAKING MONSTROSETY YOUR WELCOME also, I made that text thingy myself bc I wanted it to match the Percy one and I’m v proud of it so if you guys could fill the comments with ‘wow that text looks so good and made me Laugh Out Loud you’re so funny’ that’d be great for my ego thanks

you guys didn't met at school, obvi

genuinely have no idea if this guy is smarter than a fifth grader but that's a topic for another day

jason was just doing his big time praetor thing, ya know how it be, killing monsters and what not

and you were happily walking through rome, trying to enjoy your vacation when you basically got body slammed by a lady in an annoyingly scratchy feather suit.

"hey! watch it!" you shouted, indignantly from the ground, causing the lady to spin and growl at you.

now that you were squinting up at the woman, you realized the scratchy feather suit wasn't a feather suit at all but rather just scratchy feathers attached to this lady.

"you're dinner, kid!" she squawked at you and you did the natural thing; scream your head off.

jason, with his wonderful timing, finally came by and stabbed the harpie, leaving her to disintegrate

"are you oka-"

"WHAT THE FUCK!! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!" you continue to scream, heaving breaths in an attempt to calm yourself down.

jason crouched to your level, tossing his sword behind him and hold his hands out gently

"hey, hey. it's okay, you're okay. i'm- i'm jason. and sorry," he spoke, softly, as you were calming yourself down

tho, his sweet voice was helping

"i'm y/n. i would say nice to meet you but i think you're a murderer so," you replied, eyeing him carefully and looking like you were ready to bolt.

"no, i'm not."

"you know, that's exactly what a murderer would say."

"fair point."

"not helping your case, buddy," you mused, a smile growing on your lips despite the situation. and you could see his lips twitching too, fighting the urge to turn upwards

"how about i explain over gelato? there's a great place a few blocks from here," jason offered, holding his hand out to pull her to her feet.

you chewed your lip in contemplation before taking his hand, the words your mother told you before you left for your trip ringing in your ears

"i mean, romans are hot! nothing quite like an european romance, huh?!"

maybe she was smarter than you gave her credit for

so, jason got you gelato, begrudgingly let you pay as you made a compelling case of 'he saved your life and you owe him.'

and then he explained it all to you, shattering your world view.

"you ever hear of a guy named percy jackson?"

"wait- you mean the twelve year old who blew up like the st. louis arch and a bus or something while traveling across america?? of course i've heard about him, he's like a new york legend!!"

"he's a demigod too. greek, but still."

"no way. you're pulling my leg, right?"

jason shook his head at the girl, who burst into laughter, shaking in her seat

jason couldn't help himself, her laugh infectious and causing him to laugh lightly himself

he knew reyna would have his ass for being out so long, but he couldn't just leave a pretty girl like yourself alone

the sun had set and jason was slowly leading the pair towards new rome, the logical part of himself screaming to get home

now with the warm sun gone, you were starting to get cold

in your defense, you dressed for summer roman sun with your flowy sundress, not cold breezes

without a second thought, jason tugged his denim jacket off and set it on your shoulders

"oh, but you'll be cold-"

"you matter more," jason cut in, instantly, with a charming smile that left you weak in the knees.

you blushed, looking away.

"how about...i keep this and you get this," the girl mused, gesturing to the jacket before reaching up and taking her necklace off and settling it into jason's hand

he inspected the gold necklace, the heart locket charm feeling heavy with age in his hand

he looked up at her with a questioning look and she smiled at him with an all-knowing look in her eyes

"so we can find each other again. i'll have your very warm jacket and you have my necklace. if these fates you speak of are so kind, we'll meet again," she told him and jason laughed lightly, finding her belief loveable

"we'll meet again, jason grace, the kind son of jupiter. i'm sure of it," she added, cupping his face with one hand and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

jason blushed instantly before catching her hand as she tried to pull away, flipping it and pressing his lips to the back of her hand

"I'll wait then, y/n l/n, the darling daughter of your mother. until then," he bid his goodbyes, hearing the girl's laugh in his ears as she walked away.

he wrapped the necklace around his wrist, the chain just long enough to allow the charm to dangle without him being worried of it breaking.

reyna chewed him out, but he took it with a dopey smile

it all felt worth it to him, glancing down at his wrist and feeling that warm feeling of love

years later, jason would glance down at his wrist and feel nothing, riding in a bus to the grand canyon, a million miles away from the home he doesn't remember

and more importantly, a million miles away from a girl he doesn't remember.

he'd make his way to rome, discovering about his life as he went, seeing flashes of a girl in a sundress but nothing solid.

once he was back in new rome and still no memories came, jason took a walk around the city, huffing as he went

he wasn't sure what he did to deserve this, but he thought the fates cruel

"to pluto with them," he huffed as he plopped down on a bench, looking over at the city he was supposed to love but now he wasn't so sure.

"well, if it isn't jason grace, the lovely son of juipiter, if i recall correctly. i believe you have something of mine," a girl's voice called, her regal words barely hiding her excited tone as she halted to a stop and made her way towards jason's bench.

jason turned, inspecting the girl who wore a well loved denim jacket and kind smile

"i'm sorry, do I know you?"

[pink-sparkly-witch]

Just Like This

Summary: Working a second job in a bar to help pay for Sammy’s education, Dean finds a kindred spirit in bar manager Y/N. When a drunk Douchebag gets too handsy with her, Dean quickly jumps to her defence but faces harsh consequences.

Pairing: Bartender!Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Rating: Teen

Bingo Square: Getting Fired for @j3bingo

Warnings: tw: sexual assault (groping), fluff, angst, fighting, minor violence, Chuck is a complete and utter asshole in this, getting fired, quitting in solidarity, first kiss, friends to lovers

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Okay, it feels like an age since I’ve written anything that’s just pure floof. I hope you enjoy this fluffy, protective, besotted Dean fic. Please be kind. I’ve had my angst hat on for a long time, and though this was really refreshing, it’s also a little daunting!

My Masterlist     AO3    Ko-Fi

Consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite, or leave a comment. It really does fuel a creative’s muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and you don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM 💖

It wasn’t the best job in the world, but as part-time work went, Dean knew it could be a hell of a lot worse than this. He worked with his dad in the garage during the day and worked four nights a week and two shifts at the weekend in Shurley’s Sports Bar. His wages and tips went to his dad to help pay for Sammy’s education. Sure, the kid had a full ride to Stanford; however, he still needed to pay for accommodation after freshman year and the thousands of books he needed for his coursework. And at least this way, his dad didn’t put himself in an early grave by working all the hours God gave him. Lord knows he’d done enough of that when they were kids.

Shurley’s was a decent bar. It had a prime location between the University of Kansas campus and downtown, so it always has a steady stream of customers. It quietened during the summer when the students went home or on their travels, but the locals still made trade steady enough. The owner, Chuck, was a bit of a dick, but he barely showed his face around the place, and the other staff were decent, making it a great place to work.

“Hey, Dean,” Y/N said as she came out of the back office. Y/N was the bar manager and a great girl. They had a lot in common; both lost their mothers when they were young and looked after their younger siblings while their fathers worked three jobs to try and make ends meet. Y/N’d had to drop out of college when her father took unexpectedly sick, having to take care of him and her little sister. Now that her father had passed and her sister had a full ride to another prestigious college, Harvard, Y/N lived in the tiny apartment above the bakery where she worked four days a week and in the bar four nights a week and every Saturday night. The rest of the time, she studied part-time to finish her college education and sent every spare cent she had to her sister in Boston.

“Hey, Y/N,” he smiled at her. She was pretty, too, and Dean wasn’t afraid to admit that he had a massive crush on her. Not that anything would ever happen because she was her, and he was… well, he wasn’t good enough for a girl like that. “How are ya, sweetheart?”

“I’m good, Dean. How are you? Oh! Did you manage to get Sam’s apartment sorted?” Y/N asked, and he smiled that she’d remember such a thing.

“Yeah, it’s all good now. We managed to get the rest of the deposit together,” Dean said. “Thanks for the extra shifts, by the way.”

“Don’t mention it,” Y/N smiled. “I still can’t believe landlords can actually do that,” Y/N shook her head as she headed behind the bar and started filling the refrigerators with bottles of beer and wine to prepare for the busy Friday night shift.

“Yeah, us either. But it’s done, and he has somewhere to live,” Dean said as he put the last menus and condiment buckets on the tables. “What needs to be done next, boss?” he asked, smirking when Y/N chuckled. She hated being called that, but he seemed to be the only one she didn’t scold for it.

“I could use a hand changing over the barrels if you’ve got time?” she said, breaking up the cardboard that the bottles had been housed in.

“Sure thing, sweetheart.” Dean headed into the storeroom and started shifting the beer barrels behind the bar as Y/N continued putting bottles in the fridges and replacing the almost empty spirit bottles with full ones to accommodate the busiest night of the year: Friday night football and Freshers Week.

The bar was packed with customers, the warm, sunny weather drawing even more of them in than usual, and of course, Chuck had decided tonight was a good night to show face and ‘help’, putting the staff on edge. Dean had gone with the head down and get on with it attitude, glad it was three deep at the bar so he had an excuse not to have to entertain Chuck for very long.

Y/N had been running around after Chuck all night, finding this paperwork and that invoice and the employee payroll for the past six weeks. Eventually, when he couldn’t possibly ask for anything more, she’d escaped the office, having brazenly told her boss that she was needed front of house to help serve customers.

“I swear,” she’d said as she tied her little black server’s apron around her waist, “It’s like he fucking knew tonight would be the busiest night but still came to check months old paperwork! God, that man is insufferable!”

It wasn’t often that Y/N showed her annoyance, and Dean couldn’t help but think it was cute. Though, admittedly, that could be his crush talking, her furrowed brow and tiny pout were adorable.

“What can I do to help?” he asked as she took her place behind the bar.

“I should be asking you that question!” she giggled. “What do you need me to do?”

“We could do with someone collecting and cleaning the empty glasses, if you wouldn’t mind?” he responded, smiling as she picked up a basket, cleaning spray, and a cloth before he’d finished his sentence.

“You got it,” she winked and headed onto the floor to clear and wipe the tables down. And that, Dean thought, is what makes a good boss. Someone who works with the team to achieve the same goal. Someone who isn’t afraid of stepping in to help by doing the most mundane tasks that are below their pay grade.

Y/N was a breath of fresh air for him in so many ways. She was bubbly and caring, and no matter what was thrown her way, she responded with an air of calmness and dignity that he admired.

“Hey, man. What can I get ya?” Dean asked the next patron, finally taking his eyes off the girl slowly taking over his every thought.

“Be careful,” Dean said as Y/N headed back onto the floor to clear more glasses and tables. “It’s getting rowdy out there. You know what those college boys can be like.”

“Thanks, Dean,” she smiled. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

He knew she would be. He’d seen her handling every kind of drunk customer. Still, he’d watch her closely because he was more worried than usual. The crowd tonight seemed even more enthused thanks to the local sports team playing. It still surprised him how often the female staff got touched inappropriately and had the most vulgar things said to them by too drunk and far too confident men. More than once Dean had had to step in and stop something from going too far, and he’d do it as many times as he needed to for Y/N or any of the other female staff.

Y/N managed to get around most of the bar unscathed, but there was a particularly boisterous table of men who only frequented the bar when the Chiefs played. Dean had been watching them all night because they seemed to have forgotten their age and tried to out-drink their much younger counterparts. They’d already run their mouths off to the bar staff, and now one of them in particular had their beady eye on Y/N as she moved from table to table, collecting empty glasses and bottles.

Swapping her tray out for an empty one, Y/N made her way over to their table, and the second she got close enough, the balding guy with the beady eye was quick to rear his hand back and smack her ass. Dean’s hackles rose, and he was on high alert as he watched her give the douchebag a piece of her mind. But he didn’t stop. Douchebag wrapped his arms around her waist and tried pulling her onto his lap. All the while, his douchebag little friends laughed and cheered him on like he’d won a fucking prize.

Dean saw red as he ran around the bar and strode purposely over to the group of middle-aged men amid a mid-life crisis and pulled Y/N from his hold, dragging her behind him to protect her.

“The lady told you to leave her alone. I suggest you do that,” Dean fumed, only getting angrier at Douchebag’s smirk.

“Oh, ladies and gentlemen, we have a jealous boyfriend trying to protect his girl! You know, if she were my girlfriend, I wouldn’t let her out the house wearing something so…” he paused as he leered up and down Y/N’s body, “revealing.”

“Listen, asshole, you don’t want to piss me off right now. Why don’t you and your buddies call it a night and go home? You’ve clearly had too much to drink, and we don’t take kindly to people assaulting our staff here,” Dean’s jaw was clenched, but he’d somehow managed to keep his voice steady.

“Sorry, man,” Douchebag smirked as he stood. “Just can’t help myself when I see a pretty girl showing off half her body like a Goddamn little tease. She’s asking for it, really.”

That was the last straw, and as Douchebag made one final (and unfortunately successful) attempt to get his hands on Y/N, Dean pulled his fist back and punched him square on the nose. The resounding crack as Dean broke the guy’s nose was satisfying, as were the synchronised grimacing ‘oohs’ that the audience this little corner of the bar had attracted.

“You broke my nose, asshole!” Douchebag spluttered. “I’m reporting you for assault!”

“You do that,” Y/N said, “and I’ll have you arrested, too. This whole bar and the CCTV saw you grope me twice and clearly saw me trying to get you off me! What he did,” she pointed at Dean, “was save me from being sexually assaulted!”

“Come on, man,” one of Douchebag’s friends said, patting him on the back. “Let’s get you to the hospital. It’s not worth it.”

“Damn straight it’s not!” Dean yelled. “Any way you spin this, he doesn’t win, so get the hell out and don’t come back!”

Tail between their legs, Douchebag and his friends left the bar. The second the door shut behind them, Dean was next to Y/N, checking her for injuries.

“I’m fine, Dean,” she insisted, but her eyes told a different story. The encounter had shaken her up, and Dean wanted to fix it, needed to fix it.

“No, sweetheart, you’re not. You’re–” Dean began but was interrupted by the shrill voice of Chuck.

“Winchester, my office, now! You too, Y/N.”

Seeing Y/N sitting beside him on the other side of the desk was strange. This was where she did all the paperwork, payroll, ordering, and invoicing, so to see Chuck on her chair was disconcerting. And not good.

“I don’t know what was going on out there–” Chuck began, and Dean scoffed in disbelief.

“You’re bar manager was sexually assaulted by a customer. That’s what happened!” Dean sat forward on his chair, raising his voice. He only calmed when Y/N placed her hand on his forearm.

Chuck pursed his lips at his outburst and continued speaking as if Dean hadn’t interrupted.

“I don’t know what happened, but whatever it was, sexual assault or not,” Chuck looked pointedly at Y/N before he continued. “It’s no excuse for my staff to behave violently.”

“You have got to be kidding me!” Dean fumed. “That… scumbag… touched her ass and her breasts and tried to force her into his lap! You see those bruises, right?” he asked as he pointed to the dark purple fingerprint marks on her arms.

“Inappropriate comments, slurs, even touching, is to be expected when you work in a bar–” Chuck was interrupted again, this time by Y/N.

“There are no touching policies in every strip club in the country for a reason, Chuck! You cannot expect it to be any different in a fratboy sports bar! No one should go to work expecting that being sexually assaulted is okay!”

“For God’s sake, Y/N! So what a guy touched your ass and tits! You should be flattered!”

“It was sexual assault, Chuck! That guy,” Y/N pointed behind her in the general direction of the bar, “touched me without permission, and I could have him charged! You too with how you’re behaving!”

“Oh, stop being so dramatic! I feel sorry for your boyfriend if this is how prudish you are!”

“Hey, that is–” Dean interjected, but Chuck kept talking.

“Dean, you’re fired. I cannot, and will not, allow a violent brute to work in my bar.”

“You can’t do that!” Y/N protested.

“Watch it, or you’ll be gone, too!” Chuck threatened, but Dean knew it was an empty one with her. He needed her too much. The bar would burn to the ground without her in charge.

“No need. I quit. Effective immediately. I cannot, and will not,” Y/N glared at Chuck as she repeated his words to him, “work in a place where I’m expected to be sexually harassed and assaulted and ignore it. I cannot, and will not, work for a man who fires a good person for helping someone in need.”

Standing, Y/N took off her apron and name tag and threw them on the desk. She unhooked the keys from her belt and pulled the cash box towards her, opening it and pulling out two brown envelopes, handing one to Dean and putting the other in her pocket. Once she’d locked the cash box, she tossed her keys down on the cheap metal desk with a satisfying clang.

“Really? You’re going to quit over him?” Chuck scoffed.

“Yes. Dean is worth a thousand shitty bar jobs like this one, and I’d choose him over any of them in a heartbeat,” Y/N said with her head held high. “I hope you know you’ve just lost your two best workers on the busiest night of the year. Come on, Dean. Let’s get out of this shithole.”

Dean didn’t protest. He stood up, smirked at Chuck because he just couldn’t help himself, and followed Y/N out of the bar and onto the street.

“Sweetheart, you didn’t need to do that. I’m a big boy, and I can look after myself,” Dean said after walking in silence for a few minutes.

“I know you can, and yes, I did. That was unfair and undeserved. Especially because it was my fault,” Y/N responded.

“Hey, don’t ever… it wasn’t your fault. Things like that are never the woman’s fault, you know that, right?” Dean couldn’t believe she’d ever think something like that would be her own doing.

“I know, but if I’d listened to you and let Marcus clear tables instead of me, none of this would’ve happened.”

“No. I won’t hear it. You didn’t ask to be groped by a balding douchebag going through a mid-life crisis, sweetheart. Don’t ever apologise for someone else’s wrongdoing,” he reassured her.

“So, what do we do now? We both kinda needed that job,” Y/N chuckled, but it held no humour.

“Well, I might know a guy who owns a wine bar downtown. A classy establishment, so the tips are better. And we’d be treated right,” Dean said, thinking of the bar Cas had tried to get him to work in for months.

“You have a buddy with a bar, and you chose to stay working in that shithole?” Y/N asked in disbelief. “Why? What would possess you to stay there? Willingly?”

“It wasn’t all bad,” Dean smirked. This wasn’t where he envisioned this conversation going–if it ever happened at all, that is–but the perfect opportunity had presented itself and he’d never forgive himself if he didn’t take it. “I got to see you almost every day.”

“Come on! You did not stay there for me!” Y/N scoffed, and Dean shrugged his shoulders, his lips tugging upwards in a shy smile.

“I did, actually. Can’t think of anyone better to spend so much time with.”

“Dean Winchester,” she grinned. “Are you flirting with me?” The teasing tone in her words was one he’d never heard before, and he liked it.

“Do you want me to be flirting with you?” he’d asked, needing to hear her say it before he did something stupid because he’d misread the signals.

“Yeah… I think I do,” Y/N giggled, stepping closer to him, bumping their arms together as they stepped in sync down the sidewalk.

“Yeah?” he asked, checking again because, quite frankly, she was her and he was him.

“Yeah.”

Dean stopped walking and gently grabbed her forearm to stop her from walking ahead. Feeling brave, Dean placed his hands on her cheeks and dipped his head, slowly lowering his lips to hers. Every inch closer he got, he switched his gaze between her lips and her eyes, making sure this was what she wanted.

When there was no hesitation and nowhere else to go, he closed his eyes and pressed his lips to hers. They were as soft as they always looked, softer even, and tasted as sweet as he’d imagined they would.

Y/N pressed herself closer to him with a low hum and slid her arms up his chest, resting one hand on his pec and the other curling around his neck. Dean licked her bottom lip, encouraging her to open her mouth and let him deepen their kiss.

He failed to hold back a groan when his tongue met hers, the feeling so much better than anything his mind could’ve conjured up. Dean couldn’t remember how long he’d wanted this, and now that it was happening, he knew he’d do whatever he could to keep her in his arms, just like this.

Tags: @acitygrownwillow @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @maliburenee @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @nelachu2423 @octoberclidan @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnbaby-67 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567 @winchestergirl1720

[beardedjoel]

closer | part three

joel x f!reader. non-apocalypse au.

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3  

chapter summary: you try and avoid joel after your awkward kiss the other day, but it doesn’t take long for him to reel you right back in. 5.2k words.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, age difference (joel is 42 and reader is 25), inexperienced reader, joel being a menace, more flirting, it’s gonna go DOWN next chapter, reader wears a cropped shirt and jean shorts, reader is described only as having hair

a/n: i hope you are all enjoying this so far! i’m so sorry this chapter definitely ends on a bit of an evil cliffhanger <3

You’re officially hiding from Joel. You realize you’re a grown woman and should be acting more mature about this, but you can’t seem to help the embarrassment that you feel when you even think about seeing him again. You wonder what he must think of you - just some silly girl, afraid of a fucking kiss, that’s what he’s got to think. 

You’ve done everything you can think of to stay out of his sight for the last day, although you haven’t noticed any activity over at his house this morning, so it’s safe to assume he’s working today. 

The only interaction you’ve had with him was when you thought you’d caught his eye after you came out of your shower yesterday, wrapped in only a towel. You thought better of it, but you couldn’t help the little power trip that having him see you naked through your window gave you the last time. So, pretending you don’t see him, you drop the towel, parading around your apartment looking for something to wear for the day. You know it was probably too far away for him to see if you made eye contact, but you were careful to not look in his direction too much and give yourself away. You’d left the house with a smug smile, wanting to gain back a little of the power you felt you lost when you’d embarrassed yourself.

You try to keep yourself busy - starting your day with some shopping that’s supposed to be for your new apartment in Austin when you find one, but it ends up turning into clothes shopping, or more specifically, underwear shopping. You bite the inside of your lip, holding up different pairs of sexy underwear, tilting your head as you look at them. Sure, you own plenty of pairs already, but you’re feeling the urge to add to your collection, trying to convince yourself it has nothing to do with Joel despite the passing thoughts wondering which color he’d like to see on you. You decide to call Sofia, your best friend from back in Chicago while you’re ambling through the air conditioned stores, trying to stay out of the house as long as possible. 

“So, if I’m hearing you right, you’re telling me that you're embarrassed because you two kissed? Didn’t you want to kiss him?” Sofia says into your ear, sounding incredulous.

“Ugh, it’s not that. It’s that I fucking jumped when he tried to put his hand on my ass, like some teenage virgin or something,” you groan. 

“I think you’re overthinking it,” she tells you, “Like, it sounds like he was understanding, right?”

“I don’t know, I think so. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me, I just get crazy when I’m around him. I wish you could just see him and understand what I’m talking about.”

“Yeah, first of all, I can’t believe you haven’t taken any sneaky pics of him for me yet - it’s truly offensive as your best friend that you haven’t shown me apparently the hottest man alive yet,” Sofia starts, and you laugh. “Secondly, I think you need to just… move on from being embarrassed about it. I know that sounds harsh, but seriously, it sounds like he’s into you.”

“I don’t know… how could he be?” you muse, feeling insecure. You’ve just been unable to see what Joel could find alluring in you when he could have someone more put together, more attractive, less shy around him, the list goes on. 

“You’re kidding me… you’re young, you’re hot, and did you already forget the part where he kissed you back and tried to grab your ass?”

You laugh. “Okay, you do have a point, Soph.”

“Of course I do. You’d better get back over there and kiss him again, and don’t even think about texting me or calling me again until you do,” she says, and you scoff in fake hurt. “Okay, not that last part, just kiss him, but please update me every 10 seconds because I miss you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I miss you too,” you say to her with a chuckle, before you wrap up your conversation, knowing she’s right, that it’s really not that big of a deal. You just hate how you feel like you’re constantly embarrassing yourself in front of Joel. By now, it’s the early evening, and you’ve managed to stay away for most of the day, avoiding both Joel and your own thoughts with some good old retail therapy and talking to Sofia. 

You take your dinner outside, a grilled cheese and chips, your favorite summer meal since you were a kid, and sit down on a lounge chair. You sit cross legged with your plate and book in front of you, taking in the way the heat of the day has finally turned into that perfect, comfortable evening temperature. You see no sign of Joel, no lights on at his house, and decide to enjoy a few moments of solitude knowing he can’t spot you right now. You get completely lost in your reading, one of the few reprieves you have these days, so you fail to notice lights flickering on next door until a loud, rumbling laugh catches your attention.

You feel like a deer in headlights as you peer over at the source of the noise and see Joel emerging out of his back door, someone trailing closely behind him. He’s wearing what looks like work clothes, although you haven't seen him dress in a whole lot other than t-shirts and jeans, and he has a six pack of beer in one hand. The other man next to him bears some resemblance, the same dark hair and tan skin, although he has a more boy-ish appearance than Joel does, and you assume it’s his brother that he’d mentioned, Tommy. 

You don’t know if you should move, run, or hide - a real classic flight or… flight situation. Luckily, it seems like Joel is occupied enough with his brother’s visit that his eyes haven’t made it over in your direction at all. You wonder if there’s an occasion, or they’re just having an after work beer, which you somehow find endearing, like everything else he does. They sit down on Joel’s patio table, supposed-Tommy sitting across from Joel, facing your direction. Good, this is good, you think, he doesn’t know who you are, so why would you catch his attention? You’re still trying to decide your next move, but find seeing Joel is a distraction from even that. You decide to try and sneak away without being noticed

“Hey,” Joel says, calling your name with a wave as you’re halfway up the stairs to your apartment. You groan internally, and grimace slightly before turning around. You’ve been spotted, and feel you have no choice but to engage now. You make it to the fence line between your yards, realizing you’re still awkwardly holding your empty dinner plate and book, and that combined with seeing Joel, turned around in his chair, looking at you, makes you already want to sprint away.

“Hi…” you say, trying to speak up but finding it hard right now.

“This is my brother, Tommy, the one I was tellin’ you about,” Joel says, and there’s something different about his voice, but you can’t quite place it yet. You furrow your brow, but then relax your face, not wanting to be rude. Tommy gives a little glance at you, and then Joel, as if trying to piece together why we’d been talking about him.

“Howdy,” Tommy says with a wave and a friendly smile. At the least, he seems disarming enough that your nerves are settled a bit.

“You joinin’ us for a beer, or what?” Joel says, and that’s when you place it. Joel’s is drunk, or at least tipsy. You think they must have had some beers prior to the six pack they’ve just started drinking. You’re not sure what to do with this information, how to feel about it, but you’re intrigued to see this side of Joel. Tommy, completely unaware of your pain, gives you a hopeful smile, urging you to come over. 

“Um, yeah, sure,” you say, and the nervous pit that’s been living in your stomach for days lurches. You want to forget the other day happened, just be normal around Joel, and think that maybe having a drink could be a good start. “Hang on,” you add, holding a finger up before you run up to your apartment, discarding your plate and book, and run back out, not before double checking how you look in the mirror. You scowl a little, feeling like you look spent from your recent sleep deprivation.

You join them a few moments later, awkwardly settling yourself down into one of the chairs. Tommy pulls a bundle of keys out of his pocket, using his bottle opener keychain to crack open one of the beers and starts handing it in your direction before suddenly stopping.

“Wait. You old enough to drink this?” he asks, eyeing you suspiciously. You laugh, not entirely sure if you should feel flattered by the comment. If anything, it makes you feel even more self conscious about the kiss you and Joel shared, your cheeks warm and buzzing just at the memory.

“Oh, yeah, of course. I’m 25,” you respond, and you can see Joel’s gaze shoot over to you as the number comes out of your mouth. You knew he had to have been wondering your age, and while you assumed he had a likely guess, he’s never asked you directly. Tommy gives over the beer to you with a smile now, asking your name. You tell him and he tries to make casual conversation.

“So, I see you and my brother have gotten acquainted then. New neighbors?”

“Kind of,” you say, and you explain the situation with your parents to him.

Tommy laughs, looking over at Joel. “Imagine one of us, doin that with Mom and Dad… whew, we’d have gone crazy. They’re lucky they’ve got a good daughter like you,” he says kindly, and you decide you rather like Tommy now that you’ve met him. He has a welcoming, warm energy that you’re extra appreciative of right now.

Joel chuckles at his brother’s comment, looking between the both of you. “She’s an angel, this one,” Joel says, his gaze landing on you again, and giving a small wink. You smirk and humbly bow your head at their comments. Mostly, you need to get out of seeing Joel’s piercing brown eyes looking at you. 

Tommy continues to ask you questions about your life - your time in college, growing up in San Antonio, what kind of hobbies you have. He’s a fun conversationalist, and he makes you feel listened to, looking at you with interest at every answer you throw at him. You manage to squeeze in a few questions of your own, but it seems like Tommy is more interested in hearing about you. Joel is mostly sitting back, listening, laughing here and there and throwing in some of his own comments. But every time you look over at him, it’s as if he’s just… absorbing you with his eyes, hanging on every word you’re saying about yourself. His stare is intimidating in its own way, and you find yourself equally averting it but unable to keep peeking over at him.

You’re now about two beers deep and can feel the light, warm feeling of it coursing through you. This isn’t so bad, after all, you think - you can totally be normal around Joel after your awkward, embarrassing encounter the other day. You’re lulled into a sense of security, enjoying this evening with the Miller brothers, watching them bicker here and there and just letting the conversation flow naturally. They both have a little color on their cheeks as they laugh hard at some inside joke and memory, your smile growing just at seeing how hard they’re laughing - it’s adorable, you think to yourself with a huge grin.

Your parents must have let Benny out in the yard, because he catches Tommy’s attention as he runs over to the fence line and barks at you, probably wondering what the hell you’re doing over there, and not at home with him.

“Now who’s that cute fella?” Tommy asks you, smiling at Benny wagging his tail and panting by the fence.

“That’s Benny, my parents’ dog,” you tell him.

“Ah…” Tommy says, looking over at Joel knowingly, then right at you. “So you’re the reason my brother was late the other day,” he says with a smirk. You are in the middle of sipping your beer, and you immediately choke at Tommy’s words, the bottle falling out of your hands as you cough. It lands on the table with a loud thud, beer going everywhere - on your clothes, on the table, even some spitting out of your mouth as you choke.

“Oh shit,” you yell out in between coughs, quickly jumping up and standing back, seeing the beer dripping off of you, a large puddle on the table. You’re suddenly very aware of just how tipsy you are from the almost two drinks you’ve had - you forget how much of a lightweight you are sometimes. “S-sorry,” you say, trying to brush some of the liquid off of your arms and shirt, but you just end up making a bigger mess.

Tommy and Joel jump up with little chuckles, quickly ready to begin cleaning up the mess. “S’alright darlin’,” Joel says quickly, “Bathroom’s inside and down to the left, why don’t you go clean yourself up a bit,” he suggests to you, while he and Tommy get to work cleaning the mess with the beach towel he still had outside from the other day when you two got caught in the rain.

You rush off into the house, beer dripping off of you, barely bothering to inspect Joel’s house despite desperately wanting to. The sun has gotten much lower in the sky since you arrived over at Joel’s, so his house is relatively dark, and you search down the hallway clumsily, finding your way to the bathroom. Once the light is on, you blink a few times to adjust, and quickly grab the nearest towel, dabbing your arms dry. It’s not much use, considering your clothes are pretty well soaked, but you wet the towel and try wiping your shirt down a bit anyway. You take a few extra moments to calm yourself, feeling slightly dizzy from the alcohol and the way Joel has been stealing glances at you all evening. One more deep breath and you decide you’ll leave the bathroom, excuse yourself, and head back home to shower and change. Does Tommy know? Your brain is running off with the idea quickly before even having all of the information. Maybe he just meant the part about Joel’s injury, but you can’t help but picture that little smirk he had on his face. Fuck, you can’t stay, you can’t take it anymore, being around Joel like this after knowing what it felt like to kiss him, having Tommy seeming to know about it.

You open the door, steady your feet slightly, and turn down the hallway, and Joel is standing in the shadows, waiting for you. It causes you to jump a little, seeing his broad form just standing, leaning a shoulder against the wall.

“Oh, uh, I can grab some more towels, to help clean up,” you offer, unsure of what he’s trying to do right now, but Joel doesn’t seem to hear you or care, and he approaches you quickly, crowding his body close to you and you end up with your back against the nearest wall. Joel is standing practically up against you, but his hands are still at his sides. He’s trying so hard not to touch you, to grab your hips and pull them against his. to cup your face and crash his mouth into yours. Fuck, he’d said to himself that he was going to let you come to him, but he can’t help it as his hand twitches towards you. 

“You’ve been avoidin’ me, pretty girl,'' Joel says, and he’s slurring a little. He didn’t seem that drunk to you, maybe just buzzed, enough that he’s coming off slightly different than normal. Hearing him call you ‘pretty girl’ sends you speechless, as his pet names always seem to do.

“I - I -“ you stutter, unsure of how to answer. You have been avoiding him, but don’t know how to tell him that, since it seems childish now that you’re faced with it. His large body is pressed so close to yours and you desperately want to lean into it, your mind scrambling completely at the proximity of him. 

“S’okay, sweet girl,” he slurs, sending another pulse of desire through you with another new pet name. His hands slowly come up and rest on your waist, the feeling of his strong hands wrapped around either side of you sends what feels like a jolt of electricity through you.

”I just can’t stay away… said I would, but look at you,” he says, letting his tipsy brain spill all his thoughts as he looks down at you, glancing up and down your body and resting his eyes on your face. “Just tell me what you want, ‘cause I know what I want,” he says teasingly, his voice going lower. 

“And… What do you want?” you finally muster the courage to ask him, lifting your eyes to search his face. You find his dark eyes staring back, lustful and heavy lidded. You gulp down the excited, panicky feeling you seem to continuously get around him and feel your stomach churning with desire.

Joel hums low, the sound deep and suggestive, followed by a small chuckle, pressing his forehead to yours delicately. One hand reaches up from your waist and gently touches your arm, and you can tell he’s holding back, practically restraining himself as his breathing quickens along with your own. 

“You need me to say it?” Joel asks, “Need to hear me say what I wanna do to you?” He groans a little, his hands tightening on your hip and your arm where he’s holding them, pulling you a bit closer to him. 

Your breath catches in your throat a little and you don’t know when, but you’ve started shaking slightly with anticipation. You feel the familiar aching between your legs once Joel’s body is pressed even closer to yours. You can smell the beer and the musk of him as you lean your head slightly, causing your nose to nudge his as you nod slightly, awaiting his answer. You’re curious to know exactly what he wants to do to you, and in fine detail. 

Joel takes a breath in to answer, but a sound from down the hallway towards the kitchen takes you both out of the moment - someone clearing their throat. You gasp and try to leap back from Joel, but the wall is right there, still leaving you at Joel’s mercy. Joel pulls back, but only slightly, as if he doesn’t care that Tommy is standing right there, watching all of this.

“Just came for some paper towels, but I see I’m… interrupting something,” Tommy says cooly, and his tone isn’t like you’d heard before, it’s much less warm and genial. He’s upset, you realize, and you think maybe he has every right to be, knowing how young you are compared to his brother.

“I- I’m so sorry,” you mumble, and to whom you’re apologizing, you’re not even sure. You start to slide out from under Joel’s form, still so dangerously close to you, and his hand falls from your arm, letting you go. “I should, I should go…” you mumble as you brush past him and start rushing towards Tommy to cut through the kitchen to the back door. You stop abruptly, awkwardly near Tommy and without looking him in the eyes, say, “It was nice meeting you,” before making a beeline for the back door. What the fuck had just happened? you think to yourself over and over as you burst through the door to your apartment, standing with your back against it for several moments to try and collect yourself.

“Jesus Christ, Joel, I was joking about her being the reason you were late,” Tommy chides, leaning back against the counter in Joel’s kitchen. “I didn’t realize… whatever the hell that was… was going on.”

Joel sighs, running a hand down his face, his buzz quickly wearing off at his younger brother’s scolding. “Tommy, it’s not anything. I’m gonna need you to mind your damn business for once in your life,” Joel retorts, feeling frustration rising up quickly in his chest.

“Right, just forget I saw that? She’s 25, Joel.” Tommy sets down the beer he was holding on the counter next to him and crosses his arms.

“It’s not that big of a deal, she’s just sweet on me, I think. I was a little drunk and she was… just there,” Joel replies, knowing his argument is weak, falling apart by the minute.

“And so you’re just, what? Egging her on for the fun of it? It ain’t a game, Joel.” Tommy’s tone is getting more serious, gearing up for an argument with his brother.

“God damn it, I realize that, Tommy,” Joel says, his voice rising dramatically. Tommy cocks his head, his eyebrows drawn, studying his brother as the realization begins to dawn on him.

“You don’t… Joel tell me you don’t have feelings for her.” Tommy sighs, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

“You don’t think I know it’s wrong? That I wanna be with someone nearly twenty years younger? Fucking hell, brother, I know it.”

“Shit…” Tommy says simply, at a loss for words right now. They stand in an awkward silence, Joel shifting from one leg to another, unsure of where to even go next with this conversation.

“Look, I’ve been trying. To avoid it, that is. Really hard, I’m trying…” Joel trails off, and Tommy looks over at him again, a softer look in his eyes now that he’s coming down from his anger.

“But…” Tommy urges him on.

“Seems you already know. Don’t know if I can stop seein’ her,'' Joel shrugs.

“Listen, you know I’ve done my fair share of stupid shit in my life so I’m not one to talk. She’s a sweet gal, though, and you shouldn’t be fuckin’ around with her like that.”

Joel sighs even more deeply. “I know you aren’t gonna believe me when I say this, but… I want to treat her right, Tommy. It’s not a game to me, swear.”

Tommy looks over at his brother skeptically. Sure, he believes his brother, but can Joel really follow through on that? He isn’t so sure. “My advice? Stay away from her,” Tommy says with finality, taking another swig from his beer. 

“Good thing I didn’t ask for your advice,” Joel says quickly, narrowing his eyes at him. 

“Why do you care so much, Joel? You don’t need to be messing with a young girl’s life, drag her into your shit.”

“First off, it seems she’s interested in me, and she knows she’s not my age, she ain’t stupid. She can make her own decisions.” Joel crosses his arms and stares his brother down.

“And secondly…?”

“She’s a sweet girl, kind, funny, and…beautiful, of course, but that’s besides the point, I think. Somethin’ about her… I can’t explain, Tommy.”

“So it’s more than just wanting to fuck her?” Tommy says, still suspicious of Joel’s intentions.

“I don’t know yet, if I’m honest,” Joel starts, scratching the back of his neck. “I think so. But we haven’t…” Joel admits before he can stop himself, feeling a little color creep onto his cheeks. Tommy sighs again, his frustration still palpable, but he breaks a little bit.

“Jesus, Joel,” Tommy breathes out, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If you’re not going to listen to me, just be careful, please?”

“I will,” Joel says firmly, and he means it. He doesn’t have any intention of hurting you, or messing with your life. He does want to fuck you, very badly, in fact, but he’s pretty sure it’s more than that at this point - he wants to spend time with someone sweet like you, someone who is kind and generous and loving. He’s found during the conversations this evening that he’s more attracted to you than even he realized, and he knows that Tommy is right, he’s completely fucked up for wanting to be with you like that. He knows deep down that his brother’s advice is sound, but after seeing you giggling all evening at their jokes, hearing the passion with which you talk about your hobbies and life, getting close enough to breathe in your delicious scent again, he knows he’s absolutely doomed. There’s no staying away from you.

Mortified doesn’t even begin to cover it. You want nothing more than to hide away forever, and yes, you realize you’re being dramatic, but having Tommy walk in on you and Joel all over each other wasn’t how you’d wanted to end your evening. You practically felt like you’d gone home with your tail between your legs, and you’ve been moping around for the last hour after you’d showered the beer off and changed into your pajamas. A quiet knock on your door before it opens alerts you, and you look up from your bed to see your mother coming in.

“Sorry to bother you, honey,” she starts, stepping tentatively into the room. You sit up on the bed and try to give her your best smile.

“No, that’s alright, mom, what’s up?” you say, your own voice coming out a bit strained sounding to you. She eyes you a little suspiciously, but decides to continue on.

“Just wanted to say hi,” she says, smiling at you, and you realize you’ve been so preoccupied with your own shit that you’ve barely bothered to check in on them when they are home from work. “And I’d just meant to say thank you the other day for fixing that cabinet. You know it was driving me nuts,” she says, straightening up some pillows and blankets on the couch before sitting down. You pause for a moment, debating on what Joel had said about you taking credit, but it felt… awkward to lie about. 

“Actually, it was uh, Joel… Miller from next door,” you admit sheepishly, worried about any follow up questions she might have. You’re not a great liar, and you worry she would see right through you if you tried to hide the way just talking about him makes you giddy, despite the conflict regarding him raging through you right now.

“Oh?” she says, urging you to continue with her head tilting. Your mom’s eyebrows are raised, and she looks absolutely enraptured by what you’re going to say next. She’s a sucker for random acts of kindness, you know. 

“He saw me trying to fix the gate, and then asked if there was anything else we needed help with, so… yeah. He works as a contractor, I guess, so he knew what he was doing. Unlike me.” Your face lights up a little just talking about him but the room is dimly lit enough you think it might hide it from her.

“We’ll have to thank him. That’s awfully nice, isn’t it?” your mom says with a smile, suddenly getting up. “Let me make him something, some cookies, oh, or a pie, and you can bring it over,” she rambles mostly to herself, already halfway to the door to put her plan to action. You groan - she is absolutely insane, thinking about making a whole pie at seven thirty in the evening, you think, rolling your eyes. The thought quickly strikes you that it would be a good excuse to see Joel again if you had a reason to go over to his place, and your heart rate picks up a bit. Maybe it would help, you think, if you were able to just try and talk things out with him. You haven’t stopped thinking about the question he’d asked you earlier - to tell him what you want. 

You think you finally have your answer. You know exactly what you want, and you’re pretty sure that you’re feeling brave enough to tell him tonight. You’re tired of hiding, of feeling too embarrassed to even look at him. You need things to progress one way or another, you decide.

You follow your mom back to the main house, helping her in the kitchen, and about thirty minutes later she has fresh chocolate chip cookies out of the oven and is plating them up with you. Your mother never ceases to amaze you when she gets into a mood like this - she’s one of the most efficient people you’ve ever met. She hands you the cookies with a smile, urging you to go deliver them now. 

“It’s kind of late, don’t you think?” you ask, wanting to make sure you don’t seem too eager.

She frowns a little as she glances at the clock. “I don’t know…” she says, and you can see the familiar overthinking anxiety taking over her instantly.

“That’s alright, mom, I got this. I’ll just run them over right now, I think he stays up kind of late, I’ve seen him out in the yard past eight o'clock before,” you reassure her, half for your own reasons, you think with a hint of guilt.

“Oh, good, thank you, honey,” your mom replies, a relieved grin coming over her face. “I just want to make sure we get off to a good start with our neighbors.” You almost laugh, thinking she doesn’t have to worry about that too much with the things you’re hoping to do with him.

“I’ll probably head back to the apartment and get some sleep after, so we’ll talk tomorrow, okay?” you tell her. You want to have an excuse if in case, and the thought alone makes you want to squeal, anything happens that keeps you at Joel’s longer than they’d expect you to be there. 

You leave out the back door, quickly rushing up to your apartment to change your clothing and get ready. You put on your favorite cropped tank top, tight around your chest, and it’s in a blue color that you think looks great on you. You choose your shortest pair of jean shorts for the bottom of your ensemble, feeling a little ridiculous putting on as little clothing as possible for him. You rush to your mirror, tousling your hair a bit to make sure it looks in place. You can’t believe you’re doing this for what’s supposed to be a quick visit, but you dab on a bit of makeup - some mascara and a hint of blush, just to give you a fresh look. You take a deep breath and smooth your hair one more time before leaving down the stairs, making your way to the front of Joel’s house. You have to do this before you lose your nerve, you think to yourself, mentally urging your shaking hand forward. You inhale one more time before knocking on the door, feeling your stomach flipping with anticipation as it starts to open.

[wukong-s-only-wife5000]

Hey I hope your doing well! I just wanted to say that I loved how you wrote my Request, and I’d like to show the boy some more love so can I Request First Date for Lego Monkie Kid Macaque? Have a fantastic day btwsss👋🏼👋🏼✨

First Date: Macaque.

Word Count: 2494.

Rating: Fluff.

Content/Trigger Warnings: N/A.

Authors Notes: Say.less. This came out way longer than I expected yet left rushed? Hope you enjoy it!

____________________________________________________________________

“You're here early,” the voice scared you… it felt like a déjà vu moment, but you shook it off and focused on him. 

“I didn't wanna be late,” you looked at the emo monkey boy in human form and smiled a bit. 

He wore his usual puppet master outfit, but something about it this time seemed more… well-kept? Groomed, even? Right now, he had the hood down. Like last time, he looked a bit weird to you since you were more used to seeing the emo monkey boy and not emo human boy. He was handsome nonetheless, though.

“You look gorgeous,” he said as he got a look at you and you to him.

“So do you,” you said without thinking and smiled nervously. “I mean, handsome, you-”

“It’s okay,” he cut you off with a chuckle. “Thank you.”

“R-right… so, what do you have in store for me tonight?” you smiled up at him. He just stared at you with a small smile of his own before his mind finally caught up to him.

“Right, well,” he chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Well, you said that you wanted it to be a shadow play… so, I, um…” he cleared his throat. “I made one for you.”

“You… made one for me? Like from scratch?” you asked in both shock and curiosity.

Your entire face felt hot from the blush that took over when he said that. You’d never expect that he or anyone would make something like a play script just for you, granted this would be the second time he did. It was definitely unexpected and most flattering if you were being completely honest.

“May I?” he asked. You looked at his hand he held out for you, that charming yet mischievous smile made your heart race as you placed your hand in his.

“You may,” you replied with a small smile.

“Are you scared, (Y/n)?” he mused a bit.

“Me? Scared? Pft- don't be ridiculous,” you waved him off, which made him chuckle as he led you inside.

“Date never killed anyone,” he chuckled.

“You haven't watched enough horror movies,” you teased him. 

The theatre room was empty as he led you to and sat you down front and centre. Before you could question him on whether or not he rented out the room for just you two, he put his hood up and the lights dimmed a bit.

“Ladies and gentlemen… tonight, you're all in for a treat,” you looked at him in question before you noticed there were people in the room; you were the only one in the front. You were sure it was empty before, though, but you shook it off and zeroed in on Macaque.

“This story was made for the gorgeous creature in the front row,” he gestured to you with a grin, which made you shift a bit as people watched you. You gave him the ‘I'll kill you later’ eyes, but his grin only grew wider as his head lowered to cover his face except his mouth.

This story had everything you loved: action, mystery, tragedy, romance. It felt unlike him, but at the same time, how he told the story was breathtaking and had many on the edge of their seats. The main character was a heroine who fell in love with the villain and changed him… only for the villain to lose his life while saving her. 

The story had ended with the heroine marrying the villain who had actually faked his death in order to keep her safe from his enemies. It was an entire rollercoaster of emotions and maybe because it was written for you that you were more invested in the story than you normally would be. He took your breath away and his smile when he saw how much you were enjoying it shone brighter than Wukong. 

“Did you like it?” was the first thing he asked once everyone left, and he walked over to you.

“I loved it,” you smiled up at him. “I never would have thought that the Six Eared Macaque would be this good at writing,” you teased, which successfully made him all bashful and shy.

“I'm glad you liked it,” he chuckled a bit and sat to your left as he shifted back to his emo monkey form. “To be honest… I kinda made up the last part.”

“You mean you killed off the villain?!” you gasped dramatically and nudged him playfully with your shoulder. “You monster… how could you,” you said dramatically, which made him laugh a bit.

“But I saved him, don't hit me for that,” he chuckled as he put his hands up in mock surrender. 

“It was still pretty good, though,” you smiled, looking ahead at the stage. “You must really enjoy doing these.”

“It’s just a hobby,” he shrugged a bit. 

“Don't think you can try to be all indifferent now,” you looked at him with a smile and nudged him.

“Fine, fine… it's a hobby that I really like,” he admitted. “Especially now that I have a fan,” he looked at you with a small smirk.

“Oh really? And who said anything about me being your fan, hm?” you teased as you folded your arms.

“I had a pretty good hunch,” he said confidently. “You wouldn't have suggested our date be a shadow play if you didn't really like it… so you're obviously a fan of mine.”

“Fine, maybe I think that your shadows are pretty cool,” you smiled a bit to yourself. “I really like how well you use them to tell your stories.”

“I appreciate that,” he looked at you. 

Your smiles never seemed to disappear when you were around each other. Neither of you had ever smiled so much at anyone, especially Macaque. Yet, being with you like he was now… it brought him an odd sense of peace and made his insides and outsides feel warm and fuzzy, I mean, forgetting that he is fuzzy.  

“What do you wanna do now?” you asked without even thinking.

“Well, I could show off a bit more,” he said as he let a shadow clone appear on your right, which scared you at first. 

“Do you get cold easily?” you asked.

“I'm covered in fur, (Y/n),” he mused.

“Touché,” you shrugged as you stood up. 

You tried to ignore how cool you thought the clone was so as to not fill up his ego by letting him know how cool you thought it was. Sure, you'd seen Wukong’s clones a lot before, but that never meant that you always thought it was amazing every single time! I mean… they made clones! Yes, you have abilities too, but this wasn't about you.

“Did you want to go somewhere?” his voice brought you back to reality.

“We can go for a walk to the park, there was a full moon out,”

“Do you like the moon?” he asked with a small smile. You were too adorable for words.

“A lot,” you grinned a bit.

“Let's go for a walk, then,” he made his clone disappear into the dark void before he stood up and opened his hand again for yours. “(Y/n),”

“Yes?” you asked softly.

“Can I hold your hand while we walk?” he asked in a gentle tone that made your heart want to explode.

“Mhm,” you nodded. 

That was all you could get out as he took your hand and led you out through the back exit. Your insides were on fire, but he wasn't any different. He didn't know where that courage came from, but he was glad that he asked. Your hand was small, but it felt so warm and though it wasn't very soft. It was between smooth and rough, which showed you were a hard worker and he loved that about you.

The walk down the alley to the streets was as quiet as the night before when you waited for the others to arrive… which they never did, by the way.

“Be honest with me, Macaque,” you glanced up at him.

“Sure,” he gave a nod, curious of what you wanted his honesty on.

“Did you do something to MK and the others to make them not show up yesterday?” you raised a brow. He laughed a bit and lifted your hand he was holding to kiss the back of it.

“Guilty,” he confessed, which made you laugh a bit, not minding the hand kiss even though your heart never seemed to slow down.

“What’d you do?” you asked in amusement.

“Let's just say… I called in a few favours,” he grinned at you.

“You didn't!” you laughed. “No wonder Wukong was so pissed off.”

“Well, when I heard you were coming too, I wanted to take the chance to talk to you in private,” he confessed as he looked at you. “Of course, you know that if our buddy Wukong was there, he’d have made sure I was in another theatre entirely.”

“Point taken,” you smiled a bit. “Were you really that desperate to get me alone?” you teased.

“Talking to you in person is way better than talking on the phone or texting,” he stated.

“I guess,” you chuckled and shook your head. “Such a trickster.”

“Guilty again,” he chuckled as he let go of your hand and instead wrapped his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer. “This okay?”

“Y-Yeah… it’s fine,” you said softly, face bright from all the blood rushing to your full cheeks. He smelled so good, like pinewood and some amazing cologne. His body was so warm and the fur on his wrist tickled the skin of your arm.

“You were shivering a bit,”

“No I wasn't,” you looked up at him with a smile.

“Guess my eyes aren't what they used to be,” he joked.

“Real smooth, emo boy,”

“Emo boy?” he mused.

“Yeah, emo boy,” you looked at him with a slight grin.

“If you're calling me that, then I'm freely calling you plum,” he shot back.

“Macaque,” you said, which made him chuckle.

“Nah, I'm still calling you plum,” he stated with a slight shrug before he pulled you closer to him.  

“Fine,” you sighed softly. If he was anything like Wukong, he wasn't going to stop calling you that. 

“Wasn't as long as I thought,” he smirked, referring to when you told him having nickname rights would take a long, long time.

“Hey, look,” he leaned down to whisper in your ear. “It really is a full moon,” he said and pointed to the empty sky.

You didn't know when you got to the park, mostly distracted by Macaque and his voice and his body close to yours. The view of the night sky from the park was breathtaking, you mentally thanked yourself for suggesting it. 

The rest of the night was spent with his arms wrapped securely around you to ‘keep you warm’ even though it wasn't exactly cold out. You didn't want it to end, but he didn't want to keep you outside too late. 

“I don't think I can teleport…” you glanced away with a small pout. Macaque smiled a bit at your adorable behaviour. 

“Oh really?” he mused. “Do you want me to teleport you, then?”

“Yes, please,” you looked at him with an eager grin and a childish glint in your eyes.

“I don't know, plum…” he tried to play hard to get. “It might be dangerous~”

“Danger is my middle name!” you declared, which made him laugh.

“Alright, alright, I won't make you beg,” he chuckled. “But, this transportation isn't free,”

“Oh, really?” you mused as you folded your arms. “What's the fee?”

“One kiss for one portal,” he said as he looked down at you with a small smirk.

“W-What?” you stuttered slightly, not expecting it but not surprised either.

“What? I'm sure a beautiful woman such as yourself has kissed someone before,”

“Of course I have! But that isn't the problem,” you said defensively. Sure you've kissed people in your long life… but this felt different for some reason.

“What is the problem?” he raised a brow, his smile never wavered.

“Well…” you trailed off, not really knowing what to say.

“How about… since it’s our first official date, I give you a small kiss,” he suggested. “Sound good?”

“Okay,” you nodded, you were sure you hadn't stopped blushing since he asked to hold your hand back at the theatre.

“Great…” he held that same hand while his other hand held your chin. “Can I kiss you, (Y/n)?”

“Yes…” your voice was soft, your eyes locked onto each other like you were the only beings in the universe.

“Alright,” he smiled a bit before he leaned in close, placing a kiss on your forehead before he pulled back and let your hand go. You were… flabbergasted. You never expected that… 

That tease!  You thought to yourself as you looked at him as he stretched and cracked his knuckles.

“It’s really late,” he looked at you with that cocky smirk. “I’ll need your address.”

“Oh… right,” you nodded and gave it to him, you were surprised that he knew the area.

“If you're scared, I can go with you,”

“Nope,” you shook your head as he opened the portal. Your heart was beating too fast all night for you to think about him being in your home… Alone with you. 

“Suit yourself,” he struggled with a chuckle. “If you're scared, you can close your eyes and jump in,”

“Okay…” you nodded… only for him to move it below you. “Jerk!” you yelled before you fell in and, thankfully, landed on your couch. You stared ahead and cupped your heated cheeks. “Stupid emo monkey,” you puffed your cheeks a bit before your left hand moved to touch where he kissed…

That dork… you smiled a bit to yourself.

He teleported you to your place with a smile, but when the portal closed, he frowned. He held up the hand that held onto yours most of the walk and narrowed his eyes at it. It felt cold now, his body felt cold, and he hated it. He mostly hated himself for opening his big mouth and sending you home. He hated himself for being this hung up on you… but he would never trade the feeling you gave him for the world. He wanted to be selfish and let you stay with him till the sun came up…

His fingers lifted to touch his lips and a small smirk formed. The warm touch of your skin still felt tingly against his lips, he wished he’d kissed your lips, but that was for another time. You were so nervous, and he didn't want to do something that would make you uncomfortable. He had to be patient with this and go slow… thankfully, he was a very patient emo monkey.

Silly plum…  he mused to himself.

[anurst]

Girl Bradshaw

Summary: memories of Russia start to resurface and you decided to take a step and talk to Pete. How does he react?

Pairing(s): jake seresin x (fem)(bradshaw) reader

Warning(s): language, PTSD, nightmares, daddy issues, absent father figure, violence/abuse against reader (don't read if you're not comfortable with violence/abuse)

Part 5: Tears for the father

It's cold. So very cold. Your body's shivering and your undergarments do little to provide you warmth. You don't know much time has passed and you feel your body fading. Shit, you want to be back in Oceanside with everyone. You want to be eating Mexican food at the Ruiz family restaurant with everyone and laughing. You want your family.

Your body's weak and you feel your eyes getting heavy. No, you can't close your eyes. If you do, you won't ever open them again. It doesn't sound so bad, now that you think about. You'll finally be with your mom and dad again. The pain has long since faded and you let out a shuddering breath. Jensen will understand. He and everyone will understand if you close your eyes. But, your heart aches. You don't want to leave them. Not yet. There's still so much you haven't done.

You think about how Bradley will find out. Will they show up at his doorstep with news of your death? Will it be your team who tells him? Is he even going to be the one to answer the door? Maybe his partner will, or his kid. A weak chuckle escapes your lips as you think of Bradley's potential children. Without a doubt he'd name them after your late parents.

Or maybe it's Pete who's doorstep they set on. Your beloved godfather. You remember your mom telling you that when you were born, Pete cried tears as he held your small body. He whispered sweet nothings to you as Nick asked him to be your godfather.

"My baby chick," a sweet voice says from somewhere in the dark, small room. You know that voice, you've heard it before. But, you don't who it belongs to. "It's okay," it reassures and you nod. It's ok to let go.

You head shoots up at the sound of footsteps coming closer. Not now, please, not now. You're not sure if you could survive another beating. Your breathing picks up before you force yourself to get a grip.

The door opens and you stare at the dark figure. The lights behind the person hide their face and you give them a smug grin. "Couldn't wait to see me again?" you muse, every part of your body aching. The figure snarls and steps into the room. They grab your hair and you yelp as you weakly hit their arm.

"Let's so how much you run your mouth this time, girl."

You jolt up from your bed and press a hand to your chest. It feels like your heart is gonna beat out of your chest. Your fingers curl around the ratty t-shirt that you're wearing. Jensen's scent fills your nostrils and you can feel yourself calm down. He gave you the shirt a while ago but it still smells like him.

The apartment is quiet when you decide to get up. A look at your alarm clock and you see it's 4:30 in the morning. Your body's still trembling and you grab your blanket. Quickly, you make your way to living room and open the cabinets under the TV. For the next couple minutes you're connecting wires to the TV before popping a DVD into the DVD player. You let the video play as you lean against your couch.

"Baby, you are beautiful. Just like your mama. You're smaller than your brother was when he born. You're like a baby chick! That's what I'll call you, baby chick. My chick." Nick's voice fills your apartment and tears immediately fill you eyes. "I'll always protect you, Chick. I'll always love you." You wipe your tears with the blanket and sniffle.

"I miss you, daddy." You take a deep breath as the video ends and a different one plays. A gentle smile takes over your face as you watch. A five-year old you cluelessly walks across the stage as a ten-year old Bradley and Pete cheer wildly from next to the camera. Carole's giggle can be heard and the camera momentaily shifts from you to them. It goes back to you and wide smile is on your face as you catch sight of your family. You excitedly wave to them and pout as a teacher ushers you off the stage and back to your seat.

You look at the clock hanging up on the wall and read the time. 5:02 AM. You contemplate the sudden thought you had and quickly get up, your blanket dropping to the ground. You rush to get your uniform on and send a quick text to Jensen to not come by later.

The air nips at your skin a little while you're making your way to the gym on base. It's early in the morning and there's only a few people up and around camp. You make it to the gym doors and take a deep breath. Ava's words from last night replay in your head and you open the door.

Pete's grunts are the first thing you hear when you enter. His hair is sweaty and sticking to his forehead. The punching bag swings back violently each time he strikes it and you whistle.

"Wouldn't wanna be that punching bag." Pete's eyes widen as he pants.

"Braidy?" he whispers and you frown a little at the sound of your first name. Pete scrambles to stay something else and you sigh. You take a seat on the bench press next to the punching bags.

"Wanted to come see you," is all you say and Pete nods. He grabs his water bottle from the ground and takes a couple chugs before he wipes his mouth.

"How—uh, how have you been?" Pete cringes at his words. Really? That's the best he can do? He's glad you giggle at his question instead of getting angry. Although, if you did, he'd understand.

You intertwine your fingers and look down at them. "Been better." Well, shit. This is awkward and you're vague replies aren't making this any easier.

"You've got a great team," is the best Pete can think of. He doesn't wanna scare you off. Internally, he's happy beyond belief that you're standing (well, sitting) in front of him. Externally, he's tense and apprehensive. He makes small movements as one would when dealing with a scared animal.

You nod at his compliment. "Been with them for a long time."

"I can tell. They certainly love you."

"Mhmm." You're still staring at your hands with your head down. Pete's lip twitches.

"You ok? You've got that look on your face." You finally look at him and laugh.

"I had this dream. Wasn't a good one and I was watching these old videos that I have. There was one of my kindergarten graduation and I just— needed to see you. Make sure you were real or something. I don't know." Pete frowns at your explanation and takes a step towards you. You flinch at the movement, but the older man isn't deterred. He slowly and softly places a hand on your head and crouches down. You let him wrap his arms around your body and close your eyes.

You've missed him. As much as you tried to deny that you didn't, you did. Pete feels like home. He feels safe. He feels like family. You don't realize you're crying until Pete's wiping away your tears, his own falling softly.

"Why—why'd you leave me?" you whisper, voice broken and timid. Pete frowns as he takes a seat next to you. He wraps his hand in yours and sighs.

"After you called me and told me that what happened with Bradley, I thought that if I left you, that you and Bradley would make up. You're brother and sister, you need each other."

"I needed my dad," you countered. You both stare at each other and Pete smiles softly.

"It hurt me to leave you. You were my little girl, blood or not." Silence follows as you and Pete just sit next to each other. You lick your lips and your leg starts to bounce.

"You and Bradley have been in Miramar for the past two years," you say and Pete let's go of your hand.

"Yes."

"Did you guys think of me while you were together."

"Braidy, I think of you all the time."

"You didn't answer my question."

Pete swallows deeply and a pit grows in the pit of his stomach. "We didn't talk about you." That's all you need to hear before you stand up. You wipe your nose and nod before walking to the door. Pete's quick to grab your wrist and you stop. "Braidy, we miss you. Bradley misses you. Please, just talk to him."

You scoff in response and rip your wrist out of his grip. "It was nice talking to you, Pete." You exit the gym as quickly as you can and walk. You don't where you're going, but you just keep walking.

Taglist: @potato-girl99981 @winterrebel04 @caitsymichelle13 @darhk-angel @madkill44 @cherrycola27 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @clockworkballerina  @krismdavis @phantomxoxo @piceous21 @laneyspaulding19 @multifandomfangirll @moron-says-what @rhirhikingston @startrekfangirl2233 @mightiestheroes @awesomebooklover17 @gizmodear @meritxellao @adaydreamaway08 @letsgomamas @midnightzonzz @imaslytherin0 @thesewordsxlibrary @shawnsblue @theficthatwaspromised @lily-jean94 @havlindzk @hypatia93 @madsothree @oneelleandaneye @a-beaverhausen @dempy @alissa3000 @boltgirl426 @bcon24 @inthestars-underthesun @tsnelf7 @nataddz @topguncultleader @harrysgothicbitch @sadpetalsstuff @rogersbarnesxx @loganrwebb @tom-cruiseishot @thewulf @nikfigueiredo @spencvrr @yogabigooby @coldmuffinbanditshoe @tye-dyemango @blahblechblah @keenmarvellover

[no-phrogs-in-hats]

Baby Steps Part 5

Larissa x pregnant!reader

Summary: The new addition has arrived

Warnings: Childbirth, vomiting

Read Part 4 here

“I don’t have much to distract you while we wait,” Larissa sighed as she dug through her purse. “Oh, I have a deck of cards!”

“Larissa,” you huffed, slipping the hospital gown over your head, “it’s okay. I’m sure I’ll be too distracted to play strip poker with you tonight.”

As you laid in the hospital bed, left hand over your aching belly and right arm over your eyes, Larissa came to sit beside you on the edge of the bed. Her fingers brushed through your hair and she hummed at your joke. “I know…I just–I hate seeing you in so much pain.”

You took a deep breath as a mild contraction washed over you. “It’s fine…It’s fine. My body was…built to endure this. We both…agreed…no epidural unless I absolutely need it.”

“Alright,” she mumbled. “Just don’t be afraid to ask for one, sweet pea. It won’t make you any less of a mother to ask for an epidural.”

“I know,” you muttered. “I know…I know…I know…”

Your mumbles of various affirmations were interrupted by two nurses and their assistants, introducing themselves to you and Larissa before opening your chart on the computer.

“I’m gonna need to hook you up to a monitor, hun. Is that okay?”

With a nod and a hum from you, one nurse, who said her name was Molly, strapped a band to your belly. The sound of your unborn baby’s heartbeat filled your ears and put your mind at ease. Larissa held your hand in hers, thumb stroking the clammy skin along your palm. 

“So,” the other nurse–who you learned was Alice–piped up from the computer, “do we know the sex yet?”

“No,” you mused, watching as the heart rate of your baby printed out beside you. “But at the end of this I’m either going to be ten dollars richer or fifteen dollars poorer.”

The nurses and their aides chuckled. “What are we hoping for?” one of them asked. 

“Well, in the end we just want a healthy kid,” you said. “But, I have a good feeling it’s gonna be a girl. Larissa thinks it’ll be a boy.”

As Alice took your vitals and the baby’s, she smiled. “In my ten years of being a labor and delivery nurse, I’ve found that most of the time, it’s the mother–or, I guess in this case, the one who’s pregnant–that’s right. On occasion, the other parent is right. But, most of the time it’s the one who’s carrying the child.”

“You hear that, Larissa?” you boast, grinning. “You’re gonna owe me ten bucks.”

She rolled her eyes and smiled. “We don’t know that yet.”

A few hours later at 9pm, you were standing in the dimly lit room, bent over the bed and resting on your hands as you took deep breaths through the pain. “Has my mom messaged you yet?”

Larissa, who was behind you, massaging your lower back, stepped away to her purse. You watched her scroll through notifications, tapping on one and putting the phone to her ear.

“Hey!” Larissa smiled brightly. “Oh, great! Yeah…she’s only three centimeters…yes, the doctor said the baby looks great. Alright. Okay. I’ll let her know. Alright. Bye.”

As your fingers gripped the bed sheets, you groaned. “Are they on their way?”

“Yeah,” Larissa said, coming to stand by your side again and accepting the tight grip your hand gave hers. “They’re just finding parking right now. They should be here soon.”

“Good…good–Jesus Christ!”

Your hand squeezed Larissa’s as she rubbed your back, talking softly into your hair. “Is there anything I can do?” she asked. “Put on some music, get the peanut ball?”

“No,” you breathe, rocking your hips back and forth. “No, just–right here is fine.”

Twenty minutes later, with the lights to the room completely off, one of your nurses knocked on the doorframe. Your eyes had been shut for some time while laying in bed, trying to get as much rest as possible as Larissa sat beside you answering emails on her phone one-handed (seeing as her other hand was preoccupied with yours).

Larissa looked up from her phone. “Yes?”

“I have two people downstairs for you,” she responded. “Would you like me to send them up?”

Larissa nudged you, receiving a grumble. “Your parents are here, love. Do you want them to come up?”

“Mhm…”

“Hi, Mom,” you mumbled, smiling sleepily as she kissed you on the forehead.

“Mia was gonna come with us,” she said quietly after handing the hospital bag to Larissa. “But when we called they said only two people at a time. Your dad’s had a few drinks so we’re not gonna stay long.”

“Nervous about being a grandfather, Dad?” you asked, chuckling before another contraction washed over you. 

“We’ll be back around six tomorrow,” your mom said. “Call us if you need anything or if something happens, okay?”

“Okay, Ma,” you whispered. “Go home and get some rest. Especially you, Dad.”

Your dad leaned down and hugged you, giving you a nice whiff of the whiskey he had been drinking. “You get some rest–both of you. You’re gonna need it.”

It just kept getting worse. After your parents left for the night, you tried to sleep, but it was impossible. As soon as you dozed off, a contraction ripped through you and at one in the morning, you found out you were officially in the active labor stage at six centimeters.

And you were miserable.

You could no longer talk through contractions and during a walk in the hallway outside your room, you had to pause every few minutes.

“Shit, Larissa, wait.” The feeling of fluid trickling down your legs made you stop in your tracks.

Her face contorted into worry and her hands immediately went to hold you. “What? Are you okay?”

“Yeah…Yeah,” you said, looking down at the small puddle beneath you. “I think my water just broke.”

You felt horrible for Larissa. You could tell by the look in her eyes that she was aching to go to sleep. But she didn’t once complain. As you laid in bed, a peanut ball in between your legs, you held Larissa’s hand, watching her closely as she tried to stay awake in the chair beside your bed. 

Her face was barren, completely rid of makeup, and her platinum hair was pulled back into a messy updo. Even as an absolute mess, she was the most gorgeous woman you had ever seen.

How did you get so lucky?

You saw her jolt awake after a few tiny snores slipped out, and you giggled. “Larissa, sweetheart,” you said. “You can sleep for a bit. I’ll wake you up if I need anything.”

“No,” she mumbled, placing a kiss on your hand. “No, I don’t wanna–”

“Larissa. You need to sleep,” you said sternly. “I promise, I’ll be okay.”

She pursed her lips, looking at you uncertainly, but still muttering an, “Okay…”

When Larissa woke up, she immediately regretted going to sleep after seeing how much pain you were in. After waking up to the sounds of your retching, she now sat in the bed with you, holding a bedpan under your chin and holding your hair back as you vomited into it. “It’s alright, darling. It’s alright.”

“I’m sorry!” you cried. “I’m sorry, Larissa! I’m sorry!”

She set the bedpan down and pulled you into her arms. Wiping your tears with the cuff of her sleeve, Larissa tried to soothe you. “Shhh…why are you sorry, sweetheart?”

“Because!” you sobbed. “Because, I’m a–a–complete mess! I didn’t wanna wake you up! You’ve done so much already! You shouldn’t have–to deal–to deal with this!”

“Oh, darling,” she cooed. “It’s okay…It’s my job as your wife to help you through moments like these. I want to be here for you.” She pulled away and kissed you lightly on your lips. “For better or worse, in sickness and in health, vomit breath or mint toothpaste, I will be here for you the entire time. Okay?”

You sniffled and wiped tears from your eyes, humming. “Okay,” you muttered. “Thank you.”

Larissa was wide awake after that. She stayed with you the entire time, holding you as you leaned into her, burying your face in her neck and groaning through a particularly strong contraction. 

The gray light of dawn was peeking through the curtains and the analog clock on the wall read 5:56 when the doctor came in to check you again. At four, you were still at seven centimeters and with the contractions becoming stronger and longer, they were almost certain you’d be in the transition phase by now.

You took a deep breath, trying your best to relax as the doctor checked your cervix. Larissa took her hair down and tied your hair up loosely with her elastic as beads of sweat started to form on your hairline.

“Okay,” the doctor smiled, taking off her gloves and disposing of them in a trash can by the sink. “You’ve dilated to eight centimeters, so if you’ve decided to get an epidural, I’d recommend you get it now before you’re fully dilated and can no longer get one.”

Your head was clouded by a thousand thoughts but you spoke up. “No,” you said, shaking your head. “No, I don’t want one.”

“Alright,” she nodded. “I’ll be back in an hour to check on you again, okay?”

When the door closed, Larissa sighed. “Are you sure you don’t want the epidural?”

“I’m sure,” you insisted. “I’ve gotten this far. I can go all the way. Where are my parents?”

“Your mum texted me–said there’s traffic,” Larissa said as she wiped off a line of sweat. “There was a big accident on the highway.”

By eight, you were at nine centimeters. You had lashed out at Larissa multiple times, completely falling to pieces after. You cried to her, apologizing profusely and begging her to not divorce you as she reassured you that it was okay. You even kicked your parents and sister out, saying, “If the last time you saw me naked was when I was a baby and you were changing a diaper, get out!”

“I feel like I need to push,” you muttered around nine.

“What?”

“I feel like I need to push,” you repeated to Larissa. 

 Larissa blanked, “Oh! Oh! Okay!” She ran out quickly and came back with a nurse who checked you and informed you that you were fully effaced.

And that’s when it all sunk in.

Your doctor and nurses all gathered in the room, prepping the area for the delivery. It was utter chaos. Larissa’s hand went to hold yours again, “Are you okay on your back, sweetheart? You don’t have–”

“Yeah,” you said. “I wanna stay on my back.”

“Okay.” She pressed a kiss to your temple. “I love you so much.”

“I can’t,” you sobbed. “I can’t do it! I can’t!”

“Darling–”

“No! I wanna go home! I can’t do this!”

Tears streamed down your face as your hand practically clawed at Larissa’s hand. You were ten minutes into pushing and you were absolutely exhausted. How had you been so excited for this, but now you were begging to stop and go home?

“How about we stop for a couple minutes,” the doctor suggested. “Take a break and we’ll start again, okay?”

Larissa’s hand let go of your bare leg and went to your forehead. “Darling,” she said. “Darling, look at me.” Your eyes opened and met hers as you steadied your breathing. “You are doing so well. It’s not much longer, alright?” Her hand smoothed back your hair and she placed a kiss on your head. “Just a bit more and we’ll get to meet them–girl or boy, it doesn’t matter to me. We’ll get to meet the tiny baby that we’ve loved since it was a tiny blob on a piece of paper. Just a bit more, alright? Just a bit more and we’ll be able to hold them in our arms and love them and protect them. Okay?”

“Okay,” you sniffled. “Okay. I’m ready. Okay.”

The doctor moved back in between your legs. “On the next contraction I want you to give me a big push,” she said. You nodded, clutching Larissa’s hand in yours and beginning to take deep breaths as you felt the contraction begin. Tucking your chin and pushing hard, the doctor gave you words encouragement as you continued. “Good! Good! I can see its head.” 

Another contraction, another push.

“Good! One more push! Keep going!”

A wave of relief washed over you and you leaned back, limp. The sound of loud cries filled the room and your heart swelled. On your chest was now a baby–your baby; a tiny human that you created from scratch. This was the center of your universe. This was your pride and the source of your joy. Tears slipped down your cheeks as you took the blanket from under them and cleaned them off. “Ten adorable fingers and toes,” you sniffled. “Oh, you are the most perfect thing ever.”

As Larissa leaned down to kiss you, she smiled. “I think I owe you ten dollars.”

Tag list: @gwenistheloml @barbarasstar @gwendolinechristierulez @furrysharkfart @yourgaeyisshowing

[softhairedhotch]

If this is not something you’re comfortable with writing please ignore it.

The reader (trans man) coming out to Hotch, after a case that has caused their dysphoria to become worse. Whether it’s a victim who was trans or a bigoted unsub and it makes them visibly angry and upset to deal with.

Ideally it would have a happy ending but the rest can be as angsty or not as you would like.

thank you for the request, i really hope i did it justice <3 it didn't come out as angsty as i thought, it's pretty sweet tbf. it's not really what i wanted to do which this idea but i couldn't think of anything else and didn't wanna keep you waiting :')

aaron hotchner x trans male reader

after a case involving murdered trans kids and a transphobic cop, you come out as trans to aaron.

warnings/content: mentions of transphobia/hate crimes, feeling unloved and unworthy, deep conversations, coming out, love confessions and kissing

word count: 1.6k

also on ao3!

what about today?

“Agent.”

You paused, Aaron's soft voice surprising you. Taking a deep breath, you turned around and forced a smile. “Yes, Sir?”

Aaron's eyes swept over your features as he slightly tilted his head. He opened his mouth, struggled to make a sound, and closed it. “Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn't I be?”

He sighed. “Sit down. Please.” You nodded and stepped toward the chair in front of his desk but he shook his head. “On the couch.”

Realisation slowly dawned on you–this conversation wasn't going to be easy. Either you had to lie and tell him the case didn't affect you mentally, that it didn't remind you how ignorant and full of hatred people can be towards others like you, and pray he didn't see through the cracks in your armour, or you told him the truth. And the truth, no matter how hard, felt like the right choice in the end. 

But whatever happened, you knew it couldn't happen in his office. You trusted him with your life but you couldn't be sure how he'd react. Taking a deep breath, you quietly asked, "Can we go somewhere else?”

Aaron tilted his head. "Like where?" 

"I don't know," you shrugged, wringing your hands together. "A bar?" 

If Aaron was confused, he didn't say anything. Instead, he moved from behind his desk and reached out to gently grab your elbow, leading you out of the office. 

As you parked the car, Aaron eyed the area with interest. His eyes, shining in the low light of a street lamp nearby, flickered over the entry of the bar. He observed the gaggle of women huddled away in the smoking area, all sharing a cigarette, then the two drag queens giggling away at an inside joke, and finally the security guard who stood at the door with a pin that proudly exclaimed ‘love is love’. “A gay bar,” he mused. “It looks nice. Do you come here often?”

“When I need to clear my head and feel a little less alone, yes.”

He smiled. “You ready to go inside?”

You took a deep breath and nodded. A few people called out to you as you made your way to your usual seat, waving with grins that you matched, although it didn't quite reach your eyes. The bartender waggled his eyebrows at you when he spotted Aaron and you bit back a laugh. Aaron slid into the booth opposite yours and gave you a polite smile, patiently waiting for you to speak. 

“So you're probably wondering why I brought you here.”

Aaron shrugged. “Because you have something you want to say and you feel as if being in a public space surrounded by people you trust will make it easier?”

You opened your mouth to answer but no sound came out. “I… What happened to not profiling each other?”

“Not a profile,” he smiled, glancing away for only a moment. “Just an observation.”

“Well, you're right. Uh, I wanted to explain why this case affected me more than most.”

Aaron sighed and leaned forward, reaching out for you as if to take your hands in his. At the last second, however, he changed his mind and pulled away, standing up instead. You stared at him with your eyebrows knitted together as he moved to your side, sliding in beside you. When he was settled, his knee bouncing against yours, only then did he speak. “You never have to explain yourself. Not to me. I just wanna make sure you're okay.”

Warmth bloomed in your chest and if your heart wasn't already beating a mile a minute, it was now. Tenfold, actually, and your hands shook in your lap as you gave Aaron a tentative smile. “I appreciate that, Hotch. But this… I need to.” His eyes found yours and you lost yourself for a moment. Smiling, he glanced away, giving you time to collect your thoughts with no pressure, and for that you were grateful. Taking a deep breath, you began. “I thought I'd be okay with the case because, well, I've seen stuff like this everywhere. I see it online or on the news more often than not; it's something we can never get away from. Violence against people who are, are different, that don't conform. We've seen it before, too, on cases. People in this community have been murdered for as long as time.” 

You paused, taking another shaky breath, and for a moment it felt like time slowed to a stop and you couldn't breathe. Aaron turned to give you a smile, small but genuine, and reached out for your trembling hand. “It's okay,” he whispered, interlocking your fingers. “I'm here.”

“Thank you,” you whispered back, squeezing his hand in return. Instead of pulling away immediately like you thought he would, he shuffled even closer so that your thighs and shoulders were pressed completely together. It gave you the courage you needed. “So when we were on that case with those… those little boys who only wanted peace and happiness, who wanted to be loved, who just wanted–needed–help and never got it from the people that should have been there for them… and when that cop said that they deserved it because they were different, because they were trans…” Aaron tensed beside you. “Something inside me broke. I felt like a kid again being told that I'd never be loved because of who I am.”

“Because of your sexuality?”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. The hand in your lap felt like a weighted blanket, something that brought comfort, and it allowed you to breathe out your next words. “Because of my identity. Because I'm trans, too.”

Aaron didn't flinch. He didn't pull away, he didn't breathe, and he didn't make a sound. You immediately thought the worst–that he was disgusted in you but couldn't bring it in himself to react. Hesitantly, you slowly began pulling your hand from his, unwinding your fingers. But before you could pull your hand completely away, he tightened his grip and pulled your combined hands into his own lap. The rough pad of his thumb slid across your knuckles, his touch featherlight but filled with a tenderness that had your heart leaping into your throat.

His other hand gently cupped your cheek, large and warm and firm, and angled your head up so that your eyes connected with his. Instead of disgust, all you found was acceptance. “Listen to me,” he said, voice hushed as if you were in a library. Despite the excited bustle surrounding you, music so loud it was almost disorientating, all you could focus on was him. His tongue flitted out and swept across his bottom lip nervously before he continued. “This doesn't change how I see you. You're still you, okay? And you always will be.” He gave you a sad smile. “And you have every right to be upset. Every right. What that cop said… I wish you hadn't heard it, I really do, but more importantly I wish he hadn't said it, or even thought it. I wish many others didn't share the same views, too, because you… you don't deserve that.”

“No one does,” you replied.

“No one does,” he repeated. “But you… Oh, you. I'm sorry that someone thought it was their right to tell you that you could never be loved because it's not true. Not in the slightest.” His thumb gently swiped over your cheekbone. “You are so, so loved.”

You gave him a weak smile. “I know. But not in the way I want to be. I don't think I'll ever get that.”

It was as if you could see the reflection of Aaron's heart breaking in his eyes. He gave you a sad look, not one of pity but of understanding, and nodded. “You will.”

“Maybe one day.”

“What about today?”

Your breath caught in your throat. “What?”

He hesitated, his gaze dropping low to your lips before finding your eyes again, and his head moved hardly an inch closer. If you weren't so close already, you wouldn't have noticed. But now you were keenly aware of his breath mixing with yours, the way your combined hands slotted together perfectly, how the comforting and familiar smell of him washed over you, and how his eyes shone with acceptance and love. 

“I…” Aaron started, trailing off in uncertainty. It's the only time you've ever seen him truly nervous. He licked his lips again and it took all your strength not to surge forward and press yours against his. “I love you.”

All that strength disappeared the moment those words left his trembling mouth and, before you knew it, you were kissing him. Mind completely silent, body losing all sensation except for where his body met yours, you felt like you were floating. His grip loosened on both your hand and face for hardly a moment before he held you twice as hard and kissed you back. It wasn't romantic by any means, the kiss feeling like a game of catch-up you had no idea how long had been in motion, lips and teeth and tongues clashing frantically, but it had your blood rushing in your ears and the world disappearing around you. 

When you pulled back for air, Aaron remained still. His lips were still slightly pursed, as if trapped in a memory he never wanted to escape, and his eyes were closed, a slight red tinge to his cheeks. He looked peaceful. He looked beautiful. 

As you admired him, the words slipped from your mouth with ease. “I love you too.”

[mouschiwrites]

oo that morro one HIT. thank you thank you

if you dont mind, can we get a part 2 with a premise of the day of departed lil short special?

for comfort i mean

Ofc dear!! Sorry this came out sorta long ^^”

Word count: 1.2k

Ninjago - Waiting for Your Morro

Part I here!

When Wu told you that today was all about remembering, there was no doubt that you’d come here. It was somewhere that reminded you of your old love; you spent your early years flying kites with him in this quiet meadow, and in later years he’d impress you with his wind powers by making the long grass flop this way and that.

You slowly tread through the grass, cool and soft in the night air, breathing in familiar scents of grass and wildflowers. You were used to the sky being a vibrant blue, but today it was black and speckled with stars. Still, you could remember everything vividly.

“Y/n, Y/n, are you watching?”

“I’m watching, Morro!”

“Okay, look at—that!”

“Oh wow! Did Wu teach you that?”

“Yup! My training’s going pretty well, eh?”

“Yeah… you’re gonna be a master in no time…”

The innocent dark head of hair flopped to one side quizzically, a sad look coming into those dark eyes. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“You won’t forget me when you’re all great and powerful, will you?”

“Y/n, how many times do I have to tell you? It’s you and me, forever and ever! No matter what!”

“I know, but…”

“Shh!” His hands grabbed your face, forcing your gaze up from your feet to his eyes. “When I’m the most powerful ninja, you’re going to be right there beside me. And if you’re not, I’m going to hunt you down and force you to be with me!”

You couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled out of you at that. “Okay then. But I’d never say no to you.”

“And I’d never let you go anyway.”

You picked a flower bud, still green as it had not bloomed yet, and twisted it between your fingers. You let out a shivering breath and tucked it behind your ear. It stung to remember, but you knew that this was what today was all about.

I refuse to forget you, Morro. Even if it hurts to remember.

You managed to dry the steady flow of tears that came from your eyes on your way back to the museum. You sniffed sharply when you realized you were the last one coming back; the other ninjas were already talking among themselves at the top of the steps.

As you hurried up to meet them, you noticed an air of trouble emulating from their serious faces and grim voices.

You were planning to ask what was wrong, but the looks they gave you when they saw you approaching silenced you before that could happen. They were first surprised to see you, then they each adopted a unique impression of awkwardness. They exchanged knowing looks and grimaced, and Kai kept glancing over behind them.

The way they were standing seemed to be shielding someone, and you guessed that whoever this person was, they were the reason that the ninjas were acting so awkward.

Jay was the first to say something. “Uh, we should be on our way, guys…”

He was met with (almost too eager) responses.

“Yup! Lots to do!”

“We’ll explain later, Y/n. See ya!”

“Bye bye now!”

“Have fun, you kids!”

That last response, which had come from Kai, caught you off guard. You turned to watch the ninjas as they scurried past you, quizzically quirking up your brow.

Suddenly it was all obvious. The final clue had come in the form of a voice, a voice you could never forget, the voice that played in your head whenever there was a second of silence.

“Y/n..?”

You whirled around, eyes huge. And there he was.

Your arms were around each other before either of you could even remember moving, and there was the sound of laughing sobs muffled in cloth as you buried your faces in each other.

“I knew—” you hiccuped, squeezing tighter, “I knew I’d see you again.”

“So did I. Nothing can keep us separated,” he mused, pulling away to give you a mischievous look. It was as if you never spent a day apart.

There was a moment of breathless silence. Morro was looking you over, his eyes shining with pure affection. “You’re beautiful.”

You smiled. “You said that before.”

“I’ll say it again. And again. And again, until the end of time. You’re beautiful,” he squeezed your hand.

You looked down at your interlocked fingers, a twinge of sadness tainting your joy.

“I waited for you, you know. Every day. Every night.”

He blinked at you; you weren’t quite sure if it was because he hadn’t expected such devotion, or if he just hadn’t expected the change in mood.

“I tried to come back. I… I wanted to see you, too.”

“Did you?” Your eyes were teary when they met his, and you looked away shamefully when you saw the same pain in his eyes.

“I did. But… there are rules. Rules that not even I can break. And you know how I like to break rules.”

You let out a weak laugh. “…I understand.”

You felt his fingers under your chin, and you were gently guided back to his gaze.

“Y/n, remember what I said? It’s you and me, forever and ever.”

You laughed again, more genuinely this time, but with tears trickling down your cheeks. “You remember that?”

“I remember everything I promised to you. And I live by those promises. Well, maybe not live anymore,” he smirked, but shook his head to dismiss the little jest. “We may be in different realms, but we’re still tied to each other. And one day, that long cord that separates us will grow shorter, and you’ll be at my side again. We just have to be patient.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line, and you gave the slightest of nods.

“I knew you’d understand… you were always the reasonable one.”

You embraced again, limbs tight around each other. You breathed unsteadily into his shoulder for a long time, trying to collect yourself before facing him again, and at the same time basking in his touch.

When you came apart again you held on to each other’s forearms, your stomachs still pressed together with your faces fervently close.

“You’ve waited for me,” Morro whispered, his dark eyes dripping with wist and admiration, “but this is the last time I can come to you.”

You closed your eyes, your head dropping. Your forehead hit his, and he continued:

“Now it’s my turn to wait for you. And don’t you rush to get to me,” he chided, pressing his forehead firmly into yours in a show of affection. “Just try to live happily, okay?”

“Okay.” The word came out in a quivering rasp that was really not much more than a whisper.

You opened your eyes, finding a profound smile on Morro’s lips that somehow caught on your own face.

You knew it was time to say goodbye, but despite this your tears chose to stop flowing at this moment.

“Hey,” Morro said, clearly as an afterthought that would be the last thing he said to you in a long time, “guess what?”

“What?”

“I love you.”

You found yourself laughing, giving his shoulder a hardy punch as the attitude of old friends once more overtook your demeanor. “You’re an idiot.”

But just as he went to leave, you had to shout: “Hey!”

You knew that there would be no more tears; his promises put a new hope in your heart that far overpowered any sorrow you had. You knew you’d be together again someday, but now you were sure of it. And so you spoke with the voice of someone saying goodbye to a lover they’d see later that same day when you said:

“I love you too.”

Thanks so much for this request! And thanks for reading, take care sweet duckies!! <33

(divider by saradika)

[zepskies]

Never Say Goodbye - Bonus Track #2

Pairing: Dean x Female Reader 

Summary: The first time you and Dean sensed each other’s thoughts and feelings, you were just kids. It would take years to realize that you both were bonded for life, and even longer to finally meet. [Soulmate AU] (18+)

AN: Did I say two parts? I meant three lol. (It got too long, I’m sorry.) 

Word Count: 4,300 Tags/Warnings: Angst, supernatural shenanigans, death…

Bonus Track #2: One Last Hunt

“Okay, try not to panic,” Sam said. Dean had him on the phone while he sped through town in the Impala. 

“I’m coming now, but I won’t get there for a few hours,” Sam said. “My flight leaves in 20 minutes.”

“Thanks, man, but I can’t afford to wait,” Dean said. “She fucking disappeared. I don’t see her anywhere…I’m gonna have to start at her job. That’s where she first took off from.”

“How did she seem this morning?”

“Fine, I guess. I left before she woke up,” Dean said. He still felt guilty about the fact that he didn’t bother waking you up to say goodbye. 

“Okay, yeah, start at the museum,” Sam said. “Let me know what you find, and I’d loop in Bobby. Probably Jack too.”

“Bobby’s meeting me there…but we don’t need to bring in Jack yet.”

“Dean, he’s her dad—”

“This isn’t his thing. It’s ours,” Dean said firmly. “If it’s a demon, I’m gonna find her and exorcize that son of a bitch.”

Sure enough, Bobby met Dean at the museum where you worked. The old man was worried, Dean could tell, even if he wouldn’t say it. But he knew the drill: now they had a job to do.

“I’ll go in first, flash my badge,” Dean said. “Meet me in the library.”

“Roger that,” Bobby agreed. 

Dean had a decent rapport with your boss, Jerry. When he explained that you were actually missing, Jerry was concerned for your wellbeing instead of irate that you’d taken a very valuable book from the museum. 

It gave Dean a theory to lie about on the fly: that you’d been mugged and taken hostage, presumably by someone who might’ve wanted to steal the ancient text. 

“How ancient are we talking exactly?” Dean asked.

Jerry gave him a look. “Ancient Egypt.”

He showed you the inventory log on the new shipment you were supposed to compile into the system. The title missing from the rest was called The Eye of Ra. 

“All right. Thanks, Jerry,” Dean said. “Anything else you can tell me about this book?”

“It’s a recording of the great deeds of the Ancient Egyptian gods and goddesses,” Jerry explained. “It was said to be touched by Ra himself.”

Touched by Ra, Dean mused. Ain’t that just fucking swell. 

Whatever happened to you, Dean knew it was because you touched that book.

For the next few hours, Dean and Bobby worked together on deeper research in the library. Now that they had a starting point, Bobby was able to find some intel. 

“The Eye of Ra was actually a nickname,” he said, earning Dean’s attention. “For Sekhmet, their goddess of war.”

Dean’s brows furrowed at that. “Why’s it never the goddess of peace and fucking tranquility?”

“Among other things, she was the daughter of Ra,” Bobby said, raising a wry brow. “And she was known as the bringer of plagues and death…and sometimes healing. Go figure.”

Fucking hell, Dean thought sourly. This was getting worse by the minute. 

“Okay, what does this have to do with the book?” he asked. Though he had some idea.

“Well, she ain’t been alive in a millennium. But she had a husband. The god Ptah, a craftsman,” Bobby said. “According to this, when he was eventually killed, she sealed her soul away until she could find a way to rescue him from the underworld…I’ve gotta think she sealed it in that book.”

Dean sighed, rubbing the now aching spot between his brows. An ancient Egyptian goddess was most likely possessing his fiancé. 

And it was much worse than it sounded on paper.

“Okay, which means she’ll be looking for a way to bring back her husband,” he said. “So how do we find her?” 

Just then, the police radio buckled to Dean’s belt sounded off. When he listened closely, his eyes grew wide. It was a report of five murders committed at a nearby gas station. 

Dean pulled up to the local 7-Eleven. Bobby was on the way, but he’d been caught up in traffic while Dean was allowed to use his police siren to his advantage. 

He then used his badge clearance to get behind the yellow tape and over to Jack, who was still on duty. 

Dean stepped inside the gas station and surveyed the brutal scene: the nice old man who owned the place, plus four patrons were lying dead. 

Their skin was covered with boils.

Jack wore a disconcerted frown along with his crossed arms in his police jacket. 

“It’s almost…biblical,” he remarked. 

Dean knew just how right he was. Jack seemed to know that too when he glanced over.

“Is this your kind of thing?” he asked. 

Dean nodded. “I might know what’s going on here. Let’s check the security footage…but no one else can see it but you and me.”

Jack nodded, leading Dean to the back of the store. Jack was shocked by what he found in the footage. Dean watched grimly, but not surprised as you came into the frame. You tilted your head at the owner, who seemed to ask you something. 

You raised a hand, and with a flare of magic, everyone in the station was cowering and screaming as a plague of boils covered their bodies, and eventually ended their lives. 

“Christ,” Jack gasped. “What the hell—”

“It’s not her,” Dean told him. “She’s being possessed. I’ll handle this, Jack. Just make sure this footage gets buried, along with whatever prints she might’ve left behind.”

Jack barely had time to agree. As if that kind of thing was so easy. He called after Dean as he took off out of the station. 

Dean didn’t see Bobby yet when he got outside, but he didn’t have time to wait. 

However, he did spot someone familiar hanging out in front of the department store across the street. Dean jogged across and raised a hand to flag down Jessie Deluca. 

The kid was gnawing on what looked like a melting Butterfinger. He groaned in annoyance when he saw Dean coming.

“Not you again,” he muttered.

“Yeah, me again,” Dean said. “You been standing out here long?”

“Look, grandpa. I’m just chillin’ here,” the kid sassed. It sparked Dean’s irritation, as well as his impatience.

“I don’t give two shits if you’re contemplating the great Butterfinger Heist of 2008, all right?” Dean pointed back to the gas station. “You see that?”

Jessie’s expression faded from some of its assholeness, becoming more solemn. “Yeah, I heard someone died or something.”

“That’s right,” Dean nodded. “Did you see anyone walk out of the station?”

“No,” Jessie said. But Dean could tell it was a reflex, not the truth. 

“Listen, Jessie. I need your help,” he said, more earnestly. “I’m trying to find someone. So if you know anything, I need you to tell me right now. Please.” 

Dean stared down in the kid’s brown eyes. Eventually, Jessie relented. 

“When I came out of the store here, I saw some business lady walk out. I think, after it had all just gone down,” Jessie confessed. “She looked fine.”

Dean sighed and nodded. “Okay. What’d she look like?”

“Uh…black skirt. Great legs,” Jessie said, his lips curving a little. Dean raised a brow. 

“Anything else?” he asked wryly. 

“White blouse, heels…actually, she kinda looked familiar,” Jessie added as he thought harder about it. 

“Good. Now tell me what direction she went in,” Dean said. Jessie nodded and pointed him down the street. 

“I think she went down there. I saw her turn the corner.”

“Where? What street?” 

“Dude, I don’t know!”

“Then show me,” Dean insisted. He grabbed Jessie by the shoulder and guided him forward. The kid looked annoyed, but he begrudgingly agreed to lead him down the street. The two of them walked brusquely, with Jessie trying to match Dean’s longer strides. 

Dean glanced over at his companion, who was still working on his Butterfinger. 

“When’s the last time you ate something that wasn’t covered in chocolate?” he asked. Jessie didn’t look at him when he shrugged. His winter jacket hung off his skinny shoulders, making him look ten rather than thirteen. Dean’s heart twinged.

“Listen, next time you’re itching to knock over a department store for KitKats, come by the station,” Dean said. “Find me or my partner Jody Mills. Or even my boss, Jack. We’ll get you a burger or something.”

Jessie briefly looked up at him, but all too soon, his gaze returned to the ground. 

“What do you care?” he said. 

“Maybe I know something about having to fend for yourself,” said Dean. “Sometimes going hungry, not knowing when somebody’s gonna come back for you.”

Jessie’s jaw clenched. He didn’t answer, but Dean hoped he’d gotten through to him.

Jessie led him around the corner at the street he thought he saw you turn down. He and Dean didn’t have to walk too much farther before he found you through the window of a bakery, of all things. 

“What the hell?” Dean muttered.

He pulled Jessie to the wall by the window for safety, but both of them snuck a peek inside. 

You were once again wielding magic to spread a plague of boils across an entire room of screaming, agonized patrons just trying to get their donuts and cream pies. 

Jessie started to utter a cry of alarm, but Dean quickly covered the kid’s mouth with his hand and pulled him back to his side. Dean waited, stock still, until the screaming inside the bakery subsided.

He looked down at Jessie and raised a finger to his lips. Though he was scared, Jessie nodded. Dean led him around the corner into an alley beside the bakery.  

“What…the fuck was that?” Jessie hissed. 

“Keep your voice down,” Dean warned. 

Then suddenly, it donned on the kid as he looked up at Dean. “Oh, shit. That’s your freakin’ girlfriend.”

Dean let out a sharp sigh. “It’s not her…exactly.”

He knew Jessie didn’t understand. Dean sighed again and grasped Jessie’s shoulders. 

“Look, you’re right to be scared. There’s something evil in there…that’s why I’ve gotta save her,” he said. “Now you, you’re gonna run. And don’t look back until you’re home, got it?”

After a moment, Jessie nodded shakily. Dean nodded back, patting him firmly on his shoulders. 

“Good man,” he said. “Okay, scram.”

Jessie seemed reluctant, like he felt some type of way about leaving Dean behind. But at Dean’s encouraging look, Jessie took off running. Dean hoped he headed straight home.

Then, rolling his shoulders, Dean braced himself. He drew his gun, which was filled with silver bullets. He didn’t think it would work on an Egyptian goddess, nor did he want to pull a gun on you. But for the threat of it alone, he would have to draw it with the safety on. 

He entered the bakery, where you were perusing the selections with a dispassionate look. All around you was death. 

But you perked up when Dean entered, eyeing him curiously in recognition. 

“Feelin’ a snack?” he asked. 

“I have been asleep for a very long time,” you replied, holding up a pastry. “What is this confection?”

“Cherry Danish,” Dean supplied. “You’re Sekhmet, right?” 

Your lips twitched. “You know of me?”

“I do now,” he said, carefully stepping further into the bakery with his gun pointed down, avoiding stepping on the bodies. He noticed the book you left closed on the counter. The goddess saw him noticing. Her gaze cut to him in amusement.

“Why’d you kill these people?” Dean asked. “Didn’t bow down at the right angle?”

“Among all of my brothers and sisters, I alone was favored by my father,” she said, “because my job was to balance the world, between life and the afterlife.”

Sekhmet brushed her fingers against a glass case, and with a small spark of magic, the glass cracked into thousands of fractals, but didn’t shatter. 

“And I did exceedingly well at this,” she said. “Though I see that my work has been undone. This world is rife with imbalance.”

“Mass genocide. Nice,” Dean quipped. “But that’s not all you want, is it?”

Sekhmet’s head tilted at him with reluctant interest. 

“I heard you’re looking for your husband, who went an offed himself,” he added. 

The goddess’s lips pursed and she slapped a hand on the glass counter, making it shatter. Dean turned and shielded his eyes with his arm. By the time he recovered, Sekhmet was coming around the counter. He took a few cautious steps in the opposite direction.

“My husband was unjustly slain by the very people who once worshipped us in droves,” she said, her tone exacting and harsh. Her eyes, however, were heavy with fury and pain. 

“He was an artist. A creator in purest form…his talents were wasted on this abomination of a world,” she said, with disgust at her surroundings. But as soon as her anger came, it diffused into exasperation. 

She picked up a glazed donut and took a bite, crossing her arms. She hummed in delight, making Dean’s brows raise. 

“Well, I can help you find him,” Dean said. It was a bluff, to be sure, but it still earned Sekhmet’s attention.

“Can you?” she asked in amusement. She didn’t believe him. Yet. But she drew closer to Dean, tilting her head just so. All the while, Dean inched towards the far end of the counter where The Eye of Ra had fallen to the ground. 

“And after, you let my girl go,” he said.

“You know of a way to reach the Underworld?” Sekhmet’s gaze roamed over him in disdain. “Unlikely.”

“Well, I’d call it a gate to Hell. But same difference, right?” Dean quipped.

The second he tried to reach down for the book, however, Sekhmet pinned him in place with a vibrant amber coil of magic. Dean grunted as she forced him to the ground, onto his knees between the bodies of a young man and woman, likely a couple. 

The goddess stopped in front of him, looking down at his face with interest. 

“Dean Winchester, as you are called. I understand why you continue to display such reckless judgment, all but throwing your very life at my feet,” she said. Her lips curved knowingly. “I hold your lover, correct?”

She harshly grabbed his cheek in her hand, and Dean glared in response. She seemed to ponder something as she considered him.

“Soon to be your wife,” she realized.

And Dean had a feeling she was in your head, sorting through your thoughts and memories like any demon would. He didn’t know what was worse: the thought of you being awake in there, unable to fight this bitch’s hold, or if Sekhmet had completely taken over your body and shut you away. 

“Just let her go,” Dean said, almost pleading. “You can have me. I won’t even fight you.”

“Such self-sacrifice,” she said. “The only noble act humans are capable of.”

Before she could decide whether to kill him, or keep him for further amusement, the front door of the bakery swung open.

Bobby came in first, followed closely by Sam and Eileen. 

Bobby was holding a damn crossbow, which he aimed and shot off at Sekhmet. It was a warning shot, just grazing her shoulder. But it burned her with a sting of flesh that made her hiss in pain. She glared up at Bobby, and after grabbing the book before Sam could, she disappeared in a whirlwind of magic.

The coil holding Dean in place shattered, allowing Dean to catch his break and get to his feet, with Sam’s help. Dean had to admit, it was good to see his brother. 

“You okay?” Sam asked. Dean reached over and pat the other man’s shoulder. 

“I’m good,” he said, though with a sigh that belied his weariness. “Hey, Eileen. Thanks for making it to the party.”

The pretty brunette offered him a sympathetic smile, rubbing his arm. “We came as soon as we could.”  

Dean nodded and turned to Bobby, who still held his crossbow. He wasn’t happy about the old man shooting at you, but he recognized that it had saved his life.

“Why’d that thing hurt her?” he asked. 

“The arrow’s dipped in a potent mix of salt from the Dead Sea…and Egyptian wine, among other things,” Bobby replied. 

Dean frowned in confusion. “Why the fuck?”

“According to the lore, Sekhmet could be subdued with alcohol,” Sam explained. 

“Great, we’ll just get her drunk and all our problems will be solved,” Dean quipped dryly. He grabbed the radio from his belt. His gaze returned to the dead bodies on the floor with dismay. 

“I’ve gotta call this in. Bobby, get the security tapes.”

After Dean finished calling in the deaths to his precinct, he shared a disheartened look with Sam, who grasped his shoulder in support.

“We’re gonna find her, all right?”

They regrouped at Bobby’s house once Jack took over at the bakery. Now the three men and Eileen were congregated in the living room, trying to decide on their next move. 

“You told her about the Hell gate?!” Sam said incredulously. 

“Damn it, Dean!” Bobby slapped the coffee table in exasperation. 

“All right, lay off! I was improvising under fucking duress,” Dean snapped. “At least we know where she’ll probably go next, assuming she finds out where the gate is.”

“She’s a goddess, Dean. One of the oldest and most powerful in ancient history. I’m sure she can figure it out,” Sam said, rubbing at his tired eyes.

And, as Dean remembered, Sekhmet was rooting around in your head. She’d find the gate for sure.

Eileen looked between the brothers, clearly worried. Sam had told her about what you, him, and Dean had gone through to close that damn gate to Hell last year. 

“So how do we stop her?” Dean asked. Without hurting you, was implicit. Bobby heaved a sigh.

“We gotta burn that damn book,” Bobby said. “But we’ll need to be smart about it.”

So that was how the four of them ended up driving to southern Wyoming. They stopped along the crossroads by the train tracks, and ventured in on foot into the very clearing where their final battle against Yellow Eyes took place.

Dean thought he’d be able to put his past behind him, but the universe clearly liked to kick him in the balls.

Evidence of this came when he saw you standing at Samuel Colt’s gravestone. Or rather, the goddess Sekhmet. 

She was expending large forces of magic to try and open up the gate to Hell. The book that bound her soul lied on top of a nearby headstone.

Dean gestured for Sam, Eileen, and Bobby to hang back and fan out, while he stalked forward. He’d changed out of his police uniform in favor of his familiar jeans, shirt, and a red plaid shirt, hoping that at least would help you focus on him, wherever you were deep inside your mind. 

But he called out to Sekhmet from a (relatively) safe distance away. 

“Are you stupid or something?” he mocked. 

Sekhmet paused in her magic wielding. She craned her head over her shoulder at him in annoyance, with amber rings illuminating her eyes. 

“There’s only one thing that can open up that gate, and I’ve got it right here,” said Dean. 

He pulled out the Colt from behind his back. 

Sekhmet’s gaze narrowed on the gun, then at Dean with a slow smirk.

“Why, by the gods, should I trust your foolishness?” she asked. 

“Because we’re about to make a trade,” Dean said. “The gun for my girl. You let her go, or you’ll never see your husband again. In this world, or the next.”

Dean pointed the gun at her and cocked the safety back. She didn’t have to know the barrel was empty. 

“You cannot harm me, even if there was ammunition in that weapon,” Sekhmet replied knowingly. 

She turned to him and reached out with a magic-fueled hand, but before she could grab Dean, Sam shot his own gun. 

It deployed a net of rope that twined around her frame and held her in place. It was soaked with the same concoction Bobby shot her with in the bakery, and it made her fume with outrage.

It didn’t completely weaken her though. Her hands were still free to fling Sam and Bobby away from her with magic. 

She then turned to grip Eileen, who was nearly able to steal the book. And the goddess sent Eileen across the clearing, breaking a headstone as she fell. 

Sam had been trying to pick himself up from the ground, but he gripped at his chest, feeling his soulmate’s pain. He scrambled over to her prone form on the ground and checked the cut along her hairline. 

“Eileen,” Sam called, pressing his hand to her cheek. He had one eye on her, and another on his brother. 

Because meanwhile, Sekhmet had broken free of the ropes holding her captive with a cry of fury. 

Just in time to grab Dean by the throat when he tried to surprise her from behind. She forced him down to his knees and smirked in satisfaction as Dean struggled against her hold.

He called your name, trying to reach you through the goddess’s hold on your mind.

“She is gone from this world,” Sekhmet taunted. “This is but a vessel for my eternal soul.”

“I don’t fucking believe that,” Dean choked. “If she was gone, I’d know it. Deep in my bones I’d know it.”

Her mouth twitched, but she seemed to enjoy the idea of slowly choking him to death. Or maybe, something was holding her back. Dean could only hope it was you, trying to break through. 

He looked into your eyes and tried to find you through the cold disdain of a goddess.

“Whatever happens, I’m not letting go,” he gritted out. He held tight to your wrist, on the hand wrapped around his throat. 

“I love you, you know that?” he said. “From the start…you closed the door in my face when I tried to kiss you. Teased me. Never took my shit. But you never left me either. No matter how hard it fucking got, you kept my feet on the ground. You never called it quits…‘cause we never say goodbye. Right, baby?”

Slowly, slowly, Sekhmet’s hard exterior faded. The amber rings of magic receded from your eyes, and the woman he loved was there again, softening your face into shock and horror. 

You released your grip on Dean. He stumbled to the ground as he coughed and gasped for precious oxygen. 

He straightened enough to grab your hand. You reached out for him instinctively. 

“Dean,” you said with shaking effort.

“I’ve gotcha, sweetheart,” he said. He turned back to see his brother helping Eileen to her feet. “Sam, the damn book!” 

Sam snapped to attention and quickly looked for The Eye of Ra. It had been knocked over from the headstone onto the ground. He grabbed it and fished out a lighter from his pocket.

Dean’s attention turned back to you when you squeezed his hands.

“I can’t hold her for long,” you said tremulously. Your whole body was shaking. “She’s so damn strong…”

“It’s okay, we’re gonna fix this,” Dean said, brushing your hair back from your face. 

You closed your eyes and gasped. But when you opened them once again, they were hard, and glowing with magic. 

Sekhmet tossed Sam away from the headstone. 

Dean tried to hold her back, but she backhanded him hard. Sekhmet followed where he fell. She reached out and gripped him by the neck again, this time choking him with a vengeance. 

But then she gasped, as if in pain. She turned her head and found Sam with the book in one hand, and a lit match in the other. As the book started to burn, Sekhmet weakened. 

Dean caught her before your body could hit the ground. 

Sekhmet released a shaking breath; she gazed into the dimming sky, painted in its golden, amber hues, and knew that her soul was dying. Hot tears slipped down her cheeks. 

Dean almost felt sorry for her. Or maybe it was the sight of your pained, weeping face that tugged at his heartstrings.

“You’ll just have to join your husband this time,” he said.

Sekhmet’s lips trembled, but she nodded. “This world was never made for us…but we shall soon be together for all eternity.”

She looked up at him with a rueful smile. 

“You understand,” she said. “A soul bond can never be destroyed.”

And with that, the haze of magic drained from your eyes as your body went limp. 

Dean’s brows furrowed with worry as he called your name. Behind him, Sam helped Eileen draw near with a limping Bobby. All three watched with worry at Dean’s side…until your eyes opened, revealing their natural hue. 

You took in a tremulous breath. “Dean.”

His eyes burned with emotion, but he closed them as he held you tight. All he could do was press his lips against your forehead in relief. 

You clung to him right back, for as long as you needed to. 

AN: Fun fact — According to Egyptian mythology, the only thing that could stop the goddess Sekhmet from ending humanity with bloodshed was by getting her drunk on beer, which had been dyed red to simulate blood (which she also liked to drink, apparently). 

Egyptians (the survivors) would drink beer mixed with pomegranate juice and get drunk to celebrate not being killed dead. (Woo!)

Anyway, let me know if you enjoyed Part 2! All the fluff is coming in the finale of Part 3, very soon…

Next Time:

Dean brings you home. The two of you figure out how to move on from here...

Keep Reading: Bonus Track #3

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Tag List:

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[makeitmingi]

Cause Baby You’re My Muse [Chapter 15]

Genre: Romance, Idol!AU, Music, Slight angst

Pairing: Mingi x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Producer!Reader, IdolLyricist!Mingi, IdolProducer!Hongjoong, Idol!Seonghwa, Idol!Yunho, Idol!Wooyoung, Idol!San, Idol!Yeosang, Idol!Jongho, cameo(s) by other celebrities

Summary: You always preferred producing underground, having an unknown face and governed by your own rules. But when you start freelancing for idol groups, you say goodbye to your lone wolf lifestyle as you learn to work with idol producers and lyricists.

Word count: 3.3K

You assumed Eden must have told the boys that you were working from your home studio temporarily. Of course, only Wooyoung knew the truth as to why you had to work from home. 

“Wooyoung, are you sure it’s okay for you to be here so much?” You asked as you prepared lunch for the three of you. 

“Yeah. Unless you don’t want me to come...?” He tilted his head.

“Of course not. You being here with Haneul has been a great help. And I think she likes you too.” You smiled softly. Another thing is now Wooyoung knows what you look like without a mask. So you haven’t had to wear a mask when he comes over to visit.

“It’s no big deal for me because I love kids. And I like her too. She’s amazing.” Wooyoung giggled. You felt your heart swell with pride hearing him talking about how great Haneul was. 

“Oppa! Come!” Haneul called.

“Coming, my princess~” Wooyoung replied, prancing away to the child. Just like you, Haneul got Wooyoung wrapped around her finger.  

“I’m gonna leave this to boil. I’ll be right back.” You told Wooyoung, going into your studio. You had a call with Hongjoong and Eden, just an update call about the progress of work. 

“Is unnie playing games?” Haneul turned to Wooyoung after seeing you disappear into the work room. 

“No, princess. She’s not playing games, she’s working.” Wooyoung explained, gently moving Haneul to sit on his lap to play instead. 

“She’s always busy.” Haneul pouted. 

“Your unnie works really hard. Do you know how cool she is? She makes music for people. Like me. Your unnie makes the music then I sing and dance.” Wooyoung tried his best to explain your job and his job to the kid.

“Unnie is cool?” Haneul tilted her head. To her, you have always just been the older sister that took care of her. She was too young to understand the meaning and extravagance of your jobs, producing music and meeting famous idols. But you liked that, you liked how she treated you normally. You were just her older sister, nothing more, nothing less.

“Super cool. She’s way cooler than me.” Wooyoung gave a thumbs up. Hanuel’s eyes lit up in amazement, making Wooyoung laugh and pinch her cheek while cooing.

Wooyoung decided to let Haneul watch the ‘Wave’ music video, considering it was the most ‘light hearted’ music video and wouldn’t scare her.

“Ooh, red! Like Ariel!” Haneul pointed excitedly at Hongjoong’s red hair, comparing her to the famous mermaid. Wooyoung burst out laughing at how cute she was, nearly falling to his knees for her.

“See? That’s my best friend. His name is San.” Wooyoung paused and pointed to the blonde. 

“Who is that?” Wooyoung paused the video again. 

“Oppa! Wooyoung oppa!” Haneul pointed the real version next to her.

“That’s right! You’re so smart.” He patted her head while complimenting her. They continued to watch the video together, Haneul excitedly pointing at Wooyoung every time he appeared on the screen. 

“What’s so funny?” You came out after the call, hearing Haneul’s shrieking laughter. You turned to see the video of Ateez on the television.

“Lunch is ready.” You announced to the two. While you scooped the food and put the dishes on the coffee table, Wooyoung brought Haneul to wash her hands. You had a second, staring at the paused performance video of the entire group on the screen. 

“Everything okay?” Wooyoung asked, noticing you were lost in your thoughts. You nodded, going to scoop the rice. You placed Haneul’s rice and soup together in the dish, cutting up the other food for her to eat. 

“Here you go, baby.” You placed the kids plate in front of her. She picked up the spoon excitedly.

“What do we say?” You stopped her before digging in.

“Thank you for the food.” She grinned. 

“Good girl.” You stroked her head. With Haneul being around you more, you took the oppotunity to try and guide her through things. Wooyoung sat on the other side of Haneul, digging into the food.

“Mmm, it’s good.” He said, taking a sip of the soup. 

“Thanks. There’s not much in the refridgerator, I’ll have to order groceries soon.” You noted. Haneul has only been with you for a little over a week and yet you found yourself having to adjust to a new schedule like ordering more groceries, having to cook more instead of ordering take out and remembering there was someone who you needed to care for. 

“Do you miss the others?” Wooyoung asked. He knew that look you had earlier when looking at the screen. 

“I guess I’m used to seeing them everyday. Then now, I’m not seeing them at all. Except you, of course.” You chuckled. Even if you didn’t directly answer his question, Wooyoung knew your answer.

“You can still meet them. I’ll watch Haneul for a bit.” Wooyoung said.

“It’s okay. It’s not like we’re forbidden to see each other. Besides, I should be spending more time with Haneul now that she’s here.” You stroked Haneul’s head.

“Yeah, take this time to relax too, Indigo. Just have fun with Haneul and rest.” Wooyoung advised.

After lunch, Wooyoung had a schedule to go for so he left. You didn’t want to leave Haneul alone to work so you decided to both get dressed and go to the grocery store. It was more fun than to get them delivered.

“Ready?” You asked. Haneul nodded her head, slipping her hand into yours. The bus ride to the grocery store wasn’t too long. Haneul was constantly amazed by the scenary and everything in the big city, no matter how many times she came to stay with you. 

“Up you go.” Upon arriving, you carried her so she could sit in the cart. It was good that she could rest and you wouldn’t have to constantly watch her.

“Eomuk!” She pointed excitedly. 

“Want eomuk?” You asked. She nodded her head vigorously. You usually made stir fried fishcakes with a sweet soy sauce for her to eat with rice, it’s the only time you see her eat two bowls of rice.

“Alright, let’s get some eomuk.” You took some bags off the shelf and placed it into the cart.

“Yoghurt... Strawberry or peach?” You asked, holding up the two. 

“I like both!” She grinned. 

“We’ll get both.” You put them into the cart. Haneul was a little upset when she came back to your house and all her yoghurt was gone. Maybe you shouldn’t have brought them all to song camp for Hongjoong to finish.

When you were out with Haneul, you never wore your mask. No one would recognise you anyway. Plus, Haneul liked it when you didn’t wear your mask. 

“Cereal, biscuits, fruits, meat...” You checked your list, looking back to the cart to make sure you what you needed.

“Last stop, vegetables.” You went to the vegetable section to get what looked good. After that, you paid for everything and took a cab home with Haneul. You didn’t want to struggle with carrying the groceries and taking public transport with her so taking a cab was easier. You loaded a game for Haneul to play on your phone, just so you could put the groceries away.

Hongjoong was sitting by the pantry tables, eating his food when his phone rang. He swallowed his food before picking up the call. 

“Hello? Indigo?” Hongjoong wasn’t expecting a call from you, considering how he had a conference call with you and Edenary this morning regarding the projects. There was no noise on the other side expect some rustling.

“Hello...?” Hongjoong was going to hang up, thinking you may have accidentally butt-dialed him. 

“...Hi?” 

“Huh? Who is this? Indigo, if this is some sort of joke or prank call. You’re not very funny...” The voice that Hongjoong heard was definitely not yours. If you were doing an impersonation, it was rather convincing. 

“Haneul.” 

“Hanuel?” He frowned in confusion. Pulling the phone away from his ear, he double checked that the caller ID was yours. Wooyoung walked into the pantry, fresh out of his fitness training. 

“What’s wrong, hyung? Who are you talking to?” Wooyoung asked when he noticed the captain’s weird expression.

“Not sure. Some kid named Haneul is using Indigo’s phone and called me. Either that or Indigo mimics a child’s voice very well.” Hongjoong explained. At his words, Wooyoung visibly stiffened. He tried to hide his expression of shock but it was too late. 

“Yah. Jung Wooyoung, what are you hiding?” Hongjoong glared at the younger male. Wooyoung gulped, opening his mouth to deny knowing anything but he forgot Haneul was still on the line.

“Wooyoung oppa?!” 

“Yah! Haneul ah, what are you doing?! Who are you talking to?!” Your voice was heard on the other line and just like that, the call was cut. 

“Explain.” Hongjoong frowned. Wooyoung winced, if only Haneul didn’t call out to him. He gulped, unsure of what he was supposed to tell Hongjoong. It wasn’t his story to tell. 

“Hang on.” Wooyoung ran away, despite Hongjoong yelling out his name. He took his phone out to call you. 

“Ouh, Wooyoung.” 

“How are you calm?! Haneul just called Hongjoong and she recognised me, even called out my name! Now Hongjoong hyung is demanding an explanation and I don’t know what to tell him. He looks so scary. I think he’s going to come hunt me down until I give him some sort of excuse as to why I know the child that called him.” Wooyoung rambled.

“It’s fine, Wooyoung. Calm down. Anyway, it’s my fault for letting Haneul use my phone and not watching her properly. It’s not like Haneul is in witness protection. You can tell him.” 

“Are you sure?” Wooyoung paced up and down. He had no idea why he was more stressed about this than you.  

“Yeah. Maybe it’s better that he knows so he will understand why I am not in the studio and won’t be suspicious of you when you leave the dorm.” 

“Oh, that’s true... Okay, I’ll tell him about Haneul but I won’t tell him that I’ve seen you without your mask. I think that’s irrelevant information and it’s my special secret with you.” Wooyoung declared, making you laugh.

“Sure, Wooyoung. Thank you. It might be easier for me to invite him over to work on music. And he can meet Haneul, I’m sure she will be very intrigued by his hair.” 

“No way! Haneul is mine. She can only look at me as her oppa.” Wooyoung scoffed. 

“Alright, alright. Geez, I’m starting to think I’m not the most protective and possessive over her anymore.” 

After you hung up, Wooyoung emerged from his hiding spot (which was just the accessibility bathroom with the door locked) and went to find Hongjoong. But before Hongjoong could yell at Wooyoung, the younger covered the older’s mouth with his hand and dragged him to his studio. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Hongjoong crossed his arms with a frown, watching Wooyoung look around the corridor to make sure there was no one before closing the door and locking it. 

“I’ll explain to you who Haneul is. But it is a secret and you cannot tell the others. I’ve already asked for permission from Indigo.” Wooyoung said.

“O...kay?” Hongjoong tilted his head. 

The two sat down and Wooyoung told Hongjoong everything, even having to suddenly go get Haneul out of nowhere while the rest were making their way back from song camp. And that being the reason he knew about Haneul.

“So she’s been supporting Haneul this whole time? On her own?” Hongjoong asked. Wooyoung nodded in confirmation.

“But she’s still working a lot so I go over to help her with Haneul some times. Especially when she has calls and doesn’t want to leave Haneul on her own, unattended.” Wooyoung explained. 

“That’s where you have been disappearing to?” 

“Yeah, when we don’t have schedules, I just drop by. Been doing it since the end of song camp.” Wooyoung said.

“Indigo should have just told us. She could take time off work and be with Haneul rather than have to juggle both work and caring for the child full time.” Hongjoong shook his head.

“That’s the thing. You know how dedicated she is to her work. She won’t take any breaks or stop working. And Indigo is very protective of Haneul, more than she is of her own identity. Like she doesn’t want too many people to know about her or meet her. There might be an underlying reason why but I don’t know it to that extent.” Wooyoung said. 

“She must be special to Indigo then.” Hongjoong stated and Wooyoung nodded, noticing how you just look at Haneul with so much love and adoration. 

“I’ll respect her wishes. I won’t say anything to the others but now that I know the actualy reason why she’s working from home, I’m glad everything is actually okay.” Hongjoong let out a sigh of relief. 

“She said it would be easier if you knew since you might need to go to her home studio to work.” Wooyoung conveyed.

“I guess so. We were trying to avoid that so as to not intrude on her privacy and personal space. But if you say so, I’ll drop her a text later.” Hongjoong said. 

“Haneul... Same name as San’s sister.” Hongjoong chuckled.

“Right? You will see it when you meet her... But all I can say is, you can tell that the kid was raised by Indigo. She’s so... smart and independent. Yet, all you want to do is take care of her.” Wooyoung laughed. 

“She’s adorable. An amazing kid.” He continued to gush over Haneul. Wooyoung was always a fan of kids but Hongjoong has never seen him this head over heels before.

While you didn’t scold Haneul for calling Hongjoong, you did tell her how it was wrong to speak to strangers and that she wasn’t allowed to leave the game to do other things on your phone. You conveyed it as keeping her safe, which Haneul understood and apologised for. 

“Sleep well.” You whispered as Haneul napped. She must have been tired since she fell asleep while playing so you carried her to the room. 

“Alright.” You took the opportunity to clean up. You cleared the toys, cleaned the floors and did the laundry. To clean the floors, you did Seonghwa’s four step method; sticky roller, vacuum, mop and sticky roller again. 

After that was done, you sat down to do some work. You made sure you didn’t fully cover both ears with your headphones to be able to hear if Haneul needed you. 

“This needs a re-recording of the guide...” You typed out on your notes. 

‘I think I’ll need to re-record the guide for draft 27B before submitting it. There were some revisions made to the chorus, as per our conversation yesterday. - Indigo’

‘Sure. I’ll take note of it and ask Jongho to come in. - Eden’

‘I added the extra percussions to draft 29A like you asked for. Let me know if you need any edits. - Peperoni’

‘Draft 42′s chorus is done and ready for vetting before the guide recording can be done. - Oliv’

‘I’m still working on the arrangement for the chorus for draft 91. I’ll need more time because I need to work with Seonghwa on his next cover release first, which is the priority now. - Maddox’

This is usually how you communicated with each other, everyone in a group chat, updating on the status of their works. You all never needed to address each other, you just knew what information was relevant to you. With so many projects that were going on simultaneously, this was the best for Eden to keep track of everyone. 

‘LAKOV sent back the raw piano for Hongjoong’s upcoming cover song. I’ll need to overlay it with Hongjoong before I can start the recording. - Jangmoon’

‘I just saw the track you sent me from song camp. I will do the MIDI mixing by the end of this week and send it back to you. - LEEZ’ 

‘Thanks everyone for accommodating to me working from home. - Indigo’

‘No need to thank. We hope you’re resting well, family comes first, work can be done later. - Eden’

With how hard everyone was working and the boys being excited over the tracks you have been working on together, there was no way you could take time off. You just had to manage your time between Haneul and work. 

“Unnie?” You heard Haneul and turned around. She stood there, holding her stuffed rabbit by the foot.

“Hey, baby.” You rolled over to her. While she yawned, you picked her up and sat her in your lap. Still half asleep, she leaned her head on your chest. You wheeled yourself back to the desk and continued to do the last bit of your work. Haneul didn’t mind, content with just sitting on your lap. 

*Kim Hongjoong is requesting a video call*

“Oh, Hongjoong.” You answered the call, wearing your mask and propping the phone against the bottom corner of your computer. Hongjoong’s face came to view. Although, he leaned in when he noticed Haneul. 

“Is that her? Hello~” Hongjoong gave a friendly wave and smile. Haneul was disinterested, not moving to greet whoever was talking. 

“Yes, I’m assuming Wooyoung told you already... This is Haneul. Sorry, she just woke up from a nap.” You apologised.

“No worries, we’re all like that after a nap.” He laughed. 

“You work too hard, Indigo. You should be resting more, I’m sure you’re using whatever time Haneul is sleeping to work in the studio right? Tch, I know you too well.”

“If you just called me to nag at me, I’m hanging up.” You threatened, eyes on your computer screen instead of him. 

“Okay, fine. I actually called because Wooyoung said you’re fine with me coming to work with you in your home studio. So I just wanted to check what your schedule is like. I am free tomorrow night... My schedule ends at 5pm. If night time is not good, we can just reschedule or we can work separately and discuss it online like we have been doing.”

“No, night time is actually good. I usually try to get Haneul to bed by 9 ish. I’ll prepare your share of dinner then.” You said. Haneul started whining and squirming to get off your lap.

“What do you need?” You asked her. 

“Yoghurt...” She mumbled. 

“Okay, hang on.” You told Hongjoong, holding her hand to take her to the kitchen. Haneul chose one of the strawberry yoghurt tubes to eat. She sat on the ground next to you, enjoying the sweet snack. 

“Now, I want some yoghurt too.” Hongjoong mumbled. You watched him take the phone to the company fridge.

“You’re a 5 year old, Kim Hongjoong.” You scoffed, looking at him rummage through the fridge for a yoghurt cup. He found one with ‘Park Seonghwa’ on it.

“I’m sure Seonghwa won’t mind. I’ll just buy him another one to replace it.” Hongjoong shrugged as he tossed the label aside with no care in the world. You clicked your tongue, shaking your head at him.

“That’s very bad behaviour, Hongjoong. I’m telling Seonghwa right now.” You screenshotted Hongjoong eating the yoghurt before opening the messaging app to send Seonghwa the picture, telling him that the yoghurt Hongjoong was eating in the picture was his.

“YAH! KIM HONGJOONG!” You heard Seonghwa. 

“Wow, I didn’t think he was actually still at the company building.” You laughed in amazement while Hongjoong starting running.

“Why would you do that?! ...curse you!” Hongjoong said to you as he ran. He would have actually cursed at you but he remembered that Haneul was within earshot and you definitely wouldn’t want her to hear that. 

~

Series Masterlist

[russellsppttemplates]

It's just the beggining (Oscar Piastri)

Oscar hasn't done or said anything, so you're taking matters into your own hands

Note: english is not my first language. It's my first Oscar piece and I'm nervous posting this, but hopefully you enjoy it! 🫶

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: mentions reader's grandparents' health issues, mentions the situation with McLaren and Daniel, insomnia

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Hey, Y/N!", James called you once he saw you walk by his classroom, "hey", you greeted back, adjusting your books on your arms.

"There is a new kid, I'm sure you know, Oscar Piastri his name is, and apparently he's staying the long weekend too, like you", he trailed off, not knowing if he was stepping further than he should.

"Yes, I am staying, it's okay to talk about it", you gave him tight lipped smile, "well, I was hoping you'd keep him company - he's a bit shy, but he's very fun to be around and the teacher also thought it would be good since you're both staying", he reasoned as you nodded.

You had to stay back because your grandparents didn't live in England, and because of their old age and problems that naturally arose with that, your parents had to fly out and spend sometime with them, meaning you didn't have anyone back home, so you stayed. As for Oscar, you found out that he was staying back because his family was in Melbourne.

"At first, I just had online schooling, but it got trickier to manage and my dad needed to go back to work so I had to stay back", he explained when you asked him why he was there, "and I hope I can focus on racing, but you already know that", he scoffed softly.

"I don't think I do, I'm sorry", you narrowed your eyes, genuinely unaware of what he was talking about.

After he told you all about his career until that moment, as well as his hopes and dreams, he chuckled, "you really didn't know?", he wondered.

"I didn't! The girls said something about you moving here but I didn't listen much, I'm not that into gossip and my memory is like Dory's, I can never keep up with the latest who likes who and who flirted with what's his face", you earnestly replied.

For the first time since he arrived at the school, he felt like he could really trust someone and he could hope for new friendships on this side of the world.

You were there for his final race in F4, clapping at him on the podium, and even F3 and F2 despite your university deadlines, always making sure you could support him in every way you could.

"Hey, Osc", you said over the phone, setting your pen down the desk and swivelling in the chair. You wanted to get as much knowledge and experience as possible, so you applied to do a internship in a physiotherapy clinic near your apartment during the summer.

"Hey, Y/N, how are you doing?", he asked as you could notice the antsyness on his voice.

"I'm good, it's a bit of a slow day here, my supervisor said I could read up on a few articles", you mused, "is everything okay?", you asked.

"I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner tonight", he began, "you can come to my flat if that's okay, I'll order something in since I can't be trusted in the kitchen", he suggested.

"Fine by me, I'd like that, sounds really nice", you smiled, "I'll see you soon, then", you added, not wanting to dwell much on the fact that he didn't answer your question.

When you left the clinic, you walked to Oscar's place since the sun had graced you for the day and it was still nice to be out. Knocking on the door, you waited for him to open it, "I'm still in my scrubs as I didn't see the need to change", you said as you walked inside, hugging Oscar after dropping your backpack on the floor.

"Hey, you look nice, don't worry about it", he smiled as he led you to the living room, "I had to go and get the take out myself, but it's still warm", he said as you sat at the dining table.

"Now can you tell me if there's something wrong?", you wondered as you poured some of the wine he kept for you at his place on your glass.

"I have something to tell you actually", he played with his glass while he fought the smile on his lips, "this weekend I finally had some conversations with McLaren", he began.

"McLaren?", you asked as you served yourself of the food in front of you, taking some bimi brocoli and then some of the warm noodles.

"Yes, McLaren. We finally spoke about contracts and, this morning, I signed the official driver contract for next season", he stated as if he was saying that the sun had been out today.

"You did what? Since when has this been in the works?", you gasped, dropping the kitchen utensils and looking at him intently, "you're driving for McLaren next season?", he nodded, "like, driving on track? Oh my Goodness, Oscar! That's amazing!", you got up and hugged him, "why didn't you lead with that?", you pinched the nape of his neck playfully as you kept the tears from falling from your eyes. This was his dream and he was getting to live it as early as the end of the year when pre season preparations began.

"I didn't want to tell you over the phone", he shrugged his shoulders.

"But how? This is huge, Oscar!", you smiled, your teeth showing and eyes squinting with how high your cheeks rose.

"There were a lot of conversations about it, specially the last few weeks", Oscar explained, "they still want to keep it quiet", he warned.

"So you're driving alongside Lando?", you wondered. You only followed motorsport and the Formula series because of your bestfriend, so the assumption you made was based on what you had seen and read.

"Yes, hence why they want to keep it quiet, I've only told you and my family", he mentioned, "my manager knows that, obviously, but I really need you to keep quiet about it", he smiled.

"Absolutely, don't worry!", you assured, "this is so amazing Oscar! You're going to drive in Formula One! Aren't you amazed?", you beamed.

"I put in the work too, you know?", he dramatically feigned offense as you hugged him tighter, "this is your dream, Osc", you cooed, letting the tears fall freely down your cheeks as you swayed you both around, "I'm so proud of you", you hiccuped, holding his head close to your lips so you could kiss his forehead.

"Let's eat, this is getting cold", your best friend urged as the situation for more intimate and brought you closer and closer to the thing he had been avoiding for nearly a year.

The feelings he had been arbouring for you weren't just friendship. How could he keep himself from being in love with you? You had been there with him and for him when he was alone in a new country, being the other shy kid that spent the long weekend im boarding school, and since then you had been attached by the hip. You were kind, caring, intelligent, beautiful inside and outside and anyone would be a fool to not see why Oscar felt the way he did about you.

.

"I'm just going to a training camp, Y/N, I do these every year!", Oscar reasoned as you groaned.

"Who am I going to complain to about university? Or how noisy my neighbours are? I'm going to die of boredom", you stated, "when you come back, I will have ceased to exist because of boredom and lack of attention", you exaggeratedly threw yourself on your sofa.

"You won't, silly", he chuckled, pulling you up since his trainer was picking him up soon, "you're going to go out and enjoy yourself, okay? You'll barely notice I'm gone", he tried as you helped him with his suitcases down to the door.

"I'll miss you", you muttered as you hugged him, "enjoy your training camp!", you smiled as you pulled away, waving at him before you made your way to your place.

Getting on with the project you had to hand in at the end of the week, you got it all through to the end, leaving time to proofread later.

You clicked on the folder where you kept your photos and videos, looking through them and reliving all of the memories you had in there.

Most of them had Oscar somehow, wether it was a screen grab from one of your FaceTime calls when he was at races, picnics in the park and lazy days at your place.

You had to admit it, for your sake and Oscar's sake as your friendship was on the line. At first you thought it was just the fact that a boy seemed to want to spend time with you, so you put it to that. Recently, however, things changed perspective and you felt stronger feelings and emotions when you thought about him.

You loved spending time with him and cherished every single hour he chose to spend with you whenever he didn't have racing related duties. Every time he hugged you, you clung just a little longer to feel hia body against yours and his arms enveloping you.

Whenever someone approached you in the rare times you went out clubbing with your friends, "I have a boyfriend" became more a wish and a need rather than some made up excuse to get guys to leave you alone.

So, to sum it up, you either had an honest conversation with him or continued to dwell on feelings you couldn't keep to yourself.

.

"Y/N just sent me a picture of her notes, can you believe they ask them to know all of that?", he showed his trainer Kim while they had lunch after a strenuous workout.

"I had to learn most of that, too", he said nonchalantly, not necessarily diminishing your competences and intelligence but letting Oscar know that maybe his infatuation with you had a source elsewhere.

"Y/N is very smart, I'm sure she'll do really well - oh, she sent me a picture, she's all dressed up!", he said as he inspected the mirror picture. He assumed it was a requirement for your presentation, as you usually preferred comfy attire, since you had a pair of trousers and a shirt, some small heels on your feet and your bright smile that left him feeling butterflies in his stomach every single time, "she looks gorgeous", he said as he texted you the same words along with wishes of good luck.

"Something you'd like to say?", Oscar quesioned when he felt Kim's eyes on him as he put the phone back on the table, screen down.

"I'm just here wondering why you're not together", the trainer offered simply after he wiped his mouth on the napkin.

"No, we are not together, at least not yet", he mused. The thought had crossed his mind, admitting how he felt about you before the season began. If everything went belly up and you didn't feel the same and didn't see him that way, he would occupy his time and channel all of his energy into racing; if you did feel the same, he would have been worrying for nothing and would have a extra spring up his step for his first season in Formula One.

"Good to know you're working on it", Kim waved his fork at Oscar, "now we need to finish this and we'll do some recovery stretches", he announced as Oscar groaned, prolonging his meal as long as he could.

.

Today, Oscar was coming back from Lanzarote and you couldn't wait to speak to him. Lately, it all dawned on you.

It happened a couple of nights ago, a slight insomnia episode keeping you up when you thought about what things would be like from now on. Oscar would travel a lot more, and he would be in a much public role compared to his previous one. It would seem stupid to other people, but a lot more people would know him, and you were sure they would fall in love with him. How could they not? Hence why you wanted to quit those thoughts while you were ahead of them.

I'm on the cab to your place, it should take another 10 minutes and Can't wait to see you, Oscar texted you just as you finished tidying your living room.

You missed him dearly, so when you threw yourself into his arms, you didn't let go as he kicked his suitcases into your apartment while still holding close to him, "I kind of need to get my backpack off my back, and I can't do that if I don't set you somewhere - only for a bit at the very least", Oscar suggested after trying to balance you against his body with one arm but he didn't feel safe enough to let you go without you falling.

Reluctantly, you got back down, feet back on the floor as he discarded his backpack before he tapped your hip twice, "up again, I want a proper hug", he mumbled as you jumped back, his hands protectively holding your thighs up as he nuzzled his face on your neck, "I need you so, so much", he sighed.

"I missed you too", you replied back, "and I don't ever want to miss you like this when I don't know how to feel about you", you forwarded. Now or never, you thought as you jumped out of his hold and faced him.

"I missed you like I have never missed you before, not even when you go a visit your family or when you went away for triple headers - and I've been trying to understand why and I finally realised what it was. I like you, more than friends like eachother - for Goodness' sake, I'm in love with you", you chuckled nervously as you admitted it out loud to him, "and everyone else will love you too - I just know it -, so soon enough you won't be my Osc anymore and I couldn't not tell you. People - and these gorgeous girls all over the world - are going to like you so much and I won't be able to compete with them, so I'm just telling you how I feel. You can leave if you want or we'll just stay here in silence of that works too, but I needed to admit my feelings", you let out in one go.

Oscar smiled, a big teeth and gums showing smile as his eyes crinkled at your words, "I'm not leaving, and we are not going to be silent - at least immediately - because I want to tell you how I feel", he began, "I'm in love with you too; I have been for about two years and only realised it a year ago, and I don't want to pretend anymore. I want to be able to kiss you, to hug you, to take you with me wherever possible, to sleep next to you, to argue with you, I want all of it. With you", he said, hand cupping your cheek as his eyes asked for consent to kiss your lips.

It was as you dreamed it would be, soft, gentle and caring, lips moving in sync as you held him by his waist, pulling him closer to you.

"I thought I was loosing you to the whole F1 fandom", you chuckled, looking up at him once you pulled away.

"Of course you won't, you're my best girl", he winked, "this is just the beggining for us", he added as he pulled you to cuddle on the sofa, sharing his stories of the past days as you revelled in the feeling of being in his arms.

[captainpains]

Carol of the Cookies (Captain Rex x reader)

For @diviluscorner in the @cloneficgiftexchange. I had so much fun writing this and I hope y'all enjoy it ❤️

Prompt: Baking Cookies

Warnings: F reader, kids, family bonding, fluffy, domesticity, everyone lives au, not explicitly holiday but has the vibes

~~~~~~~

“Buir! Buir!”

Rex stopped taking off his snow boots and looked down the hallway to see his little girl, Mariel,  running towards him at full speed. She jumped into his arms, giggling when he caught her. He smiled at her and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“What have you been up to my little trooper?” He asked her, attempting to remove his snow gear while still holding her.

“We went to the library and mama let us pick out some books!” The 6 year old ecstatically explained.

“Really? I hope you picked out something you really liked.” Rex hummed as he took off his scarf and hat.

“I did. I picked a book about stars!” 

“That sounds great sweetie. Hey, how about you go to mama while I finish taking off my boots?”

Mariel nodded before jumping down and taking off down the hall towards the kitchen. Rex finished taking off his boots as promised, then shrugged off his jacket. He took a moment to look at a picture hung on the wall, a picture of his family, something that he thought that he never had. He then moved down the hall, toward the kitchen, toward you.

You were like a saving grace for him.

 He’d met you at a bar called 79s one blurry night so long ago. You were working the bar and had somehow found his drunk flirting charming enough to give him your com. He remembered sending you an apology the day after, the embarrassment he felt when his brothers recounted what happened was soul crushing. He felt less bad about it when you ended up inviting him for a cup of caf. And the rest, as they say, was history.

The war ended, and he proposed. The two of you moved to Saleucami and got a small farm, trading the food you grew at the market. Then little Mariel was born. 

Rex walked into the kitchen and smiled at what he saw. You were trying to keep Mariel from eating the cookie dough that you were making. He watched as you gently pushed her hand away from the bowl, scolding her for trying to eat it. Rex went over and reached into the, taking just a little bit of the cookie dough and eating it.

“That is not for you either.” You playfully glared at him.

“Well then why is it so delicious?” Mariel refuted, arms crossed and face pouting.

“You can’t eat all the raw cookie dough, sweetie. Or there won’t be anything to decorate, later.” You told her as you took the bowl of cookie dough to another counter to roll it out.

Your daughter gave a gasp at the realization. Rex chuckled at it. It would be absolutely devastating if there were no cookies to decorate. 

“How about you go get your new book to show me?” Rex suggested to her.

“Okay!” Mariel rushed out of the kitchen.

“She was so happy to get that book.” You told your husband as you rolled out the cookie dough.

“I bet.” Rex grinned, then wrapped his arms around you. “So, how was your day?”

“Fine. She was very hyperactive after her nap. How was your trip to the market?”

“Good. Got a great price for those meilooruns.”

You hummed in response. Rex tightened his arms, resting his head on your shoulder. He watched as you rolled the dough, then grabbed one of the many cookie cutters on the counter. 

“I missed you while I was gone, cyare.” Your husband admitted, then placed a kiss on your cheek.

“You were only gone for a few hours, dear.” You mused, cutting a few cookies in the shape of a snowman.

“Yeah, but I still missed you and Mariel.”

“Well, we missed you too.” You smiled and turned your head, giving him a small kiss on the lips before returning to your task.

Mariel came running into the kitchen, her book in hand. She excitedly held it up for her father to see. Rex peeled himself off of you to attend to your daughter. She happily took her father to the living room, where they sat on the couch and she read the book to him. You finished cutting the cookies and put them in the oven. You smiled to yourself as you thought about how

You went to the living room and smiled when you saw your daughter sitting on the sofa reading her book to her father. Rex was paying all his attention to her as she read. He was patient and encouraging as she read, making sure she pronounced every word correctly. You decided to let them have this moment of bonding, going back into the kitchen to start some dishes while Rex kept the little one entertained. 

After around 15 minutes, the cookies were done. Mariel came running in when the timer went off. She pouted when you told she had to wait until the cookies cooled off to decorate them.

“You can decorate the cookies later. Now, how about you get your favorite pajamas on and then you pick out a holo movie to watch. When that’s done, the cookies will be ready to decorate.” You suggested to the 6 year old. 

She seemed content with the idea. She ran off to her room. Rex went into the kitchen to help with the dishes while you set up the holoscreen for Mariel to pick a holomovie to watch. Mariel came back rather quickly, dressed in her blue pajamas. She excitedly picked a film about a magic tooka, then ran to the kitchen to decorate cookies.

You helped her when she wanted it, but all in all left her to her vision of what the snowman should look like. You and your husband decorated about four cookies each, while your daughter decorated the majority of them. She made a colorful mess with the icing but was so happy with how the cookies turned out. 

“Buir! Momma! You have to try one!” Mariel insisted, handing a cookie to each of you. You took a bite, while Rex (with his massive sweet tooth) shoved the whole thing into his mouth.

You praised your daughter for how good the cookies looked and tasted. Rex watched and smiled to himself.

He wouldn’t trade this for anything. 

[iminkandpaper]

Sidekick rammed into Villain, setting them both onto an off-balanced stumble into a food cart, where they collapsed in a heap.

Villain stood, dusting off his three piece suit. If he wasn't in his Civillian attire he would have retaliated much worse than the ensuing "Who the fuck are you?"

"S-s-sidekick?" The girl was suited and masked. On further inspection, he saw that her hands were cut and she had a bruise forming on her chin.

"You don't sound too sure of that," Villain said. He stared down at the girl- she couldn't be older than fourteen.

"Sidekick," she said again, more sure of herself. Sidekick backed up further into the wall. "Sorry. I didn't mean to bump into you."

"How old are you?"

"Thirteen," she blurted. Then, seeing his look of disbelief, said, "but it's okay, Hero is usually with me when I go out. Most of the time anyway. Sometimes I'm alone because he- never mind, I saw you and I just really really need your help."

"You need my help?"

"Yes."

"With?"

"I need you to hide me or something."

Sidekick hugged her knees. She looked so vulnerable. Villains lips twisted into a confused frown. Even out of the suit he wasn't exactly the best liked person out there. In fact, he had several suits against him for tax evasion, though they never could seem to catch him what with the exorbitant amounts of money he threw at the feds.

"Or something," he repeated. Villain crouched so that he was eye level with Sidekick. "Why me?"

She mulled it over for a moment before she settled on, "you're rich and shady."

At that, Villain sputtered, "I am not shady."

He didn't deny the rich part.

"You are so shady, dude." She nodded solemly, a 'there there, it's all right' sort of consolation.

"Fine. Whatever. Who am I hiding you from?" He looked mildly annoyed now, and Sidekick bit her lip. She muttered something unintelligible. "What?"

She muttered again.

"Kid, I can't hear a thing you're saying."

"I need you to hide me from Hero," she said louder. Villain almost fell over.

"From... Hero?"

She nodded. "You're the only one who can, I've seen the way you lose the feds and the... whoever else."

Villain didn't want to do it. He really didn't want to. But she looked so... sad. He didn't like it, and when Villain didn't like something, he fixed it. So he took her home, gave her a room and clothes before they sat down to talk.

Sidekick was unmasked when she came into the study. Villain glanced up. She looked frustratingly familiar, though he couldn't place it.

A fresh bruise anointed her cheek, glaring him in the face. It was an extension of the mark he had seen on her chin. This wasn't from a nighttime scrabble.

"Who?"

She shook her head and said she couldn't tell him. Villain asked again. He had a few guesses with the way she fidgeted with her fingers and avoided looking him in the eye.

He eyed the necklace she wore, a dog tag with her name and date of birth.

"I'm a Foster kid," she explained. "They set up a system where we had to wear these for in case."

It hit him then.

"You're Alias."

"Yeah." She fidgeted more with the dog tag. "Hero is fostering me, but-"

Villain made a motion with his hand for her to keep talking. She shook her head.

"Well, since its out there," Villain mused at finally knowing Hero's identity, "I should mention I'm Villain."

Sidekick looked unsurprised.

"Did you know?"

"Yes."

"Lovely. Go to bed, I'll deal with your situation."

In the morning, Sidekick woke to news of Hero dying from a heart attack. She went down to breakfast where Villain was reading a newspaper.

"Good morning."

"You killed him."

"He was an abusive shit." Villain sipped his coffee. "It was warranted."

Sidekick didn't argue.

She opened her mouth, but Villain beat her to it. "You can stay for as long as you'd like, Kid. I'll have paperwork drawn up so I don't catch a case of kidnapping."

She stayed. Indefinitely.

Sidenote: Villain also imposed a nighttime adventure ban, which Sidekick tried and failed numerous times to break.