#I don’t know what’ll help anymore

[mochiwrites]

being so honest I don’t understand how people can expect you to be doing things constantly every single day. I’m supposed to be on summer break but my university expects me to send in 80 sources for my senior thesis by next week

the very thought of doing school work right now makes me want to cry. I can’t even open a blank document and start writing for my own fics. I can’t even engage in my own hobby right now because I’m so mentally exhausted. how can you expect me to do thesis work? I’ve hardly had a break since finals

my personal life has been an ongoing shitshow since last summer. and has only gotten worse in recent months. how can you expect someone to function in society when you throw one thing after another at them?

I’m so tired and done. but I have no choice other than pushing through it because that’s what’s expected of me! that’s exhausting

[scealaiscoite]

⋆˚࿔ “we need to…” prompts 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

¹⁾ “we need to talk.”

²⁾ “we need to get out of here- now.”

³⁾ “we need to get some rest, or we’ll be more of a hindrance than a help.”

⁴⁾ “we need to at least pretend to be civil - can you find it in yourself do that much for me, please?”

⁵⁾ “we need to get our stories straight before they separate us for questioning.”

⁶⁾ “we need to get you patched up.”

⁷⁾ “we need to get warm, or the cold will kill us before we have the chance to worry about anything else doing it.”

⁸⁾ “we need to move; it’s not safe here anymore.”

⁹⁾ “we need to look the part if we want to stand any chance at fitting in.”

¹⁰⁾ “we need to work together on this.”

¹¹⁾ “we need to get to him before they do.”

¹²⁾ “we need to play this close to the vest; i don’t know exactly what’ll happen if we don’t, but i don’t think either of us will want to find out.”

¹³⁾ “we need to get some food into you, you look like you’re ready to drop.”

¹⁴⁾ “we need to get them out of there!”

¹⁵⁾ “we need to stop and plan our next move; rushing in will only land us back at square one all over again.”

¹⁶⁾ “we need to start locking that damn door.”

¹⁷⁾ “we need to get your head looked at, i swear to g- “

¹⁸⁾ “we need to increase the security around here. i’m not taking any more chances, not after this.”

¹⁹⁾ “we need to end this, and you know it too.”

²⁰⁾ “we need to get our own place. if [roommate] walks in on us one more time, i’m genuinely never going to be able to look them in the eye again.”

²¹⁾ “we need to get a handle on this before it goes public.”

²²⁾ “we need to put a stop to this before anyone finds out.”

²³⁾ “we need to get away for a while, what do you say?”

²⁴⁾ “we need to figure out what it is we’re doing here. do you feel the way i do, or has this never been more than a fling to you?”

²⁵⁾ “we need to celebrate!”

²⁶⁾ “we need to get an answer out of him, one way or another.”

²⁷⁾ “we need to get in there; how remains to be seen.”

²⁸⁾ “we need to go get help!”

²⁹⁾ “we need to get better friends.”

³⁰⁾ “we need to come out here more.”

[lichenes]

Velvet Ring

There's only one bed! And nightmares choose to not let you live them down. Prompt by the lovely @smdb-joost :D

CW: nightmares, mutual pining<333, confessions, brief mention of kissin

wc: 800

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••────────•��•❀•°•────────•

“Shit, uhhh what do we do now?” Joost said as you both entered the room. “Uhh… I’m assuming I'm taking the floor?” He laughed.

Giving the fact that you and Joost have been friends for a long time you didn’t mind sharing a bed but when he suggested taking the floor, a small piece of you thought about all the ‘accidental’ touches, his sweet smiles which seemed only brighter when directed towards you and the way he looked at you when he was sure you weren’t. You hoped for the cheesy fantasy to come true so you could finally admit your feelings for him, hoping he’d reciprocate.

“So what’ll be?” You asked, leaving it up to him to decide. “The floor ‘s fine.” You felt your heart sink but you didn’t lose hope yet. You both showered, admittedly - separately and took your places. 

“Goodnight!” 

You were surrounded by your loved ones, your friends, yet- why… why did you feel so alone, so… unwanted. ‘What was it that gave you the idea to come here and ruin all of this for us?!’ You heard opting to not answer the remark and instead shield another part of yourself from others. ‘I can’t look at you anymore, you disgust me.’ Said a familiar voice which soon manifested as Joost’s form with a malevolent grin on his face. ‘You’re nothing.’

You gasped as your body rose to accomodate for the sudden pain which you couldn’t quite place as physical nor mental. You put your hand to your chest and realised you were heaving. Joost called your name from the foot of the bed. “What’s wrong?” You crawled from under the sheets towards him. “‘s nothing, just a n…” Your voice got stuck in your throat. “Nightmare.”

“D’you need to talk about it?” You looked at him with pleading eyes. “Can you please just hold me, please?” 

You were both lying on the bed, his arm around your waist, both spent from the day you had. You were more tired than ever, trying to keep your eyes open just to feel Joost’s warmth for a moment more.With the other hand he was tracing lazy patterns into your scalp. “You know you can tell me anything…” He said clearly expecting something from you. 

‘Not yet’ you thought. ‘Not just yet.’ 

“I know.”

You spent the rest of the night sleeping soundly. His strong arms gave away a pleasant heat which was comforting. You woke up feeling well rested which was a new but not an unwelcome feeling. “Hey, I just wanted to apologise for forcing you to comfort me yesterd- well, tonight.” 

He grinned at you with his usual charming smile which made your face get just a bit hotter. “You really didn’t force me, I was just helping a friend out.” A friend? No. You were more than that. You were stars, the moon itself, the way aurora borealis casts itself over the night sky. How could he ever convey that through words?

He saw them, the signs of your affection. The silly presents, the small touches, the playlists full of his songs, the love that radiated from you. Yet still he was unsure of your intentions, your feelings.

Next night went about as well as it could’ve. Joost still on the floor invited you jokingly to join him on the floor and you, as a joke - of course - did. “It’s not very comfortable, don’t you want to get on the bed?” You both decided after a while that actually, your idea was brilliant. 

You settled into the bed and so did Joost giving just enough space for the lord. You signed and scooted slightly towards him. He followed suit and put his arm around your waist staying mindful of your personal space so as to not scare you off. “Joost you can…” Your voice got stuck in your throat once more. “Alright!” He said enthusiastically, bringing you closer to himself. Your face got seriously hot when you could feel his breath on your neck and his eyes on you. 

“Wanna tell me something?” He said as if he knew and could feel your growing anxiety. “Joost.” You started. “I’ve been…” You couldn’t speak, your knees went weak despite you laying down. “Joost. I lo-” He interrupted kissing you deeply. You reciprocated the kiss not wanting to lose another minute without his touch on your body.

The kiss left you breathless and he looked even more content when you pulled back. “I need you. I need you so badly in my life.” You said, sounding increasingly desperate. “You know I need you too.” You went back for another kiss. That night you spent in his arms, this time not by chance but choice. His voice still echoing in your ears ‘I need you too..’

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••────────•°•❀•°•────────•

masterlist

[ludwigplayingthetrombone]

Finally finished the first part of gai’s 8 gates coma and how kakashi dealt with it rewrite people have been requesting. [tw blood, injury, coma, death discussions, grief]

Kurenai: Kakashi Kks: Ah. Kurenai and...baby, what’s up? Kurenai: You mind if I come in a moment? Kks: Uhhhhh I-

Kks: So what did you need to speak about? Did something happen? K: No, Nothing’s happened. You haven’t gotten to properly see and bond with her yet. Here Kks: You know I’m not fond of kids. K: That’s why I didn’t ask. Hold your arms out. Ok, now, don’t look absolutely petrified.

Kks: She’s ok, I guess [YELP] Oi! Don’t pinch me while I’m holding your baby! K: You wouldn’t drop her. Asuma would haunt you forever! Kks: Terrifying thought, Mirai.... How are you feeling? K: Exhausted. Do you really want to hear how horrifying having a baby is? Kks: No, please don’t tell me.

K: I came over to check on you as well. Any news? Kks: No. He’s still the same. K: Is that why it looks like this in here? Kks: ...Yeah. Doctor said he may never wake up. Since we’re eachother’s medical contacts, Tsunade told me I had to prepare to make hard decisions should it come to that.

Kks: With the council breathing down my neck over a job I don’t want, I had... A bit of an outburst. K: I don’t even blame you. That’s... That they expect you to carry on like normal. Still grieving. The person you love most is gone. But you’re still here. Don’t let them just dust you off and move on again. I’ll always have your back. Kks: You and Asuma always did. Even when I wasn’t grateful for it.

Kks: I can’t tell if they just don’t care or didn’t realize, Gai’s the one who held me together all these years. Only reason I’m still here at all is because of him. I don’t think tenzou, the elders, or the village are prepared for what’ll become of me if I lose him. So, I don’t care anymore. Let them be mad. I won’t give up on him. K: You should talk to him. Kks: huh K: Talk about anything! I’m sure the sound of your voice will help him find his way back. Especially if you sound sad, Kks: uuh

K: I can hear it now, “My eternal rival is sad? Not on my watch!“ Kks: Pretty accurate impression. K: There’s been lots of source material! Kks: Maaa, Your mom’s a huge dork K: Oi! [kakashi chuckles]

K: He’ll be so upset he missed her birth Kks: Oh, devastated. I can’t wait to see the look on Gai’s face, Mirai, when I tell him /I/ held you first! When he wakes up

Kks: Hey, Gai. Kurenai said i should talk to you.

Kks: Feels weird. Most of the people I’m used to talking to like this are all... Dead.

It’s so eerie how silent you’ve been for so long. you’re not even this quiet when you sleep. Your kids come everyday to see you. Naruto and sakura when they can. Lots of others. I’ve been telling them embarrassing  stories from when we were kids since you keep making them wait. Do you remember when I came over while you and Dai were making supper

Dai: Kakashi! Good to see you, my boy! Kks: Id Gai home? Dai: He’s helping with supper! Go on, inside, you’re always welcome! Kks: Ok Dai: Atta boy Kks: Hey, G- !? ummm? Gai: OH!! Rival!! Kks:  Is that a lid?! Gai: Correct!! It stops me from crying while cutting onions! A win for me!!

Kks: Against.... the onions? Gai: Yep! KKs:[snicker] Gai: Laugh all you want! Not everyone can comprehend innovation. Kks: Whatever. You forgot this at the training grounds. I know it’s yours there’s a turtle on it. Gai: See! You’re already tearing up! Kks: Am not Gai: Also, thankyou so much! Kks: Bye, I’m leaving. Gai: Could it be? You’re scared I can cut much faster than you! Kks: I am not scared. Gai: Good, I think we have another lid! Kks: YOU-!

Dai: Great to see growing boys with such a hunger! I’ll never have to prep onions again! Kks: I think about that everytime I chop onions now. You’ve altered my brain with all the ridiculous things you’ve done. Can’t even look at the toys you’ve gotten the dogs without getting emotional

Kks: Just knowing you’re here still, I can barely function. It’s pretty pathetic... Your hair’s getting long. Turning into your dad.

[gai’s heartbeat] Kks: Gai

[gais heartbeat continues]

[gai’s heartbeat continues] Kks: If anything should happen to me, you’ll rush over, right? Gai: Damn right, I will. Dont you worry about that.

[Gai’s heartbeat]

Kks: I miss you

[manygeese]

Lost trio at IKEA for a reason unknown to both me and you ✨

~*~

“Why are we even at Ikea?” Leo grumbled, glaring at the dining table in front of him.

“We don’t have a table for our apartment yet and I’m not going to eat on the floor.” Jason pulled out a chair from its place to inspect it.

Piper snorted. “Yeah, Leo, he was raised by wolves, but he’s not gonna eat on the floor. Have you no shame, sir?”

Leo barked out a laugh at Piper’s fake British accent. He laughed harder when he saw Jason’s disgruntled pout.

“So, what’ll it be, Jace? The Nordviken or the Ingatorp?” Piper said, her voice dropping an octave when she said the names of the tables.

Jason furrowed his brow. “The what?”

Leo recovered his composure enough to point at the label on the table he was nearest to. “They’re the names of the tables, babe,”

“Oh. Um. The Ingatorp?”

Both Piper and Leo made an incorrect buzzer sound. “Wrong answer,” Piper supplied when she noticed Jason’s confused look. “It’ll look… let’s just say, out of place.”

“Yeah, the only place it’d look good in is a dumpster. I will not have it within three hundred feet of me.” Leo made a retching sound and pointed to his mouth like a kindergartner seeing their parents kiss.

Jason laughed. “You are, at best, three feet away from it right now. Better skedaddle.”

“Fine. If you don’t love me, you could’ve just said so.” Leo let out a dramatic sob. “Who says skedaddle anymore?” He added under his breath as he left the room, holding up a peace sign over his shoulder.

A moment of silence fell over Piper and Jason after Leo “skedaddled.” Piper sighed. “He’s gonna get lost, isn’t he?”

“Yup.”

“And we’re gonna have to go after him at some point?”

“Yup.”

“Do you just wanna get it over with?”

“Nope. I meant it when I said I wasn’t going to eat on the floor.”

~*~

Half an hour later, Jason and Piper were wandering around the store, looking for Leo. Jason was wheeling around a cart with the table he had chosen, and Piper was earning them odd stares from people as she yelled Leo’s name.

“If I was a little gremlin in Ikea, where would I be?” Piper mumbled.

Jason shrugged. “Every part of this store is a playground for him. I mean, there are basically furniture Lego sets on every shelf. He’s right at home.”

“Oh my gods, you’re right, he could be anywhere,” Piper lamented.

“Yup. I’m starting to regret not getting it over with.”

Piper closed her eyes and nodded as they turned the corner. When she opened them, she let out a sigh of relief.

Leo was facing away from them at the end of the aisle, holding a stuffed bear in front of him that was larger than his own torso. He seemed like he was in his own little world.

“Emilio Michelangelo Valdez,” Piper admonished.

Leo spun around with the bear still gathered close to his chest. “Oh! Hey guys. I was wondering when y’all would get here.”

Jason made a sound in the back of his throat that sounded suspiciously like growling.

“Chill, Jacey, don’t go all wolf on me. I know you’re trying to be more than your beginnings,” Leo said as he put a hand on Jason’s shoulder. He shoved the bear towards him. “Take the Djungelskog, it’ll help you calm down.”

“I don’t want the Djungelskog. I want to go home.” Jason pushed the bear back to Leo.

“I want the Djungelskog!” Piper piped up, opening her arms. Leo got down on one knee and offered it to her like it was a proposal. She squealed and squeezed it lovingly.

Leo turned to Jason with round, pleading eyes. “Can we get the Djungelskog, Jason? Please?”

“If it means we can go home, by all means.”

~*~

Jason was watching Leo assemble the table. He had started ten minutes ago and he was already halfway done.

“Leo, the pizza’s gonna be here in five minutes, I hope you’ll have it done by then,” Piper called from the living room. She was playing on her phone on the couch and hugging the Djunkelskog with one arm.

“Piper, you don’t even live here. Why are you ordering pizza?” Leo asked, pulling out a screwdriver from his tool belt.

“It’s pizza. Everybody likes it. Consider it a house warming gift.”

“Thanks, Pipes,” Jason said, then going back to staring at the directions without a clue of how to follow them. Technically, he was supposed to be reading them to Leo, but dyslexia was a bitch and the print was tiny, even with his glasses on. Thankfully, Leo seemed to have it covered.

“Done!” Leo threw his hands up in victory a couple of minutes later. For some reason, he was covered in sawdust, even though the directions didn’t have any cutting involved. He stood up and wiped his dusty hands off on his cargo pants.

As if on queue, the doorbell rung and Piper ran to answer it. She came back with two boxes of pizza. Leo tried to grab one of them, but she slapped it away before he could snatch it. “Wash your hands, repair boy.”

Leo groaned and stumbled over to the kitchen sink as Piper set the food down.

“Hold on,” Jason interjected, gesturing towards the new table, “did we get any chairs?”

Everything was quiet for a moment.

Leo sighed. “Do you just wanna eat on the couch?”

Piper pulled a 180 and took the food with her. “Good idea. Wanna watch Legally Blonde?”

“Hell yeah.”

[cakerybakery]

!!

Can you imagine if Eve was so devastated after Cain and Abel that despite knowing they were supposed to usher in humanity, Eve couldn’t bear the idea of being pregnant again.

That Adam makes the first deal with the devil because heaven is just like, tell her to suck it up and get on with it, but he loves Eve and can’t hurt her by forcing himself on her.

So he asked Lucifer to give him a way to switch roles with Eve. He’ll bear her children.

Lucifer understands their grief. Lilith recently suffered their first miscarriage. He can’t undo heaven curse upon her, this child wasn’t even planned, but she had been excited. They hadn’t realized when heaven cursed her to never have children it would curse her to miscarry if she became pregnant.

So he makes the deal, Adam will bear all of Eve’s children… plus one.

He tells Adam of the curse that perhaps one day Lilith would want a child and should she, Adam will bear it for her with Lucifer as the sire.

Adam agrees. Heaven is upset at this turn of events but turns a blind eye, they don’t know what exactly Adam’s deal was but he ends up in heaven so it must not be so bad.

It’s been so long, he’s died and even started the exterminations, but one day Lucifer reaches out.

A deal overrides even death. He puts in for some vacation and goes down to hell. Things are tense and it takes a couple months of trying, but it works. He’s away for nearly a year before Charlie is born.

He doesn’t really think about Charlie as being his blood. Adam feels more like a surrogate. Especially since Lilith takes to her so quickly, is so grateful for Adam’s help.

Things go south for him and Eve though. Eve feels betrayed. She hadn’t known about his end of the deal until then.

Things get worse after Lilith and Lucifer split. She confides in Adam and Adam is pissed off on her behalf. Lucifer didn’t take to Charlie the same way Lilith did. He loved her but spent more and more time in a depressive state and wasn’t able to spend much time with her. Lilith couldn’t handle it anymore as she was also being pushed away.

If Lucifer was depressed from seeing the evils of humanity, maybe seeing more sinners killed would cheer him up? They up the exterminations.

This really inspires Charlie to put a stop to the killings.

Vaggie doubts their cause, especially since they’re no longer targeting the worst of humanity but everyone and falls. The hotel is formed. An angel is killed and now Adam is angry and scared for heaven if they can be killed what’ll stop hell from turning on them?

They fight, Adam tries to actually kill Charlie because her birth is where everything went wrong. Maybe if he gets rid of her, things will go back to the way they were.

Lucifer isn’t teasing Adam about fucking Eve, he’s teasing Adam about the deal, that Eve liked fucking Adam more than she’d liked being fucked by Adam.

That he put on weight after the pregnancies. Just generally being an asshole about their deal.

Lucifer blames Adam for the failure of his marriage. Lucifer felt like he was cheating. That Charlie was an affair child. It sent him spiralling and he never told Lilith how he felt.

Adam revives as a sinner and things are difficult. There’s just arguments and hostility until one day Adam, pissed off that Charlie is acting so calm and trying to see the best in everything while he’s raging and Lucifer and him are at each other’s throats again goes, “I can’t believe I gave birth to you! You don’t know anything that’s going on! You can’t fix everything with hope and happiness, puppies and rainbows. Back off!”

And he doesn’t even realize what he’s said until he sees her shocked face. Hears the silence. His brain catches up to his mouth and now Lucifer is really mad.

But Charlie wants to know what Adam meant. Lucifer tries to lie but Adam can’t look into eyes so much like Lucifer’s on that day thousands of years ago. How they looked with tears as Lucifer told him about the miscarriage. How they both cried over the lost children.

He breaks. He tells Charlie everything.

Even the stuff Lilith told him. Charlie confronts Lucifer and he has to admit why he was distant.

Only with everything out in the open at last do things start getting better.

Adam and Lucifer can actually talk about what happened instead of dancing around it and blame each other for feelings the other didn’t know about.

The sex was good but they both felt awful about having it. And guilty for enjoying it.

Charlie wants to know why she was so easy for both of them to give up. Adam assured her that it was because he was doing for Lilith and that Lilith loved her, he didn’t try to get attached because he was doing it for someone else. For Lucifer it was the guilt and he felt horrible for feeling guilty and for not being able to be around as much as he wanted. He’s sorry for not being there for her, for taking his feeling out on her. She does eventually forgive them and enjoys getting to know more about them when they’re not trying to hide the truth from her.

Things aren’t still right with Eve or Lilith but there’s not much they can do. Eve doesn’t want to forgive yet, nor see Adam to let him try. Eve has her own journey to have to come to terms about everything.

Lilith isn’t going back to Lucifer, she’s still hurt he pushed her away as well, but now that things are out in the open though she’s finally able talk to Charlie like how she always wanted, openly without fear of revealing the truth. Their relationship gets better.

There’s a shift now. Adam and Lucifer are enjoying each other’s company. Then one day they’re sharing stories and laughing but Lucifer is looking at Adam differently, sweetly, the mood is shifting. Adam’s close enough they could kiss, he leans in a little closer, Lucifer does too. Now sex is just good without the guilt. Eternity is a long time, spending it with each other sounds like a fine way to enjoy it.

[hugsandchaos]

FELLOW PHANS, OH MY GOSH

Okay! Listen! Listen, okay?!

So reveal gone wrong, something happens, Danny ends up in an alternate universe where he never existed and Dash was good friends with his family since Jazz tutors him, messed around with some of their stuff, and became a Halfa. They were there, along with Kwan, so they know. And they’re helping him. Sure, this would be a good chance to study ghosts, but Dash’s health, physical and mental, comes first.

Danny’s been a Halfa for over a year at this point, so he’s experienced. Dash isn’t. He’s only been a halfa for a little over a month. He’s the one fighting off ghosts, until Danny comes along and handles it. Dash thought it was awesome and tried talking to him, but he just left.

And in school, Danny meets Sam and Tucker all over again. He also avoids Dash, which is kind of a bummer because this Dash is actually a great guy! He wants to welcome the new kid, too. He looks pretty freaked out, probably new to the town and could use some encouragement, but he keeps flinching and avoiding him.

Danny understands that this is an alternative universe. Clockwork knows him. But everything is just so weird. Dash is good, a halfa, and his parents aren’t hunting him? They’re helping him?? It’s so baffling to him, and it really hurts a part of him. Why couldn’t his own parents have been like that?

Also, Lancer worries for Danny because he’s always nervous about something and was practically falling asleep standing up when he transferred. Despite there being forms signed, he also can’t find any trace of his parents and Danny tenses up when he mentions them. He also gets really anxious when the Fentons are around or mention anything to do with ghost hunting.

The kid had a panic attack when there was a lightning storm and Lancer could’ve sworn he saw litchenberg scars on the back of his neck! He refuses school counseling because he “doesn’t trust therapists anymore”!

As you can imagine, Lancer’s questions are putting Danny under a lot of stress. More than necessary, yes, but he has no idea what’ll happen if his teacher finds out he’s on his own? How will they react to him living in an abandoned observatory just outside of town? Is he going to be forced somewhere else?

Bonus bits!

Dash has a fire core, as to be expected, but he doesn’t have ghost sense like Danny. Or he does? I’m still deciding.

We don’t see Vlad having any ghost sense, only Danny and Dan, and Frostbite said that his ghost sense was part of his ice powers.

On the other hand, we could say Dash suddenly feels uncomfortably hot when another ghost is nearby maybe?

He hasn’t unlocked his fire powers yet, but he’ll get there! He admires this new ghost who’s been helping him out, and actually handles the fights much better and quicker than him, and he wants to learn from him so badly.

Somehow, he hasn’t put two and two together yet, but Danny has.

Danny is scared of the Fentons. No one knows why. He just looks really put off by them and tries to leave as quickly as possible without being mean. He backs up when they approach and he stares at any new ghost hunting tech is in their hands.

Haven’t figured out Dash’s obsession yet. Maybe dogs? Or anything cartoonish? Again, still figuring it out.

Some of this might be subject to change, please remember that incase I make another post changing my mind about something. That’s all for now. Bye! 👋

[thetarttfuldickhead]

Forever obsessed with everyone at Richmond including their reporter watching Roy yelling at Jamie and dragging him about and correctly identifying that Roy is head over heels for that boy

They know what's up! And see, what particularly amuses me about this is

A, that I’m not sure that Roy has correctly identified this as him being deeply, deeply obsessed with Jamie and his well-being. Like, prior to 3x12 I would have said that, of course Roy gets it, he’s not that oblivious, but then he’s Like That in the final episode and yeah, I ain’t convinced he ain’t a silly goose anymore. (He’s not all oblivious, though, sitting on Jamie Tartt’s childhood bed, being all concerned about him and shit, but if asked he’d probably spout some inanity about being concerned like he’d be concerned for any of his players and it’s just slightly surprising because he never expected to feel anything but seething hatred for Jamie so.)

B, Dottie Lasso’s reaction, because she assumes that Jamie is in trouble – very reasonably, given the way Roy’s acting! – and that just makes me wonder what’ll it’ll be for new players joining the team post-season 3. I mean, if they’re at all familiar with the Premier League they’ll know that Roy and Jamie has this Thing, what with both their dust-ups and early morning training sessions being decidedly public, but the exact nature and minutiae of that Thing can’t be all too clear, so when a few days into the pre-season Roy suddenly starts demanding absurd things of Jamie or hauling him off in an angry way, man, they’re still a bit… um. What is happening? Will Coach kill Jamie? Why is everyone so calm about this? Can this happen to me? Will everyone keep tying their shoes when Coach drags me off to kill me too? Is Coach going to make me do another hundred push-ups after training when everyone else gets to go home? Help?

And Isaac has to step in and be like, no Roy ain’t gonna treat you like that, it’s a Roy and Jamie thing, don’t worry about it, actually maybe we should talk about some of the Roy and Jamie things so they don’t freak you out, or you decide you can use Coach’s shoulder to fall asleep on just because Jamie does.

Maybe there’s a PowerPoint. Maybe it becomes a sort of rite of initiation, having a tiny freak-out the first time a new player is confronted with Roy and Jaime being Roy and Jamie.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

If I Love You Too (Part 1)

Summary: It’s been six months since the accident. Six months and Jensen can’t stand feeling helpless anymore. He knows he needs to start figuring out how to work again while being a single parent and juggling his concerned family. He absolutely doesn’t want it but he needs help in the form of a live-in nanny to help with the day to day. As much as he didn’t want that nanny or her help, she’s going to make him feel things he never dared to again and in the process, discover that some people in life get more than one soulmate...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jenssen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 9,500ish

Warnings: language, angst, death of a spouse, lying, mentions of injury/death of a spouse/death of a parent, internal turmoil

A/N: Please enjoy the first part of this Jensen POV series! I am SO excited to be sharing this story with you from Jensen’s side! 

______

“Hey buddy,” I heard as the door from the bedroom to the private balcony opened. I didn’t move from my seat, stayed still and quiet as the door shut behind me. A hand ruffled my hair and I turned away from the touch. “Want to come downstairs and watch Christmas Vacation with everyone? Kids are down for the count.”

“No thanks,” I said quietly, waiting for my brother to leave me alone again. The hand didn’t leave my hair and I closed my eyes. “I’m a little beat after a long couple days. You guys go ahead without me.”

“Thanks for the new toolset. I really like it,” he said. 

“You’re welcome.” I opened my eyes slowly, staring at the wood decking, Josh still playing with my hair. 

“Next year won’t be as hard. I promise.”

“Well it was a little hard to try and accommodate my children asking for their dead mother for Christmas,” I said. I held my breathing steady, pulling on all of those little acting strings tucked away in the back of my head to stop myself from saying more. “Maybe we can take all the kids ice skating tomorrow.”

“Sure. Mom and dad would like that,” I said. “Maybe get a real smile on that face.”

I stared dryly at the decking, overdue for a power wash but then again, what did it matter. A little bit of must and dirt didn’t bother me.

“I’m not saying six months is enough time to get over what happened. But find a better therapist for me. This one isn’t-”

“Josh I’m tired. I set up everything all by myself this year. I’m just tired is all. I had fun today. I promise,” I said. 

“Alright. Get some sleep then baby brother,” he said, ruffling my hair one last time.

“Not a baby,” I mumbled.

“Hey,” he said. I looked back and up at him. “You’re my baby brother no matter what, understand?” I nodded, Josh returning it. “Sleep in tomorrow. I’ll handle breakfast.”

“Maybe,” I said, turning away, glad for when the door slid open and shut once more. I looked back, Josh gone, before leaning forward in my seat. I looked up at the dark cloudy sky, rubbing my palms together. “Honey if you’re up there…”

I squeezed my eyes shut, quickly forcing them open, scrunching up my face.

“I don’t want to feel like this anymore. Nothing. Numb. But it’s been too long and everyone wants me to be better and...I can’t let ‘em down. It’s been six months. I should be better. But I just don’t...help me. Please. You have my back. I don’t know what to do except pretend the rest of my life and I’m scared what’ll happen if I do. It’s been six months and I can’t take it anymore. Tell me what to do. Please.”

A gentle breeze stirred through the air, a quiet rumble of thunder off in the distance.

“Dee?” I glanced up only to be hit in the face with hard droplets of rain, the sky opening up and pouring down. I blinked the water away, staring down at my lap. “You’re not up there. You’re just fucking gone.”

It took a moment for me to make myself rise, bringing water into the bedroom. I locked up and ditched my wet clothes in the bathroom, standing in front of the shower absently. I caught my reflection in the glass, turning to the floor length mirror, tracing a finger over the scar on my hip. I narrowed my eyes, breathing deeply. I caught my reflection, quickly looking away.

But I forced myself to look back, to meet the hard green eyes, meet the pink edges to them, to look down at the scar and then back up.

“The one fucking time you’re not driving…” I grit out, clenching my fists. “I fucking hate you. I fucking hate you you worthless son of a bitch. If you were driving you could have saved her. You could have stopped it.”

I slammed a fist against my thigh, hitting the scar again. I forced myself to stop, release my hand and instead step in the shower. I turned the water to warm and stepped under the stream, closing my eyes. My skin warmed after a few minutes and I got out, changing into a fresh pair of briefs after I was dry. I stood in the closet, almost reaching for a shirt to sleep in when I went to the other side, flipping on the light. It was mostly empty, a few boxes in there but most of it was given away to family and friends or donated. 

I stopped at the items still on hangers, grabbing a gray oversized fleece hoodie. I tugged it on, still too big for me even now. Definitely too big when I was a little twenty five year old. I grabbed the collar and tugged it up, taking a deep inhale, narrowing my eyes when all I smelled was a bit of dust. I hit off the light and went out to the bedroom, crawling into the middle. 

I hadn’t worn the sweatshirt in a decade, not long after I started dating Danneel. I pulled up the hood and plopped down, sliding under the covers, turning to face her old side of the bed. It wasn’t too long after that I heard the door crack and hushed whispers filled the room.

“I told you he said he was tired. I mean, he did prep for everyone by himself. I’m tired and all I had to do was drive down here,” said Josh quietly. “Let him sleep.”

I shut my eyes, feeling a blanket be pulled over top of me.

“Sleep good, sweetie,” I heard mom say softly. The door to the room shut a few seconds later and I glanced back at it, plopping back down. I was exhausted. That much was true. I’d been exhausted the past six months. First it was the accident but trying to keep up with different projects and the brewery and suddenly being a single dad was fucking hard.

I rolled over and grabbed my phone, typing into google.

“Ten easy steps to finding a nanny,” I mumbled to myself. “If it’s so easy why’s there’s ten fucking steps…”

I sighed and exited back out, scrolling down the page, finding a more promising one.

“I’m thinking of getting a nanny,” I said the next day while I finished a cup of coffee with my parents and siblings, getting a few stares. “Okay. I see y’all have opinions on that.”

“I think it’s a great idea,” said Jared, smiling as he walked in with some bags in his arms. “You could do with the help.”

“You’ve had nannies before. You have a nanny now,” I said, Jared setting the bags of gifts down by the tree.

“Yeah so I know how useful they can be,” said Jared, getting some quick hugs from everyone. “I need to steal him for like ten minutes. Be right back.”

“Coffee,” I whined, Jared grabbing my hand and dragging me after himself. He pulled me over to the front door, letting me slip into some sneakers before heading outside. “What?”

I was pulled into a bear crushing hug, waiting a beat before I returned it.

“How’d it go, Christmas eve and Christmas and all that,” asked Jared. 

“It was great.”

“We don’t lie to each other.” I rested my chin on Jared’s shoulder and closed my eyes.

“Hard,” I said quietly. “Dee’s parents are coming in today.”

“I know they are,” said Jared, rubbing my back.

“You’re supposed to be down at your parents place with your family.”

“I’m supposed to be with my brother. Don’t start your defensive shit. I thought you and your therapist were making some good progress on that.”

“I know,” I said. I hated that stupid lie I’d told. Hated every time someone brought it up. Especially hated when Jared did. 

A small piece of me wondered if Jared would leave me too if he ever found out. 

“Hey, hey,” said Jared, tugging me around the corner of the garage, holding me up when I started to cry. 

“Don’t tell them or anyone,” I said, wiping the tears away with the backs of my hands. Jared caught my arms, my bottom lip wobbling. “Please. They treat me...if they see me get upset…please.”

“I won’t tell,” he said, wiping off the rest of my face while I cleared my throat. 

“I good?” I asked, rubbing off my face. I blinked a few times, Jared nodding. He caught my shoulder, gnawing on his bottom lip. “Jared you promised.”

“I’m not gonna tell. I just hate that you’re afraid to let your family see you cry.”

“To be fair I hate to let anyone see me cry.”

“What makes me so special?”

“You’re you,” I said, a small smile on Jared’s face. “Our asses our stuck together forever whether we like it or not.”

“Oh I’m gonna annoy the shit out of you in the afterlife, don’t worry about that,” he chuckled. I nodded, glancing down. “I think the nanny idea is really good. You need help getting the kids to school and daycare and running errands. I mean your parents came up when you went out to LA for your suit being built but...you’ve got to be in Canada for The Boys in February. You’re gonna need help working full time again.”

“I know. I’m so tired all the time. I know that’s why I’m upset. I just need some sleep man.”

“How about tomorrow once everybody’s headed home, you guys come hang out at our place. We can help with the nanny stuff. We’ve been through it. We know the good agencies in town. Gen’s got a whole file on all that stuff.”

“I was thinking of a live-in nanny?” I said. “Is that weird? I feel weird enough having some stranger come in.”

“It’s not weird. I mean you got the guest suite near the garage. If anything you don’t have to stress so much. Someone’s right down the hall. It’s a great idea. I’m proud of you.” I raised an eyebrow, Jared rolling his eyes. “What, I can’t be proud of you?”

“Why? I have to hire a nanny because I can’t figure out how to do it alone when there’s only a gajillion other parents on the planet that don’t have a choice of-”

“You’ve been shitty at asking for help since I met you you know,” said Jared. I shrugged, Jared catching my arm. “I know this is the last thing in the world you want to do, admit you need help, but you’re the one that decided you need a nanny. No one talked you into that. You did that even though you don’t want to. That’s why I’m proud of you, jackass.”

“We were going to get one before…to help Dee out more. When I was away,” I said. I nodded, taking a deep breath. “Next year will be better. I’ll get back to acting, things’ll feel more normal.”

“Don’t go and turn into an optimist on me Jackles. I need my grumpy old man,” chuckled Jared.

“Old man my ass,” I said with a smirk. “You headed back?”

“Nope. Sadly your ass is stuck with me all day,” he said. I smiled, heading back around the front of the house with him. 

“Mind giving me some back up in there with all the nanny questions I’m about to get?”

“Duh,” he said. “But first let’s finish your coffee before you bite someone’s head off.”

It’d been three days and I had narrowed it down to three nanny agencies in town. I’d gotten about fifty applications to sort through for interviews, rubbing my hands over my face after reading through most of them.

“Dad! Can I have sugar cookies?” asked JJ, skipping into the office. I glanced at the clock on the wall, an hour past bedtime for all three of them. 

“Gettin’ kind of late kiddo. Why don’t you head up to bed and brush your teeth. I’ll be up to read in a minute, okay?” I said, forcing a smile. She stared me down, a look I recognized all too well. “JJ.”

“I know how to read,” she said with a huff.

“Well I guess you don’t need me for anything anymore huh?” I said without thinking, watching her face fall. “Honey-”

She took off running and I sighed as I sat back and stared up at the ceiling. I shook my head and got up, wandering upstairs, surprised to find the twins in bed asleep. JJ was in the middle of her bed, angrily holding her dog. She shot me a dirty look, a perfect match to my own.

I sat down on the edge of the bed, reaching out and tucking her hair behind her ear. 

“You put your brother and sister to bed for me?” I asked. 

“Yes,” she grit out. 

“You don’t have to do that, sweetie. That’s my job.”

“You have to do everything by yourself now. It’s not fair.” 

“No it’s not. You’re too young to learn that life isn’t fair, even if you do everything right.” She scooted over into my lap, burrowing herself into my arms. 

“We were good. Why didn’t Santa bring her back?” she asked. I tucked her head under my chin so she couldn’t look up, closing my eyes and scrunching up my face.

“Santa can do a lot. But he can’t do that. No one can,” I said. I stroked her hair, holding her tight. “It’s okay to miss mom still.”

“I know it is. I’m just scared.”

“Scared of what, munchkin.”

“I don’t want you to go.” I looked up, swallowing down the lump in my throat. 

“I���m not going anywhere,” I said. I kissed the top of her head, wrinkling my nose. “How about we save that cookie for a snack tomorrow, okay? I promise we can spend the day playing. I just have to do a little more work tonight.”

“Okay,” she said. She didn’t move and I didn’t have the heart to do it myself. It was one of the rare moments when one of the kids crawled in my lap, crawled all over me playing and poking and kicking, diving into my bed, waking up to one or all three of them having stolen my covers in the night...I could forget for a few seconds. Things were okay.

A few seconds later though she moved and I was biting the inside of my cheek. I put on a smile, tucking her in and turning on her light in the corner before hitting off the overhead one and shutting the door. I went back to my office, staring at the screen. I reached a hand over to my phone on the desk but stopped myself. Jared had spent the whole night before with me.

“You’re fine, you’re fine, you’re fine,” I breathed out quietly, clicking through to the next nanny profile.

Y/N Y/L/N. 29 Years Old. Home Pair Consultant 3 years. Nanny Core 2 years. Nanny Core Consultant 3 years. Independent Contractor Nanny Services 3 years.

“Certified in CPR and first aid. Homeschool certified K through 2nd grade. You sound like a little over achiever, don’t you,” I mumbled, reading through the rest of the page. “Specializes infants to age ten. Okay what do your ex-employers have to say…”

I found similar comments to some of the previous women, all nice things, got along with kids great, very easy going, etc. But one made my eyes go wide and chuckle.

She didn’t sleep with my skank of a an ex-husband when he pursued her. She brought this news to my attention discretely and regularly took on additional time with the kids while I met with divorce lawyers. It was unfortunate that I could no longer afford to employ her on a single income but she truly cares about the family she works for. My daughters cried for a week when we had to end our services with her but I was very grateful she didn’t brush the incident under the rug.

“Yeah, I think you’re getting an interview for that alone,” I said with a tiny smile. “But what the fuck is a consultant…”

It took a few days but eventually I had the eight prospective nannies lined up for interviews on Saturday. So far all seven were very nice ladies but I just could not stand the thought of occupying the same room for more than an hour let alone have them live in the house. The issue must have been with me if none of them seemed like a good fit. I really didn’t want to be doing this and I must have been putting off some strange vibe. 

“Maybe I don’t need a nanny. Maybe...maybe I just don’t need a nanny. I can do this. I can do this on my own. If I just manage work around the kids schedule...and mom and dad come down and watch the kids while I’m up filming and if I fly back and forth every week and mid week...I can do this. I can do this. I don’t need a nanny. I got this. I so got this.”

I sighed when I recalled the same pep talk two weeks ago I’d given myself. The one that led to contemplating quitting acting that night and then proceeding to lay in bed crying half the night.

“Nope. Nope. We just have to calm down. Calm down. It’s not you. Just didn’t find the right one yet. That’s all,” I said to myself, breathing quietly. I rubbed my eyes and yawned, looking over at the coffee maker. “Oh coffee. At least I’ll always have you.”

The doorbell rang and I sighed. 

“Great. You’re early,” I groaned. I threw my head back and went to the front door, tearing it open. A woman stood there in a pair of dark jeans and sneakers, a plain light gray t-shirt on, hair pulled back in a ponytail, a few strands falling loose and framing her face.

Oh well she was definitely the cutest by and far.

I realized I was staring and blinked, rubbing my face.

“Hi. You must be from Nanny Core,” I said. She smiled and cocked her head.

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N from Home Pair,” she said. I closed my eyes and rested my head against the side of the door, contemplating just slamming it right against it. 

“The last girl was from Nanny Core,” I said, opening my eyes, shaking my head. “I’m so sorry. Yes, Y/N. You’re the one that’s a consultant, not firmly associated with Home Pair, right?”

“Correct,” she said, stepping inside when I let her past. She looked around and smiled, seemingly used to a larger sort of home.

“May I ask what the distinction is?”

“Mostly it has to do with benefits,” she said. “Consultants pay out of pocket for their own or negotiate with their client for those to be covered.”

“Gotcha,” I said with a yawn. Great I looked like a fucking asshole. She looked ahead past the front hall towards the back of the house where the kitchen and family room was. I wiped a hand over my face, a pit already in my stomach, the poor girl already probably already waiting for the interview to end so she could leave. “I’m sorry. I must seem like an ass.”

“You seem tired is all Mr. Ackles. Not a crime,” she said with a smile. I wasn’t expecting such a genuine answer, not a bullshit I’ll pander to you cause I want this job, kind of answer. She was different than the other applicants for sure. Something warm and caring to her. I nodded and found myself smiling, probably the first genuine one I’d had in months.

“Mind if we do the interview in the kitchen over a cup of coffee?” I asked.

“Wherever you like, sir,” said Y/N. I started to head over to the table, pausing when she was trying to kick off her sneakers, one of them tied a bit too tightly to go off easily. She hopped once, nearly tripping and I looked away, chuckling quietly before she was by my side again. 

“Uh, for the record, call me Jensen. None of that sir stuff. They must teach that at nanny school or something huh?” I said. I led her over to the table, pulling out a chair. “I noticed all of you do it.”

“Something like that,” she said. She took a seat and I stifled another yawn, turning and blinking my eyes, heading to the coffee machine. I reached for the cap to put some grounds in, the thing falling and bouncing across the counter, straight into a dirty bowl in the sink. Naturally. I leaned over the counter, holding the edge tightly, squeezing my eyes shut. “How about I make the coffee and you take a seat, hm?”

“I’m okay,” I said, popping my head up and turning around with a smile. She looked me up and down, something gentle about her.

“Well making you coffee is probably going to come up in my job quite a bit so consider this part of the interview. It’s alright, really,” said Y/N. I stared at her, a little smile forming on her face. She wasn’t sucking up or trying to kiss my ass. There was a kindness to her that was incredibly attractive. Something in that little smile causing the tiniest little flutter. I blinked, slipping past her.

“Thank you,” I said. She started to make a cup, keeping my back to her. I put a hand on my chest, the flutter dissipating. After a moment I sat down, turning back just as the cup started to fill up. She watched it carefully but with an ease that said she was used to working with that kind of maker. Her hand slipped into her back pocket as she shifted on her feet, her ass rounding out amazingly in her jeans.

What the fuck was wrong with me? God she was only making a cup of coffee for fucks sake.

“I’m gonna ask you the same question I’ve asked all seven other women I’ve talked to today,” I said, forcing a smile when she picked up the mug. 

“Yes?”

“Why should I trust you to watch my children?”

“Honestly?” she asked. I nodded and she had that look on her face again. Soft. Slightly concerned. Still smiling. Beautiful. She set the cup down in front of me, a look to let it cool, the barest glimmer of a smirk when I reached for it anyways. There was another flutter in my chest and I took a long sip, burning the tip of my tongue. Part of me hated it, hated that it was possible to develop an attraction to anyone else. But that other part...it was so happy to be feeling something again, especially something good. “You shouldn’t.”

“I shouldn’t. That seems counterproductive.”

“I wouldn’t trust any stranger with my child. Trust is earned, not given. I think the real question is do you believe I’m capable of earning that trust with you and that’s something intrinsically only you know.”

“How so?”

“You meet a lot of different kinds of people with this job. My gut reaction to you is stressed, overwhelmed, sleep-deprived father who doesn’t really want any nanny at all but is forced into this situation. It’s going to be impossible for you to trust any of the seven woman from earlier or me off the bat, Jensen. You should be thinking of who will you come to trust. Who can you count on.”

“This is why my wife should have been the one doing this,” I said. I took a sip of coffee, biting back a small smile.

“We could always re-schedule for when she’s available.”

“Oh, we’d have to wait a very long time for that,” I chuckled. She looked lost and I realized it was time for that part of the interview again. I smiled, hoping she wouldn’t feel awkward. “She passed away unexpectedly six months ago. Car accident.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” said Y/N. I nodded, pursing my lips, catching her open her mouth after a beat. “My mom died kinda unexpectedly. I know it’s…harder.”

“You’re young. How old?” I asked. She shrugged, glancing down.

“Turned thirty today,” said Y/N. She was cute, still young but she was starting to click. Her kindness, that air about her. Maybe she could sense something going on but was too polite to ask. I let out a small laugh, shaking my head when she started to frown.

“Well Happy Birthday. I meant with your mother though. If that’s okay with you I mean.”

“It’s fine. I was sixteen,” she said. I dropped the smile and took a deep breath. No one deserved that. Especially not a kid. I was a grown man and I could barely handle a loss that close. But she seemed...okay. 

I just wanted to be okay again. It’d been too long though and I cleared my throat.

“That…fucking sucks doesn’t it?” I said.

“So does losing your wife,” said Y/N. I nodded and offered a soft smile.

“Yes it does. I’ve grieved. We all have. The kids are small. They’ll be okay.”

“Is dad okay?” she asked. Not really but that was far too much to put on anyone, especially a stranger.

“Yes. Ready to start moving on with life again,” I said, looking her up and down once. I hope she accepted the offer. She didn’t have to be perfect. She didn’t have the most certifications out of all of the applicants but she was the only one I genuinely enjoyed being around and that was the most important thing at the end of the day. “You’re kind. Not in a I’m trying to get this job kind of way. Just kind.”

“Well being cruel doesn’t sound like very much fun.”

“You’re not trying to impress me.”

“The first rule of nannying, Jensen. You think you’re interviewing us when in reality we’re interviewing you too.”

“How am I doing so far?” I asked, realizing after the words were out how flirty it sounded.

“Nice coffee choice,” she said with a smile. “You respect people. You’ll employ me but won’t treat me like I’m second class. You’re checking the boxes so far.”

“What if I don’t check all the boxes?” I asked.

“You don’t get to know the luxury of knowing the answer yet, Mr. Ackles,” said Y/N. “Interview isn’t over.” It wasn’t arrogance in her voice when she spoke though. Almost careful, protective.

“You got fucked over by somebody, didn’t you.”

“Also perceptive,” she said, rubbing her arm absentmindedly. “Like I said, I don’t tolerate being treated unkindly anymore. It’s why I left my last position.” 

“I have one more question. Would you treat my children like they’re your own?”

“Again, asking the wrong question,” she said. I sat back and crossed my arms, smirking at her. She gave it right back and I nodded.

“What exactly should I be asking?”

“Will you treat my children kindly and with respect but take charge when required?”

“What’s the difference?”

“One is me doing my job and the other is me doing yours.”

“How old did you say you were again?”

“Thirty today.”

“Right. Well I think I know where I stand. Do you have anything for me?” I asked. Hopefully she just accepted the pay offer without a fuss.

“Can you show me a picture of your kids?” she asked. I stared for a brief moment before reaching back and taking out my wallet. “You answered my question.”

“I didn’t show you anything yet.” 

“You’d be surprised how many fathers I’ve met don’t carry pictures of their children in their wallets. That one is just a me thing.”

“Your dad do that?” I asked, putting it back. She made a face, looking away.

“Maybe,” she said with a shrug. She didn’t look back for a long moment. Dead mom at 16 and distant dad. It wasn’t a stretch to see how a girl like that wound up nannying straight out of high school. “I think I know where I stand as well.”

“I’d like to hire you,” I said. She smiled and I instantly relaxed, aside from a few flutters stirring again.

“Assuming our negotiations go well, I accept,” she said. We shook hands, hers small and soft, but the grip was solid. Kind but she’d kick your ass if she had to. I smiled, flutters going off stronger now that the nerves of finding someone were dwindling.

“I did come up with what I thought was fair for salary and benefits. Let me go grab the paperwork and hopefully settle on something,” I said. I went down to the office, grabbing the pile of offer papers off the desk and a notebook. I froze when a pleasant chill ran down my spine. 

I was happy because I’d found a good fit. I was excited over a lot of stress being gone. 

That was it. That was it.

I swallowed and went back out to the kitchen with a smile.

“If I’m missing anything let me know. I-”

“This is my weekly rate?” she asked when she reviewed her pay sheet. 

“Oh no. That’s your daily,” I said as I sat down. I swallowed when she put the paper down. “So I think that’s-”

“Jensen. I have to ask, things like insurance, are those coming out of your pocket or mine?”

“I’ll cover the expenses of your health, dental, all of that. You just choose and I’ll subsize it as part of your paycheck.” 

“This is for a live in position. Um…can you just…explain what makes up that daily rate number?” she asked. I cocked my head. I thought I’d spelled it out in the paperwork but I probably missed something.

“It’s simply your base pay. Obviously I pay for housing, utilities, gas obviously. I will get you a credit card to make purchases with for the kids and all of that so it’s simple to keep track of. You’re free to any of the food in the kitchen. I’m guessing the salary is the sticking point here.”

“Jensen,” she said, scratching her head. 

“I can go up fifty more dollars a day,” I blurted out. 

“Jensen. This is way, way too much money. Way too much,” she said. “The average rate around here is about twenty five an hour or two hundred a day. Jensen this is double that. Are you factoring in like time and a half for additional nights and weekends?”

“No. That’d be on top of that. I thought that was a fair value based on the fact you are going to be taking care of the most valuable things in my life. It’s gonna get taxed too so it’s not like you see all of it.”

“You’re sweet, Jensen,” she said, writing down a number at the top of the page. “The average in Austin is twenty five an hour. I would be very happy with that.”

“You have to literally be the first person in existence to negotiate their salary down from the offer,” I said, shaking my head. She was watching my kids. She deserved to be paid well for doing her job well.

“Are you rejecting my offer?” she asked. She stared and I took the paper and crossed her number out, jotting down thirty five and spinning it back. “Jensen.”

“Y/N,” I said, crossing my arms. Why couldn’t she just accept? She scowled and I huffed. Of course she had a stubborn side. “I came down. Now it’s your turn. Do you accept?”

“I will accept on the condition that you get four hours of what we’d call evening or weekend at the normal rate every week.”

“I can agree to that,” I said with a smile, writing that down, happy when she signed the page. “So medical plan. Single, plus one, family?”

“Single for all that.”

“I should mention that there is an in-law suite off to the other side of the garage where you’ll be staying. It’s just down the hall but it has its own small living area and kitchenette. There is a separate entrance to it. If you have guests over I just ask you keep them to your area of the house.”

“Absolutely. I don’t tend to bring people over much anyways while I’m on the job,” she said. “Alright. Everything looks good to me.”

“Awesome. Are you available to start Monday?”

“Sure,” said Y/N. “It gives me plenty of time to move in things tomorrow so I can jump into the kids routine first thing Monday.”

“Perfect. I’ll show you around. We can start with your side of the house.” 

I got up and Y/N followed me down to the guest suite in the front corner of the house. I opened the door for her, Y/N slipping inside and looking around. It wasn’t large but it was decent enough for one person.

“Like I said, I know it’s small. Please like, seriously watch TV out in the family room at night if you want or hang out wherever or the yard or pool. This is just your own space when you want to be away from us.” I said. I got a hum out of her and showed her the rest of the space, Y/N running her hand over the bedding. “If there’s something obvious I’m missing please let me know. A cleaning service does come by every two weeks on Tuesdays at around ten in the morning. They’ll do in here too. Otherwise you can keep after yourself. Cleaning stuff is in the laundry room. Oh yeah. Um, this is probably the last time I’ll like, ever come in here unless you need help moving things in since this will be your space.”

“Thanks. I don’t have too much. I do have one request before we sign all the paperwork.”

“What’s that?”

“I’d like to meet the kids if that’s alright. There’s not much point in hiring me if they hate me.”

“Fair point. We’ll get ‘em over here and then get you all squared away,” I said. “One second.”

“Of course,” she said. I stepped out of the suite and ducked into the garage, Jared answering on the second ring.

“Get through all the interviews?” he asked. 

“Yeah. I uh, hired the last girl. She’s great. Super qualified, really get along with her,” I said.

“Good man. I’m glad you found one. When’s she start?”

“Monday. But she wants to meet the kids, says if they don’t like her there’s not much point in her doing this.”

“Smart lady,” chuckled Jared. “I’ll drop ‘em off in ten. You can tell me how it went when I get there.”

“Sounds good,” I said. I shoved my phone back in my pocket, smiling for a moment when I stepped back in the hall and caught a whiff of her perfume. I went back to the doorway, Y/N fumbling with the curtain in there. “Uh so is there anything I can get you? For your room?”

“No, this is great. Can I check out the rest of the house?” asked Y/N. I hummed and followed her as she wandered around the downstairs a bit, poking her head in the office and home gym, spotting the laundry room and humming. 

“The playroom is downstairs, kids and me are up,” I said. “There’s a loft and little reading room up here too if you like that sort of thing.”

“Your home is beautiful,” she said, walking up the stairs, following me down the hall. She smiled when she entered, looking at the bookcase. “You read these.”

“Hm?”

“Some people buy pretty books for their home libraries. But these are all random, a little messy. You read,” she said. She stopped at the sliding door out to the small balcony, looking out at the yard. “Your house feels homey for how large it is.”

“Thank you,” I said. “Anywhere besides my room is free to use.”

“Of course. I take it you do your own laundry then?” she asked. 

“I’m a big boy. I can do my own laundry,” I said. She hummed, spinning back with a soft smile. “Um. Y/N. Chores and things like that...those are my responsibility, not yours. You’re here to-”

“I have to do some chores. It’s part of taking care of kids. My job is to take care of them but also make dad’s life easier. If I have to wash a bedspread or go get juice from the store or whatever it is, I’m gonna do it. I’ll hang back but I’ll also do my job.”

“Understood. You’ll let me know if I’m stepping into your territory?” I asked. She shook her head and hummed, walking past me and out to the hall, going down to the kids rooms. “I miss the joke?”

“I’ve worked for one other single parent before and three divorced ones. They couldn’t do jack shit for their kids. They barely knew them. I don’t think I’ll have that problem with you Jensen,” she said.

“To be honest I’d rather not be doing this,” I said. She didn’t seem disappointed in that strangely, more, sad almost. “But I’ll get the hang of it.”

“Yes you will,” she said, stopping outside Arrow’s room. “Youngest daughter?” she said, pointing inside.

“I’m sorry. We were looking for what is youngest daughter,” I said. She rolled her eyes and smiled, following me inside. “This is Arrow’s room. She and my son Zeppelin are twins. He’s across the hall.”

“I’m going to guess four years old?” she said.

“How’d you know?” She smirked and pointed at a birthday card sticking out from the bookcase, a large 4 on it. “You’re very observational.”

“I’ve nannined a lot of 4 year olds. Their rooms tend to be organized chaos,” she said. She looked out the window, back to the room.

“Can I ask why you do that?”

“Fires,” she said with a shrug. I blinked, not even considering that for a second. “Never hurts to be over prepared. I’ll learn the house soon. This is your son’s room?”

“Yeah,” I said, following her across the hall, Y/N popping out after a moment. “My oldest is next door. The kids have a bathroom they all share across.”

“What grade is she?” asked Y/N, stepping into the room. 

“First. Second. Second,” I said. “She’s seven.”

“What’s her name?”

“JJ. Well, Justice Jay, but she’s always JJ.” 

“What was your wife’s name, if that’s okay.”

“Danneel,” I said with a quick swallow. She smiled, laughing to herself.

“Should have known with names like that mom had to have something unique too,” she said. “So JJ is in school. What about the little ones? They have daycare?”

“Yeah they go to daycare normally five days a week but sometimes if it’s a quiet day I don’t have them go. Or one goes and I spend some time with the other. They already know how to do shit I didn’t learn until first grade,” I said.

“This one’s a reader too,” she said, picking up a book from the nightstand. “She’s ahead for her age.”

“That’s what the school tells me. If only she was as good at her math,” I said.

“It’ll click for her eventually. She’s smart. Probably a visual learner. I used to draw problems out myself,” she said, setting the book down. “Any after school activities? Sports? Clubs?”

“I have a calendar I’ll show you. It’s the only way I keep it straight,” I said. She went past and to the hall, glancing down the long stretch of hallway, a pair of double doors on the other end. “That’s my room.”

“Okay then,” she said. 

“I mean...you can look if you want.”

“I’m going to give you the same courtesy as well. I won’t be going there unless there’s an emergency.” I nodded, turning to head back downstairs, accidentally bumping her. 

“I’m so sorry,” I said, Y/N giggling and shaking her head at me.

“Dude. Relax. My job is to make you more relaxed so get on that, okay?”

“Okay,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck.

“What am I gonna do with you Jensen,” she teased, heading back down the hall and her feet on the steps down after a moment. I glanced down and put a hand on my stomach, sliding it up to my chest. I shut my eyes, taking a deep breath.

I was nervous. Or excited. Or something. Happy to have found a nanny. That was all. That was really all.

“Y/N I’ll be down in a minute. The kids should be here soon,” I called, quickly ducking into my room and closing the door. I sat down against it, staring ahead blankly. “It’s a crush. S’just a crush.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, pressing my palms against my head.

“Jensen,” said Jared and I jumped, the door pushing open. I looked up, Jared quickly shutting the door and kneeling down. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“Where’s Y/N?” I asked, blinking a few times.

“Playing with the kids in the yard. They kinda love her already. What is going on?” he asked. I held up a hand before shrugging. “No no. You’re not getting off the hook that easy. What happened?”

“She made me coffee,” I said, Jared making a face. 

“I don’t understand what you’re-”

“Do you remember when you met Gen? You couldn’t get her out of your head for weeks. That feeling when...some part of you knows something you don’t?” I said. 

“Jay. What are-”

“Do you remember?”

“Of course I do. Why?”

“I just had it for the second time in my life,” I said. Jared sat down on his bottom, crossing his legs. “I’m kinda freaking out.”

“Y/N?” he asked. I nodded, Jared sliding over next to me. “I mean she’s pretty. She’s beautiful. You might just have a crush. I mean you don’t go anywhere anymore except the store or work or doctors appointments. Maybe it’s just cause she’s new...and you know the difference between a crush and something else. You’re sure?”

“Not to be a complete fucking sap but I only ever felt like this once in my life and that was after that first real conversation with Dee I had when we carpooled. It took me a week to figure out what it was but I knew and it’s that same…” I said. Jared nodded, throwing his arm over my shoulders. “I barely know the girl. It’s a crush. It’s a crush. That’s it. That’s all it is. That is all that it is.”

“Not to be a complete fucking sap myself but when you know dude you fucking know. You’ve been through it once and you know what it feels like. Maybe...maybe it is just a crush. But maybe she’s the one that’s gonna get you to be fucking happy again. Maybe get you back out there at least. Maybe she’s just a jumpstart huh? Not saying you’re gonna marry the girl or she’s your soulmate but maybe she’s what you need right now, right?”

“Jared. I was never going to date again. Ever. Pretty women...I didn’t care about them. I don’t think I’ve even gotten off since the accident. I just wanted to be a good father and be good at my job and that was all that was left for me,” I said. Jared sat up and shook his head but I shook mine right back. “I know that’s not what I told you but you just wouldn’t shut the fuck up about that shit so I told you what you wanted to hear.”

“Ignoring that fucked up shit, which we’re gonna fucking talking about,” he said as I rolled my eyes, “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I swore off women forever and now my stomach is doing flips like it’s my first middle school dance but it’s…”

“It’s what?”

“I talked to her for half an hour. That’s the best fucking half hour of my life these past six months. Easily. I don’t feel like shit around her and right now, I don’t feel like shit and I forgot how fucking good it feels to not feel like shit. Do you understand?” I asked. Jared nodded, pulling me into a hug. “What do I do?”

“Not feel like shit,” he said. I groaned and he rested his chin on my shoulder. “Jared.”

“If she makes you feel good and happy when you actively were against those things, what do you think she’ll be able to do for you if you give her a real chance?”

“I’m her boss. And Dee-”

“Dee doesn’t want you to spend the rest of your life being a good father and good at your job and feeling like shit and nothing else. She wants you to fall in love again and fall as hard as the first time.”

“It’s just a stupid crush,” I said. I stood up, walking across the room, putting my back to him. Only a second passed before I felt him behind me, a hand on top of my head.

“Maybe it’s a stupid crush. Maybe she is the start of your life again too.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I said, his hand sliding down to my back.

“Remember the first time I helped you shower after the accident?” he said, curling his fingers around my waist. “Bit my fucking head off the entire time while I helped you stand up.”

“Yes I remember,” I grumbled. I crossed my arms, still not turning around. 

“That was the first day I saw you after the accident that you weren’t loaded up on pain killers and you were different. You’ve been different.”

“Gee golly Jared. I wonder why?”

“Past six months...you’re still that guy in the shower yelling at me that he doesn’t need help.”

“Just because I don’t want to date again doesn’t mean I’m fucked up. I’m forty two with three little kids. There’s nothing wrong with not wanting to fall in love again,” I snapped, spinning around. He nodded, smiling to himself. “What.”

“You make it sound like you’re gonna have a choice in whether you fall in love when you meet the right person.”

“I’m not gonna fucking fall in love with some girl I just met. There’s a million reasons why it won’t happen.”

“You’re not gonna have a fucking choice.”

“It’s all my choice,” I grit out. Jared shook his head and I clenched my fists.

“I’ve known you over sixteen years. Better than any other human being. I haven’t seen a real smile on your face in over half a year. Except when I came in here and you were sitting there with the stupidest grin on your face talking about Y/N. It works out, it doesn’t work out. Either way, you’re along for the fucking ride so you might as well enjoy it.”

I swallowed, glancing down.

“Have you ever lied to me in the past six months about how you’re doing? How’re you feeling? Anything?” asked Jared. The therapist lie shot to the front of my mind, logic coming in and screaming shut up, more logic coming in to say it’s Jared, it’s okay. “I’m guessing by the mental gymnastics you look like you’re going through, that’s a yes.”

“Jared-”

“I could have done a lot more to help you. I let you fester on your own and-”

“I don’t need you to take care of me. I’m an adult.” I frowned and walked in front of him, Jared pursing his lips. “Leave.”

“Jensen.”

“Leave.”

“No.” He shook his head, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I get to take care of you because I love you. If you don’t like that well tough shit.”

“Get the fuck out of my house and stay out,” I growled. Jared looked down, shaking his head and walking away. He was out of the room when my skin prickled, the happy flutter feelings gone, a pit opening up instead. “Jared. Jared.”

I went to the door, catching him halfway down the hall. 

“Jared.”

“I’m going.” He turned the corner, beanie out of view. Fuck. I ducked back in the room, sitting on the bed, toes curling into the fabric. My head was face down in my knees when the door opened softly. My eyes darted over, Jared walking back inside, pulling his beanie down over my head. “I wasn’t going anywhere. Just had to see if you’d ask for help.”

“I’m not very good at it. Obviously,” I said. 

“No. No you are not. But what’s in the past, we can’t change it. Just what’s in front. And for you that is the cute nanny that you may or may not end up falling in love with.”

“Jared I can’t love her.”

“Why not?”

“I love Dee. She was it.”

“I’m not saying to stop loving Dee. Shit she’d never want you to do that. But honestly, does she want you to be like this for the rest of your life? Or does she want you to laugh and smile and find a best friend again?”

“I know she wants me to be happy. I know what she wants. You don’t get it.”

“Then help me get it.”

“Say I fell in love again. Say I managed to find the right person and I fell in love. I gave her everything I have left and I’m happy. Then she gets in an accident one day or she has an aneurysm one day or she gets mugged one day or whatever it is. Say she doesn’t come home one day. I can’t put myself through that again. I just can’t. It would destroy me. I can’t do that again.”

“I won’t tell you what to do, Jay. I’d never say that. But you have a choice to make then from what I’m hearing you say.”

“What?”

“Stay single, be afraid of being hurt again and get by. Or risk being hurt again and maybe you get hurt, maybe you don’t, but you’ll be out there living again. Dude if you never want to date again that is completely your choice. But don’t not date because you’re afraid. It’s like I said before, like you were saying, if you find that girl, the right girl, you won’t have a choice at all.”

“She’s my employee,” I said, shifting my legs, sitting cross legged. “Not to mention I don’t even know if she’s single. You saw her. No way is a beautiful woman like that on her own. Then there’s the age difference and the kids thing and the whole I’m an actor thing and-”

“Didn’t say to propose to her. Just...put out some feelers. Maybe if the topic comes up and she’s single, mention you got a friend that’s like you, see if there’s interest.”

“God I hope she’s single,” I said. He smirked, bumping my shoulder. “Shut up.”

“Tell me about her,” he said.

“I don’t know a whole lot,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. 

“But you like her.” I nodded, getting another bump. “I think you’re gonna marry that girl.”

“What?” I laughed. “We don’t even know if she’s single!”

“Nah, you’re gonna marry her. I got a feeling.”

“Oh I see. A feeling.” 

“I’ve known you over sixteen years and haven’t been able to get through that thick head. She’s known you half an hour and she got in without even trying. I wonder where I got that idea from,” he said. I lifted my head, Jared’s face relaxed. A lump formed in my throat and he reached out, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Jensen. I heard it in your voice when you called me just now. Something’s different.”

“I don’t want to be in a relationship,” I said. “I honestly don’t.”

“Maybe she’ll be the one to make you change your mind on that.”

“She’s not even interested in me. I’m a widow with 3 small kids. I’m away from home a lot. I’m the worst person in the world to date.”

“Maybe. But you’re a pretty good person to love and be loved by. Might just be enough, even for a grumpy Ackles.”

“She did make me coffee,” I said quietly, lip twitching up.

“Coffee?”

“I know. But it’s...I don’t know. Something...changed. She was pretty when I opened the door but when she made me coffee, that’s when I noticed that feeling.”

“Maybe she’ll make you coffee again,” he said, smirking as he stood up. “Outside.”

“Hm?”

“Outside with the cute nanny. Let’s go,” he said, dragging me off the bed to my feet. He pulled off the beanie and pushed me out of the room, being a little shit and trying to pick me up. I kicked my feet up and we both went backwards, Jared grinning and giving me that look.

“Oh you’re on little shit,” I said, flipping my leg around, Jared yelping as he got pulled down to the side. I jumped on top of him, Jared rolling me back. A spark of pain shot down my hip, Jared instantly up and off. “I’m alright.”

“You stretching it out still like you’re supposed to?” he asked. I rolled my eyes and he helped me to my feet, waiting as I did a few wide circles with my leg. “Do your at home physical therapy ya idiot.”

“I”m perfectly fine. Just save the wrestling for the rug next time,” I said. “You want to say hey to Y/N?”

“No that’s cool. I’m sure I’ll properly meet her when you’re ready for me too,” he said. “Oh and Arrow and Zeppelin ate way too much candy at my house so have fun with that.”

“I hate you.” He grinned and let out a chuckle. “Hopefully they burn off some running around out there at least.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” he said. “Do you want to grab a drink later? Maybe hit up the brewery?”

“I don’t know,” I said, rubbing my arm for a moment. 

“Do you want to be on your own tonight?” I blinked, Jared shrugging. “Might as well be point blank about it. Since you’re never lying to me again, right?”

“Let me call up the neighbors, see if the girl next door can watch the kids tonight. I wouldn’t mind a little fun,” I said. 

“Shoot me a text and I’ll swing by around eight,” he said.

“Jared.” He stopped turning to leave and I sighed. “I’m sorry I lied to you. I’m...we rarely fight. Rarely. But this is kinda big and I want to tell you the truth but I’m scared if I do you’ll walk out that door and never look back.”

“We can fight, Jensen. I’m sure we’ll have more someday. We can get pissed as hell at each other. But your ass is stuck with me forever and I’m stuck with yours. I know you and I love you and you’re my big brother. We’re not supposed to agree all the time. We’re gonna hurt each other sometimes. That’s just part of being a family though. I’ll never walk out on you just like I know you won’t do that to me. It’s different right now. I know. I don’t want this to stress you out. You got enough of that going on. Tell me when you’re ready okay?”

“I never saw a therapist. I lied to get everyone off my back when I was still...like this after a few months. I thought I could handle it on my own. I’m sorry for lying, especially to you.” Jared nodded, biting his bottom lip for a moment. “You’re angry.”

“Angry at myself, not you. I know what it’s like to feel alone, that alone. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. I’m sorry you’ve felt that alone Jensen. I didn’t realize you felt that badly and I should have. That’s why I’m upset. Not at you.”

“You’ve grown up more,” I said quietly.

“If we can get back to me being the one freaking out over shit and you being the adult I’d prefer that,” he chuckled. He put his hands on my shoulders and smiled. “I got your back. Always.”

“I don’t want to go to one.”

“You’re a big boy. You can decide on your own. Just...call me when you feel shitty next time?”

“I will. I promise.”

“Or to talk about Y/N,” he teased. I rolled my eyes, Jared giving me a quick hug. 

“Dick.”

“But I’m your dick. I’ll see you tonight.”

“See ya.”

______

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

[oigimi]

. warm drinks .

. arthur x reader . 1k words . day 1 of 12 days of arthur .

I sighed and flopped down on the couch by the fireplace. A hard day’s work had gotten to me, and my body physically couldn’t support itself any longer. Cleaning after ten vampires was not for the faint of heart. I closed my eyes for a moment, not because I was particularly sleepy, moreso due to fatigue. My eyelids couldn’t remain up anymore, and as they got heavier, I started to succumb to the spell over me. Just a few more moments…

“Ah, there you are, bird,” a familiar voice chimed. I didn’t open my eyes, but my other senses quickly registered who it was: The mansion flirt and prolific mystery author Arthur Conan Doyle. I sat up and stretched, taking a sharp inhale. 

“What do you want?”

“What do I want? I don’t know if you’d like the true answer,” Arthur chuckled. “Well it’s quite late and we haven’t seen you in hours.”

I blinked. “What do you mean? It’s only nine o’clock.”

“I disagree. The clock does too,” Arthur mused, pointing to the clock on the wall.

“Jesus, it’s two-?! I didn’t even realize, I just wanted to rest for a sec.” I rubbed my head and stood up. “No wonder I’m aching so badly. Jeez, my back hurts so bad.”

Arthur laughed a little bit. “Poor thing. If you’d fallen asleep in my bed I think you would have had a much better time.” Satisfied with the pout on my face, he looked around the room. “Alright, alright. Come on, I know what’ll make you feel better.”

“Oh really? And what’s that gonna be? A full body massage or something?”

“Don’t give me ideas! No, you’ll like this.” He led me through the dark hallway, almost reaching for my hand at one point before remembering we knew where we were. I couldn’t help but smile. Arthur was a lot of things. He was flirty, he was smart, he was determined, he was sometimes annoying, but deep down inside, he had a heart too big for him to know what to do with it. I could tell how much he cared for the other residents. He teased Isaac because he liked spending time with him. He was always around Theo despite his rough exterior because he understood him like no one other than Vincent. He was grateful for Comte and Sebastian. He coated his true feelings in a thick layer of frivolousness, refusing to let anybody peel it back. That was why he was leading me down this hallway. That was why he cared enough to look for me. And that was why I needed to begin trying to peel as much as I could until I got to the center one day.

“Okay, tell the truth. What’s happening?”

“Nothing! Nothing. You’re so abrasive, love. Here.” He entered the kitchen and turned the lights on. “Let’s get you to bed soon, but first…” With a few swift motions, he got out some milk and dark chocolate out. “I figured you’d need something to drink.”

I once again blinked quickly, and felt a swift, sharp pang in my chest. He was making hot chocolate for me? Really…? I had completed my psychoanalysis earlier, but it was still hard to fathom someone like him doing something so nice for me specifically. A man treating me sweetly, who ever could’ve thought? “Ah… thank you. Here!” I got on my toes and opened the cabinet, grabbing two china cups and a shaker of nutmeg. “Let’s drink it out of these. And it tastes better when you add nutmeg than sugar, in my opinion.”

“Nutmeg? Alright then. Are you sure we should drink out of those? You’re pulling out all the stops for me, I’m flattered. I hardly see you and Sebas using them. They must be for special occasions. Do you consider this a special occasion, (Y/N)?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know, really.” We heated up the chocolate and watched it boil. It wasn’t the only thing warming up; I felt my cheeks and ears slowly becoming pink as I became more aware of the intimacy of such a domestic situation. I turned my head to try and steal a glance at Arthur, who looked away from me. Apparently he was attempting to do the same. But why wasn’t he performing his usual schtick? 

“The chocolate is done,” he hummed, going to take it off the heat. Arthur poured it into the two cups, and added some warmed milk and nutmeg into both of them. “I hope you’re right about the nutmeg. I can’t say I’ve ever tried it with chocolate before.”

“Really? It seems so popular though!”

“Indeed it is, but I’m not a trend follower, am I?”

“Uh huh.” I laughed and sat down at the table, feeling some of the tension leave my body. “Alright, bottoms up.”

We each took a sip of the chocolate, and let out our own satisfied sounds in perfect sync. 

Arthur looked down at his cup and took another sip. “Mm, I daresay this is the best chocolate I’ve ever had. Perhaps it’s your nutmeg, perhaps it’s because you’re with me.”

“I might be able to say the same, really. Thanks, Arthur.”

“Oh? And why are you thanking me?” He rested his head on his hand, smiling a little bit. “For our time together?”

I nodded, huffing a little bit. “Yeah, I am! It means a lot to me, you know. Seeking me out so late and making something nice for me… It’s small but it really means something, you know. I think you’re a lot more genuine of a guy than you let on.”

He stared at me for a moment, a little stunned. “Well, if that’s how you feel.” Grinning again, he wrapped an arm around me and gently rested my head on his shoulder. I sighed again, this time, a little bit more peacefully. He smelled like fresh parchment and ink. I could’ve just basked in it forever, paired with his cologne and strong shoulders… My eyelids grew even heavier, and before I knew it I was asleep again.

Arthur kissed the top of my head, rubbing my side gently. “Goodnight…”

[specialagentlokitty]

Hotch x Teen!reader - my responsibility

Hi it’s me again, I sent a Hotch x teen!reader right before this and I don’t know if I can request again but I had another idea for a Hotch x teen!reader So Aaron Hotchner x teen!reader who is somehow involved in a case and Hotch comforts the reader, maybe the parents to the reader are the unsubs and reader wonders what’ll happen to them as they can’t live with their parents anymore - @panic-in-the-multiverse 💜

You had no idea what was going on, you didn’t know anything about what your parents were doing, so when you were pulled out of class to talk to the FBI you were really confused.

“Do you know where your parents are right now?” Hotch asked.

“No sir.”

He nodded his head.

“Do you know when they’ll come back?”

You shook your head and he sighed a little.

“Is there anything you could tell us that could possibly help us find them?” Rossi asked.

You offered them a few locations you knew your parents liked to go, and you were forced to sit in the station with two of the other agents.

“Are my parents in trouble?” You asked.

Prentiss and JJ looked at one another before looking at you.

“Your parents… they’re…” JJ trailed off.

She didn’t know how to explain this to you.

How did you tell a teenager, someone’s child, that their parents were responsible for a string of murders across the city?

That their parents were purposely taking peoples lives and that they had been living with killers their whole life?

How did you tell someone that the same people who picked them up when they fell, cleaned their injuries, hugged them when they cried, gave them life, were taking other people’s lives?

You stared at them both, and you looked down.

“It’s them… isn’t it…?”

“We’re so sorry.” Prentiss whispered.

You nodded, trying to fight back your tears, and you couldn’t bare to watch as you parents were dragged in by the rest of their team.

You simply got up and walked out of the building, sitting on the steps out the front.

Hotch watched you leave and he placed a hand on Derek’s shoulder to stop him going outside.

“I’ll go.”

Hotch walked outside and sat next to you, placing a hand on your shoulder, running his hand up and down your back as you cried.

“It’s okay, you’re going to be okay.” He said softly.

You sniffled and looked at him.

“You.. you don’t know that!”

You shook your head a little.

“Whats going to happen to me…?” You sniffled.

Hotch looked at you, and he sighed heavily.

“I don’t know… you’ll be assed by child protective services, then placed with a foster family.”

You weakly nodded and he sighed, holding his arm out and you hugged him tightly, and Hotch let you cry into him.

He was used to this, usually from victims or victims families, but you weren’t really either. You were just a teenager who had lost their family.

He stayed with you until CPS came, and that was the last he saw of you for weeks.

You were bounced from home to home, family to family until finally you were standing in front of him again in his house.

“Why am I here?” You asked.

“Well, something didn’t feel right after leaving you behind. I’m responsible for taking away your parents, so, I want to look after you, make sure you’re okay and safe.”

You slowly nodded your head, and he smiled a little.

“I know it’s hard, but I promise you right now you’re going to be okay.”

You gave another nod of your head.

Hotch knew this was going to take time to adjust for both of you, but he felt responsible because he knew that he was.

He was doing his job, but know he’d taken away your only family and left you out there alone didn’t feel right.

He felt like he had to keep you safe and okay

[mod-jazzy]

What’s been going on, a summary

Hello everyone I have finally decided to speak about something that’s been happening with me lately.

I’m tired of scooting around it and being vague.

For nearly the past two years, I’ve had a stalker. Stalking my blogs, what I say in public servers, what I say on other websites, etc etc.

I left servers over them, i even gave up servers I used to run because of this.

I often turn off my ask boxes and DMs at random to avoid getting harassed further or to attempt to “stop it” for a short amount of time. Just for a moment of peace.

Earlier this year I left all servers and whatnot after receiving a threat of doxxing me. I got afraid and stressed so I just left without saying why. I cut off social contact for the most part without saying why. I was scared and stressed and overwhelmed by it all.

But yesterday, after getting a onslaught of messages spread across my blogs. I was in fact, doxxed and received several threats on my partners life.

We are fine however. My partner is fine and I am fine (as I can be given the circumstances). I just wanted to state that, we are fine.

We have support and are dealing with it behind the scenes. We are fine aside from me being (reasonably) a bit emotional over it.

I do not know who the individual is. I’m primarily harassed and sent threats via anon or burner accounts. So, it’s led to me being quite paranoid around people and what I say and do.

Hence why I left servers and why I don’t talk to anyone anymore. It’s made me paranoid and afraid. Because I just! Do not know who. I just don’t know.

I don’t know what I even did to this person. I don’t know why they haven’t chosen to just block me if they don’t like me. I don’t get it and I’m tired of trying to reason with them or understand.

So. As of now.

All my inboxes are closed to asks for the time being. As well as making my DMs to be “mutuals only” since there isn’t entirely a “close DMs” option.

They won’t be closed forever and I do still plan on answering any asks/interactions I’ve already gotten. I just am keeping everything closed for a bit. I am merely trying to limit how much they can harass me for the time being. I hope you all understand.

So that’s, what’s been happening with me.

I’ve been trying to avoid speaking publicly out of fear of being doxxed, but that happened anyways.

So I don’t know what’ll happen after me posting this, if it’ll get worse or not. Whatever happens, happens I suppose.

Again, I want to reiterate that my partner and I are fine. We are dealing with it and handling it behind the scenes.

I’m just, speaking publicly about it now to explain my rather, erratic behavior over the past year.

Sorry for the long and sudden serious post, but after discussing it with others, we think that maybe me posting about it publicly will help.

Again, apologies for dropping this suddenly, just unsure on what else to do here.

I’ll still be around, lurking and quietly working on content. But I’m just going to have my asks/DMs mostly turned off to hinder the amount of harassment I can get for the time being.

— —

TLDR: I have a stalker, they doxxed me and sent specific threats on my partners life. If I close my askboxes and whatnot, it’s to attempt to avoid further harassment

[theredofoctober]

Shingleback— A Wolf Creek Darkfic

Mick Taylor x Virgin Female Reader

Synopsis: A road trip to visit relatives ends abruptly when Mick Taylor crosses your path

Trigger/Content Warnings: non con, violence, death (not reader)

Read after the cut

-

Smoke in your lungs, your mouth, in the porcelain shard of sky you see through the one eye not shut with blood. The air reeks of engine oil and char, and blackened flesh.

Someone is surely dead in the wreckage of the car, and you are not yet sure that it’s not you.

Footsteps, crunching through glass and stones. A whistle in the quiet.

Someone crouches over you at the side of the road, blinding you in a black trough of shadow.

“Fuck me,” he says. “Still breathin’. Ya got lucky. Your fella’s a goner, sweetheart.”

Fella.

Your father. He had been at the wheel, championing a road trip to visit obscure relatives, whom you’d never met, nor particularly cared to.

The drive had been harsh, all stark light and barren road.

Dread was in the yellow of the horizon. The air had hissed with its song.

“I don’t want to go,” you’d said. “I don’t know these people. It’s not like I’m a kid anymore. It’ll be weird.”

“Ah, it’ll be fine,” your father had replied, falsely jolly, consulting a map. “They’re all solid blokes. What are you worrying for?”

You rested your brow against the windowpane, soothing the beginnings of an ache.

“Just don’t feel like going. Can’t help worrying about Mom.”

The drive had continued in silence, for a time. Neither of you had wanted to reach for the radio.

“Yeah,” you father had said, at last. “Same here. But there’s no point stewing at home waiting for her, eh?”

You’d begun to answer, your words blown away in a gale of events.

Something had taken out a back wheel, then a front one. There had been something up ahead— a sign, you’d thought, and then the vehicle had been through it and over it and on its back, and burning.

You’d come loose from the car like a coin from a threadbare pocket, and now you’re lying in the silhouette of a man that smells like sweat and gunfire.

“Let’s have a look at you, then,” he says.

His voice is rough, friendly, salt of the earth. A working man’s accent. Trustable, if you did not know what he had done.

He brushes your hair back from your forehead, grunting at the cut that splits it like chopped wood.

“You’re gonna have one beauty of a scar if I don’t see to it. Looks like you’re coming home with me, love. I’m Mick, by the way. Mick Taylor. Nice to meet ya.”

You see the gun on his arm, know well that he put out the wheels.

Your lips part with a whispered rejection of his aid.

Mick scowls, his eyes squinting, all narrow malice.

“Eh? Listen, you can lie here like your mate there, or I can stitch you back together and getcha lookin’ decent. Choice is yours.”

The man chortles, a filthy, porcine sound.

“Just jokin’. I’m keeping ya. Know what’ll happen if you lie out here all night? Dingos’ll eat ya. Snakes’ll bite you. Either way, you’ll wind up fuckin’ dead, right. Don’t want that, do ya, Sheila?”

“My Dad,” you whisper—the fire has guttered your throat, leaving you with a geriatric croak. “He needs help.”

The figure leering over you shifts back slightly, and you glimpse his face. Sun-beaten skin, small, malignant eyes. Cleft chin. Hair grown down either side of his jaw like chin straps, bookends for a blunt-toothed grin.

“Your Dad’s fucked, darlin’. Legs burnt off. Probably got one foot in the grave. Or not, eh?”

Another rattling laugh. You try to sit up, going limp under a wash of pain.

“Here ya go,” says Mick, helpfully turning you onto your side. “See for yourself. I pulled him out of the wreck, but he’s barely hangin’ on. Doubt he’ll see tomorrow.”

Your father slumps, a charred half-man, still in the road. All the heat runs out of you through your head, and you sit up as though from a dream.

One of your ears buzzes, an imagined sound. You will never quite unhear it again.

“Dad,” you say— your voice is still barely audible, even to you. “Dad?”

His mouth twitches, and you glance up at Mick, knowing you cannot go to him for help.

“Bugger’s alive, is he?” asks Mick, noticing the stir of movement. “Must be bloody sore. Better put him out of his misery.”

Concussed, you do not understand the statement until Mick strides across to your father’s body and hefts the gun.

Three shots ring out.

The dying man jumps and dances briefly, festooned in a display of blood. Then he falls, faceless, his head dangled on the blown-off reed of his neck, and you look at Mick with a hollow terror that makes you almost calm in its flat emptiness.

“Did you both a favour,” he says, all broad, square teeth. “Wouldn’t want him watchin’ what I’m going to do to you when I get ya back.”

You leave your heart there on the road, another burned, dead thing in the humming afternoon.

*

Mick takes you to the remnants of a mine, carrying you down into the dark across his shoulder, as he might hoist the body of a deer. The stench of rot and ammonia passes over you in an acrid haze. A menagerie smell, of human animals.

There have been others, held here. Others killed in the belly of the ground.

Mick sits you against the bars of an iron cage, pleased by your lack of resistance.

“That’s it,” he says. “Nice and quiet. Wouldn’t want to have to cut your tongue out. Can’t scream me name if ya can’t talk.”

He goes over you with brutish hands, looking for injuries. One wrist violet with bruising, both knees skinned, the slash across your brow: aside from this, and the concussion, you are otherwise unscathed.

“You must be made of rubber,” says Mick, as he cleans your wounds with a bit of murky alcohol on a rag. “One hell of a tumble you took, there.”

Thanks to you, you think, but say nothing, are still an hour back in time, watching your father’s body leap in the force of gunfire.

“So,” says Mick, sitting back to observe his work under the dim light. “What were you and your dear old dad doing here in Australia?”

You do not answer, owe him nothing, this shooter of men.

Mick’s face darkens. Reaching forward, he squeezes your sprained wrist until you cough up bile between your legs, black stars churning in the cell before you.

“Start talkin’,” says Mick. “I’m not pissin’ around.”

“Dad’s from here,” you choke out. “Was. We were going to visit family.”

Your captor grunts in disbelief.

“Doubt it. Ya talk like a Yank.”

The disparagement in his tone is a steel edge you know better than to touch.

“My Mom’s American,” you say. “I grew up there. That’s why I don’t have any accent at all.”

“Hmm.”

To your relief, Mick softens, seeming to regard you with a more favourable look. His eyes are small, light, with a cold friendliness about them that you might have liked, had he not introduced himself in such slaughterous practice.

His tone, too, is conversational, as though he did not wear the shrapnel of blood and bone upon him, still.

“Where’s your Mum, then?” he asks.

You look down at the bile cooling in the dirt, its bitterness another stink in the fetid gloom.

“She ran away.”

Mick’s smile hardens.

“Got sick of your Dad, did she?”

“No. She’s got mental health problems. She stops taking her meds. Runs off. Comes back a month or so later. Nothing we can do.”

It seems a trite conversation to share with a killer, but you will sustain it, if it distracts him from thoughts of harm.

“So your Mum’s left ya,” says Mick, “and your Dad’s dead. Halfway to being an orphan, eh?”

You wipe your face gingerly, appalled by the absence of tears, the correct emotion. Certainly you feel it, somewhere, kept as though beneath an upturned glass. But you cannot express it, though it may buy you favour to cry.

“Dad’s family are gonna worry about me,” you say, softly. “If I don’t turn up.”

Mick’s brow furrows. It is a mistake to threaten him, even so subtly as this.

“They can keep worryin’,” he growls. “Can’t send ya back, now can I? You’d go tellin’ everyone about what I’ve been doing out here. Can’t let ya do that, Sheila.”

You push your hands behind you, clinging to the iron ice of the bars until your palms burn.

“But I don’t know what you’ve been doing,” you say. “I don’t want to know. I’ll say I don’t know who attacked me and my Dad. I didn’t see your face. I don’t know your name.”

Mick moves towards you, and you shift along the side of the cage, your spine ringing across the bars.

“I don’t trust ya,” he says, quite pleasantly. “You seppos can’t keep your mouths shut for one bloody minute. You’d be spillin’ your guts before ya knew you were doin’ it.”

He takes hold of your right leg and hauls you towards him, scraping your back as your t-shirt rides up across the floor. A knife is produced from somewhere, an evil fragment of silver moonlight, and you gasp, rigid in anticipation of it against your throat.

“Don’t piss yourself,” says Mick. “I’m not plannin’ to kill ya after doin’ such a stellar job of cleanin’ your injuries.”

Knotting his fist in your shirt, he cuts it from your body, repeating the action with your ruined jeans. You don’t dare raise a hand to prevent him, seeing the proficiency with which he wields his blade.

“Oh no,” you whisper, pathetic in your dread of what he means to do.

“Figured it out, have ya?” asks Mick, and grins, one crude hand snapping the elastic of your thin undergarments. “What else would I do with ya? Didn’t bring you down here for a chat.”

You close your bandaged knees, but Mick snaps them tersely open, turning the knife under the light again until you slacken to his will.

If your heart beats quickly, you cannot feel it: you are numb from the head down, insensible. Staring through the man before you, seeing the darkness in him waver, a living shadow.

Mick crouches between your legs, his fingers upon you with a hostile agility. He watches your face closely, eating of even the merest gesture of your suffering.

“Fair warning,” he says. “I’m going to hurt ya.”

You’re dry when he enters you, but as his knuckles clench you’re quickly soaked, the sounds of your flesh awakening to him an echo in the mine.

Mick’s eyebrows jump in bald surprise.

“Strewth, you’re a bit of a dark horse, aren’t ya, daddy’s girl? Do ya always get this wet for blokes old enough to be your father, or just your Uncle Mick?”

His thumb roughs the jewel of nerves you’d hoped he’d avoid. You gasp strengthlessly, roll your head on your neck. Stare into the corpse flavoured dark; anywhere but his face, his eyes.

A blow to the face has you jolting back up like a roused snake, blinking, stone drunk with shock.

Mick leers down at you, his thick fingers still hooked through your cunt.

“Make some bloody racket, will you? I ain’t fuckin’ a dead sheila tonight. Would have left you in that burnt-out wreck of a foreign car if I thought you’d give up the fight this quick.”

You try to focus your stare, find the veins of your fear to bleed for him. The impression of Mick’s hand throbs across your eye, swelling the lid.

“Stop,” you rasp. “Stop it.”

Movement in your gut: a maggot of shame.

The old man smirks, and leans over you, his beer-musked breath making darts of the down on your bruised cheek.

“There ya go,” he says. “A bit of protest. I love it.”

He kisses you, forcing his tongue between your chipped teeth, all spit, and cigarettes, and drink. His thumb keeps up its relay across your clitoris, its callous tousling your silk. Cunningly, he hunts your climax, knowing he can turn it out.

Weakly, you scrape backwards on scabbed palms, Mick’s tongue still slid across yours. With a muttered oath, he kneels down on one leg, his weight a hanging rock.

“Keep your arse where it is. You’re comin’ for me, or I’m breakin' your fuckin’ legs, and I won’t be neat and tidy about it. Ya know what a compound fracture is, don’tcha? Bone through the skin, and a bastard to set right. Probably never seen one, a city brat like yourself. But you know what I’m talkin’ about.”

You watch his arm move, tanned tawny gold, bound in tattoos long faded by the sun, can’t look at his face in its ugliness and age, and slavering appetite. Sweat opals your forehead, and fevered shivers rip at you. Your mouth opens; the moan that drips free is someone else’s shame, a weak response to touch.

“You tourists are all the same,” says Mick, equally pleased and repulsed by the noise. “Whinge and whine about me putting me hands on ya, when all ya want under it all is a good root. I can feel you’re on the edge, orphan. Hips movin’. Hole squeezin’ down tight. Mind you don’t take me bloody fingers off, will ya?”

He chuckles, and brings his free hand to your breasts, pawing their flesh in his workman’s fist. The pain, the mockery— a signal crosses some incorrect road in your senses, for as Mick leans down to kiss you again you feel a tug of mad, sudden pleasure, casting itself through your loins and up into your mind like a flare thrown into the night.

His hand fucks you through it, pressing, relentless into your treachery. You break your fingernails on the filth beneath you, feel yourself torn, unwilling, from your distance like a marlin from the deepest sea. You breathe in sickly pants.

Savaged. Wounded.

“You’re a beauty,” says Mick, bringing his wet hand to his face to study its stolen glaze. “Take a look at the mess ya made. You oughta thank me, givin’ you a service like that. Half the time, I don’t bother. Just wanna get me dick in a hole and get to it.”

Sitting back on his haunches, he licks his hand, smacking his lips with a juicy pop. The noise—like gunfire, bullets in a tyre, in your father’s skull—startles you into action. The cage door is partway open; you lurch past Mick on your knees, all instinct, no thought as to what you’ll do beyond the mine.

“And where are you runnin’ off to, eh? Ya silly cunt.”

Mick is on your back in under a second, smacking the cage door shut on one of your outstretched hands. A scream evicts itself from you— parched, almost soundless, knocked back in by the blade Mick shunts beneath your chin.

“Told ya,” he growls, rutting against your hips for emphasis. “Either I fuck ya, or I kill ya, and I didn’t carry you all this way and stitch you up to finish ya quick. It’ll be slow and hard, and it’ll hurt. See how ya scream then, eh?”

“Please,” you say, to the knife as much as the man. “I can’t do what you want me to. I’ve never— I’ve never done that before. I’m scared.”

Mick puts the knife away and draws your head back to look you in the eye. His stare is hunger and dusk. Of hunting things in the desert.

“I know. Could tell you were a fuckin’ virgin. Bled on me hand, didn’tcha? Ain’t gonna stop me fuckin’ ya, though. Means I’ll be keepin’ you down here for a long time. Usin’ ya whenever I feel like it. But first, I have to break ya in.”

“Why?” you ask, as his belt buckle rings at your back, his shooter’s hands arrange you beneath him with the same familiarity with which he’d load his gun. “Why do you hurt people?”

Mick pauses, and when you glance back at him over his shoulder you see a real loathing sheen the vicious glass of his eyes.

“Because it’s what ya deserve. You, and all you cheap, noisy Americans, coming here, soiling my bloody land. Good thing you’ve got some Aussie in you, or I’d have to kill ya on principle. Not enough in you for me to turn ya loose, though.”

His knee opens your thighs, and you hear him clear his throat to spit in his hand, a home-grown lubricant. You stare at the bars of the cage until, in your vision, they smear into one broad stroke of rust. How cold the mine is, around you, in its coffin velvet darkness. All death, all hopeless night.

“Usually have to protect meself when I screw you tourist girls,” says Mick, conversationally. “Tend to be crawling with all sorts of nasties. But you’re clean as a whistle, ain’tcha, with a virgin cunt like yours.”

There is force at your sphere of heat, massive, bracing in the shoving pain that follows, the dirty grunts and curses blown against your ear like wind from some wretched sun-scoured isle. You dry heave across the dirt floor, spittle falling from the tip of your tongue in an unholy christening.

Surely you are baptised, now, by the way of brutality, a shingleback forced to mate, to exist beyond this point of anguish.

Mick’s hands punish your hips, their grip testing the joints. How comical he must look, plaid shirt pulled taut over his belly, the old hat still looming over his brow, with his untidy thrusts and growling breath. You know, as if by telepathy, how he savours the assault, how he sees himself the hunter, sinking his teeth into the meat of his quarry.

His cock beats a note of pain so close to pleasure that your nerves cannot mark the difference.

Perhaps it is easier, to take something from this agony, to find something amidst the fog. But then, perhaps you would rather it only hurt, a violence upon you, no different from the twisting of a spear up into your abdomen.

You’re wet as he fucks you, loudly so, the slick of it the music of the mine.

“Never had a girl drip on me cock like you, Sheila,” says Mick, slapping your flank heartily as he withdraws. “Let’s getcha on your back so I can have a look at ya.”

He turns you with a careless shove, snorting as you cover your eyes like a child afraid of the beast under its bed.

“Christ,” says Mick. “Can’t stomach seein’ an old bloke like me makin’ ya come? Probably finger yourself thinkin’ about some soft bloody film star. Well, you can get over it. You’re mine now, darlin’. Never lettin’ you go.”

He drags you to him by the hips, bending your legs back at such an angle you sense, with certainty, that he means to fill you to your greatest depth. You tense, try, with feeble hands, to push at his chest as he bears down on you again.

“Please,” you say. “Please, no more, please, please...”

Terror strikes through you in a fork of black lightning as Mick leans down, his eyes narrowed, hateful.

“Shut up,” he sneers. “Look down, ya uptight bloody American princess. You’re gonna watch me fuck ya.”

With a terse jolt he moves your head downwards. You see his cock in one tanned hand, pushing back into your ravaged entrance in one slow, mean thrust. Unnatural, the size of him, a surrealist nightmare depiction of male aggression.

The tempo of it drawing in and out of you may as well be the digging of a grave in all its dark purpose. Your breasts rise and fall with its movement, your skin awash in the hideous light shone down from the naked bulb overhead, the yellow of a cartoon sun.

You hear your own voice, disembodied, the chatter of a ventriloquist’s doll.

“Mick. Mick, it hurts.”

“Should bloody hope so,” he sneers, and he hits you; the rusty pain in that same abused cheek runs down your neck into your loins, and you are afraid of yourself as much as this monster, in your weakness.

You cling to Mick’s arms suddenly, which are firm from his grisly work, and he snickers.

“Like that, do ya? Never would have guessed it, to look at ya.”

He palms your chest, yellowed teeth bared as he rolls upon you, chafing your spine against the floor. His ugliness is your greatest shame, every line in his weathered face mocking you with its affront.

You cannot wrench your eyes away, staring up at him even as you wish only to turn to the dark. Ghosts seem to whisper to you from the corners, holding you accountable for the plaits of ecstasy that wind your cunt tight around your attacker.

You throb with the need of release, with its inevitable approach, uninvited.

He killed your father. He has raped and killed and rode his ruthless path through the Outback for decades, and you are going to come with him within you. Come from the chemical bewilderment of fear, and grief, and the force of him in the new wound of taken virginity.

If you survive him, it will be as a ghoul, undead, unfeeling. You yearn for him to return to the knife and end you, but you know from the glee in his eyes that he means to have you live as long as your flesh can withstand his horror.

“You’re a looker, y’know,” breathes Mick, putting a hand behind your head in a rancid performance of romance. “Scars and all. Give me a kiss, eh?”

He runs his tongue through your lips, and you gasp as a vent of andesite heat bisects you in your climax. Your enemy gives a throaty laugh, fucking you through each layer of orgasm until all that is left is the pain, and the width of him within you.

“Bet you’ve never come like that before, have ya?” he gloats. “Look scared to death. Jesus. I could fuck ya for days.”

But you feel his strokes taking an erratic quality, hear the shortening of his breath. He’s close, and you doubt he means to save you the dread of him finishing in your satin warmth.

Still, you beseech, feel at the very least that your begging will end this.

“Don’t... I mean, inside me, I...”

Mick smirks, gripping you by the chin to bring you eye to eye.

“Darlin’,” he croons. “I’m gonna be blowin’ me load in ya cunt until the day I kill ya.”

He licks your face of sweat and blood, and grips you to him as he reaches his bellowing crisis. You feel him pulse, the overflow of his spend trailing your inner thigh in its salt moisture, and close your eyes, stepping in to embrace your defeat.

Mick stands up, buckling his trousers, whistling a jolly, off-key tune. You lie as he left you, thinking of nothing, your mind and senses ground out into ash. Day in, day out, this is to be your life, whore to the devil of the land.

It seems that you died in the car, after all.

By God, you wish that you had.

---

Chapter Two is now here

[apomaro-mellow]

S1E12: Moving in Pt 2

Part 11

“Don’t worry about it El. That guy’s a jerk”, Dustin said.

“That guy is supposed to be my brother”, El pouted as they walked into her house. 

The whole group plopped down on the couches and chairs in the living room. The entire way home, El had grumbled about the way Steve had slighted her earlier. Jim was in the kitchen, cracking a beer and eating a sandwich after having worked on the yard earlier. He leaned against the wall to listen more.

“Hate to break it to you, El. But he was hanging with a bad crowd”, Dustin said.

“Yeah, there was Tommy H and Carol too. And all the assholes on the basketball team”, Max added.

“The basketball team…are assholes?”, El questioned.

“They’re bullies. Most of the high schoolers are”, Will said.

“But Steve isn’t a bully”, El argued.

Mike sighed. “Give it time. He’s hanging with them and soon he’ll be one of them.”

“He already blew you off today”, Lucas reminded her. 

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

Steve walked into his house, night having already fallen. The unspoken curfew on a school night was definitely well before the sky got dark. Hopefully though, Jim would be down after having to unpack and get the house together. Steve snuck into the kitchen to get him something to eat and startled when the lights flicked on.

“Jesus Christ!”

“You wish”, Jim said, arms crossed and in his bathrobe. He came over to the table and sat down. The way he stared at Steve said he should sit too and so he did. “So, how ya settlin’ into town? How’s school and…such…”

“It’s…fine. It’s school you know”, Steve said. He didn’t know why he was in trouble, but he knew that’s why Jim was acting like this was an interrogation. He was fishing for answers and Steve wasn’t going to just give them up and land himself in house jail.

“Making new friends?”, Jim asked and Steve nodded. “Sure hope they’re good ones. Sure hope they’re not jerks who make you ditch your sister.”

“Oh come on”, Steve groaned.

“She is trying to adjust, just like we are and you blow her off the minute you get here?”

“She’s fine. She has her group, I have mine.”

“You were supposed to drive her home. That was the deal, for the first two months, you take her to and from school.”

“Why do I have to do that now? The school’s in walking distance and she has people to go with her. She doesn’t need me anymore and you’re making a big deal of this.”

“It’s my house, I can make as big of a deal as I want to”, Jim said, rising to his feet. “And if you’re going to live under my roof-”

“Stop talking to me like that. You keep trying to make rules for me AND rules for El. Maybe she doesn’t want me to take her? Maybe I’m cramping her style, you ever think of that?”

“That’s bullcrap and you know it. She’s your family and she wants you around.”

“But this isn’t about her. This is about you trying to control my life. I’m almost eighteen and you can’t do that!”

“Oh so this is about you being an adult? Well news flash, until you’re eighteen, my house, my rules!”

“You’re not my father!”

A silence hung in the air and Steve ran up to his room before Jim could react. When the words settled in, Jim just sat back down at the table.

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

Jim’s bad mood continued to the next day, even as he went grocery shopping. He was practically slamming things into his cart as he grumbled to himself.

“Geez, what did the corn flakes do to deserve that?”

Jim looked across the aisle to see his next door neighbor. “Mrs. Byers, good day to you”, he said without an ounce of cheer.

“You know it’s ‘ms’ and you know you can just call me Joyce. Any particular reason that you’re punishing your groceries?” 

“I’m not”, Jim looked at the way he was squishing a loaf of bread in his hand and relaxed his grip.

“Trouble at home?”, she asked.

“Just…teenagers”, Jim groaned.

“Ah”, Joyce nodded knowingly, having two of her own. “You know what’ll help? We haven’t thrown your family a welcome party yet!”

“You don’t have t-”

“I know I don’t. But you’re getting one anyway. Bring your kids and things can smooth over just fine.”

“Anyone ever tell you how pushy you are?”

Joyce beamed. “They sure do!” ----------------------

El was about to vibrate out of her skin with excitement. She was brushing her hair and deciding on how to style it. Maybe just a simple clip? Maybe a scrunchie? She was in the middle of weighing her options, music playing softly from her radio when she heard Jim’s heavy footsteps going towards Steve’s room.

“Hey, make sure you’re ready in time for the party tonight.”

“Party? What party?”

“The welcoming party, the one that Joyce Byers is throwing for us.”

“You never told me anything about a party”, Steve said.

“Well maybe you’d know if you ever showed up to dinner. Or looked at the goddamn calendar.”

Steve groaned. “I have plans tonight.”

“Ditch em like you ditched El.”

El could hear Steve stomp down the stairs and out the door, then heard his car start up and take off. She let out a sigh. Then Jim came over to her room.

“Promise me you won’t ever go through puberty.”

“What’s poo-birdie?”

Jim’s lips got tight. “Nevermind”, he said before making a quick getaway.

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

“Dude, I can’t believe you almost missed tonight”, some guy, Steve thought his name might be Todd said while slinging an arm around his shoulders.

The music was loud and the drinks were flowing. Someone’s parents were out of town, Steve still couldn’t put a lot of names to faces. He recognized Eddie Munson. Everyone had something to say about him and the guy made a name for himself as kind of a loudmouth and right now he was toting around his trusty lunchbox, making deals on party favors.

Everyone else though, Steve was still getting to know. And that felt weird but whatever. They’d be his friends eventually. He was already on the team and a part of the crowd and-

“Whoa, nerd alert!”, someone said, looking out the front windows. 

Steve groaned, knowing what they must be seeing. But some people spilled out into the front yard anyway, some to puke and some to gawk. Across the street was the Byers house. There was also a full house and with the lights on, it was easy to see inside the house.

“Are they playing Twister? For real?”

“Why can’t they just get a life?”

“Why can’t you?”, Steve shouted, pushing off whoever was hanging onto him. He got stares and a chill ran through him. Whatever he said next would change his life forever.

“What’s with you, Harrington?”

“All you guys do is talk about what other, more interesting people are doing. I don’t even know any of your names, that’s how boring you are. But I sure as hell know who Eddie Munson is!”

Eddie froze then, in the middle of making his way from one party to the next. He was like a deer in headlights, but Steve kept going.

“And I know Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers. They don’t care about being different and guess what? I know their names because of it.”

“So you’re just going to hang out with dorks and losers now?”, one of the girls, she might’ve been Heather, said.

“Better a loser than a nobody”, Steve said. Then he turned on his heel and walked across the street. He was going towards the Byers’ house when he stopped in the middle of the street. After the kind of jerk he’d been, El and Jim wouldn’t want to see him either. He’d just go home for now. Maybe apologize with a big breakfast in the morning.

The teens of the other party went inside, leaving Steve alone on the street just as El opened the door to the other house. Her new friends flanked her and Steve wondered how much they had witnessed.

“We were watching from the window”, El said, answering that question. 

“So you saw-”

“Yep”, Mike nodded.

“And you probably heard-”

“A good amount”, Lucas crossed his arms. “Doesn’t mean you’re not still a jerk though.”

“It’s not like I wanna be a weirdo like you guys”, Steve said defensively.

“El told us how you obsess over your hair. You’re a weirdo, definitely”, Max snarked, arms crossed.

“We’re all weirdos! Now you can be weird out there or you can be weird in here, where we’ve got chips and dip”, Dustin offered.

Steve pretended to weigh his options and it must have looked convincing because El gave the closer.

“Ms. Byers has that spicy salsa you like.”

“Well if she has the spicy one”, Steve said as he stepped up to the house.

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

Steve woke up the next morning to the sight of half a dozen kids in his living room. “Is this just how it is now?”

“How what is?”, Will asked.

“Last night I went to bed and had one sister. I wake up, suddenly it’s the Brady Bunch in my living room!”

“You might not wanna look into the kitchen then”, Mike said.

Tempted by him, Steve did just that, only to see Jim and Joyce moving around each other as they made breakfast, Jonathan sitting at the table, newspaper in hand. He went back to the living room, eyes bugged out.

“Look on the bright side”, El said.

“And what’s that?”, Steve asked.

“It could be an actual Brady Bunch with a bunch of kids?”, Lucas offered.

Steve looked him in the eye before eyeing each of the six of them currently sitting in the living room. Brady Bunch, indeed.

S2 coming soon!

[beeandheroddobsessions]

On Bended Knee

Summary: Y/N is on their last leg with Elvis.

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort. Mentions of the colonel, mentions of pills. Mm sad Elvis. Lmk if I missed any!

A/N: I was in the middle of an assignment and this song came on and I had to get this down before I forgot it.

You stare at the mess you’ve made in awe. There are broken dishes, smashed vases; pictures snatched out of the frames, just a mess.

Looking around, you wonder how things had gotten this bad. How a love, once sweet and warm, could grow into something so cold and bitter.

You look toward the bearer of your sorrows; anger graces his features, yet defeat is painted over yours.

His chest is heaving, and his fists are clenched at his sides. He’s waiting for your next move, wondering what’ll come flying in his direction next.

Frankly, you’re exhausted. Between the girls, the drugs, and that slime-ball Elvis calls his manager; you feel like you no longer have a place in his life.

“I’m done…I can’t do this anymore.” It comes out so soft, barely above a whisper. So quiet, you aren’t even sure that you said it.

Elvis is certain you’ve misspoken. Never once have you threatened to leave him. The anger flowing through his body dissipates and is replaced with concern.

In two quick strides, he’s looming over you, cupping your face. “Look at me, baby,” he pleads. You know better than to listen. If you do, you’ll be right back where you started.

“Damnit, I said, look at me!” He booms. Like a child, you do as you’re told, slowly shifting your eyes from that oh-so-interesting spot on the floor to his cerulean eyes.

When your eyes meet, he searches for any indication of a bluff, something that’ll tell him you’re still his, that you aren’t serious.

He doesn’t find it. “Let go, Elvis,” you mutter. The hands cradling your face fall to his sides.

The sound of glass crunching under your feet as you turn toward the door is enough to make you wince. “Satnin, please…” You shake your head. “Elvis, you-“

“It ain’t fuckin Elvis! El, Elvie, Vis, sweetness, loverboy, any one of ‘em will do. You ain’t c-called me Elvis in t-ten goddamn years.”

His voice wavers, and you can’t help the way your head snaps in his direction. You find a broken man resting on his knees, hands in his hair, with tears streaming down his face.

Your feet move before you tell them to; his arms wrap around your legs as sobs rack through his body. “I’m gon fix it satnin, I promise. If this is bout the colonel…I-I’m gon fire him a-and it’ll be jus’ you an me. We’ll go wherever ya want. Any state outta the fifty. Ya jus’ can’t leave me baby. Please.”

You run your fingers through his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp. “El, you need more help than I can give you right now. It ain’t just him, baby. What about the pills and-”

he flies out of your arms, hiccuping as he makes his way to the bathroom. You hear rattling and run after him, scared of what he could be doing.

You peek in and find him dumping pills everywhere. Some in the sink under running water, some Into the shower drain, most into the toilet.He doesn’t stop until every last bottle is empty. When he finishes, he turns his attention to you. “Y/N, I’ll do anything ya ask. Jus’, please, don’t leave.” You can tell he’s serious.

You don’t say a word as you step forward, arms wrapping around his waist. He melts into you, gripping you tight like you’d vanish if he didn’t.

“I-I’m so sorry.” He cries out. You hold on just as tight “Thick and thin, baby, thick and thin. It’s gon be okay, El; we’ll figure this out.”

He just nods his head, thanking every star in the sky that you changed your mind.

[aquaquadrant]

Hi there. I’m going insane and it’s your fault. Like I discovered your absolute emotional masterpiece of a fanfic the other day and it’s all I think about anymore I’m so obsessed; I downloaded tumblr bc of you and I don’t really know how this site works but I do know how to click the ask button so that’s your problem now. I got words for you

First off: HOLy the writing and the voices are so good??? Like the characters say things the way their irl counterparts would say it? How?? Teach me your ways? Actually tho what did you do to learn to do that, is it innate, do you practice?

Second: “He wouldn’t have known the sight of Tango’s pale skin flushing bright red all the way down his chest.” That sentence just kinda stuck out to me from the last chapter… for some reason... anyways (idk what my point is here but it sure has got me thinking thoughts :P )

Third: I said I was obsessed, and I think it was an understatement. I didn’t study for my chem final because of this (still got an A tho so dw) and I went to bed for three days straight thinking about it and I woke up every morning thinking about it. (It took a solid hour to snap myself out of it when I actually needed to get work done lol) And on the plane ride home for break I drew some things so I’ll just leave these here if you don’t mind (umm ignore the tango faces on the first page and his left hand on the second, there's something Wrong™ about them I gotta practice, ok?)

idk if the formatting is good or whatever but here they are

As you can see I love love love the scene after the nightmare. If I remember correctly, Tango started wearing the gloves to protect his claws so they could heal after he escaped, and then when Jimmy gets hurt he just instinctively gives them to him?? Hello, the symbolism??? Tango just surrenders his own protection, both physically, because he would rather protect Jimmy, but also emotionally bc it immediately reveals what he considers a flaw in himself, monstrous, hideous. And Jimmy sees him throw the walls up again, “He quickly shoves the gloves at Jimmy, moving to get up. “I’ll uh, I’ll get another pair tomorrow-”” but Jimmy won’t let him, instead looks at what could be considered Tango’s entire soul —his trauma, his Hels origin, the feral, blaze side of him, the side that lies and hides and lashes out at any who get too close, the “ugliest” parts of him —and loves him despite it? Even sees the beauty in him? Yea, no, I’m normal about that—

Anyways idk how long these things are supposed to be but I have a couple more thoughts so you’re still stuck with me. Ummm let’s see… I adore your impulse design. So I’m taking that, thanks. (If that’s ok) also was thinking about how Jimmy would wear shirts with the wings getting in the way (see bottom of 2nd pic), and then thought maybe that’s why he’s so good at embroidery or sewing in general, cuz he has to make custom clothes. And then I thought what if he made some *cough* outfits and had Tango judge them… or asked for help putting on/taking off a particularly difficult shirt... haven’t had time to draw that yet but ya know… one day. Aaaaand the blaze rods could theoretically make a pretty cool fire crown when Tango's angry, also blazes do damage when you touch them, but I don't think you get set on fire? So it must be the blaze rods themselves doing damage, so I imagine when Tango's fighting they swirl around him both to attack whoever gets too close and to block any incoming projectiles (see middle left of 1st pic). +gradients on the blaze rods :]

Last thing, I showed my sister the fic last night and she’s already read through it twice so you’ve infected two of us. We were theorizing on what’ll happen next chapter. We both think that the others will piece together, to some extent, Tango’s backstory before they figure out how to remove the collar, what with the cuffs he wears, the comments Atlas made about a farm, Atlas’s mentioning about using Jimmy that way for his feathers, etc etc. and the comment that Tango can hear everything? Yea, no, when that collar comes off he’s gonna be distraught, I’m wagering that everything immediately bursts into flames around him or something (cuz that’d be cool). I think he'll probably try to run away, too, but we'll see

Anyways, that’s not all my thoughts but this is getting pretty long, so maybe I’ll send another ask later if that’s alright. Have a good day! Post again soon! Please. Please I'm begging you. For my sanity plea-

(actually tho take ur time. quality is worth it, and this is nothing but quality)

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! omg welcome. this was genuinely SUCH a lovely ask to read, but i wanna take the time to properly answer it so i’m gonna continue under the cut cause boy can i ramble

first off: HELLO, you got a tumblr bc of HTP?? incredible. i’m honored that this gay angsty little block man au was your introduction to the hellsite (affectionate). and don’t worry, i welcome asks no matter the length (tho i might not get to everything in a timely manner)

second of all: i’m SO happy you enjoyed my character voices. that’s definitely something that’s taken a bit of practice, especially for more understated characters that don’t have super obvious or unique vocal traits/vernaculars. i find it helpful to a) have spent a decent amount of time watching the source material and b) always go over my dialogue with the character’s voice in my mind, and see if it sounds like something they’d actually say. ofc, sometimes liberties can be taken based on the plot/setting of a fic but generally i spend a lot of time and effort on getting character voices right, so i appreciate the appreciation <3

thirdly: i like that particular sentence too ;0

fourth: THAT ART THO??? oh man. impulse looks amazing (i’ve always loved demon!impulse and gotta credit @lunarcrown for bringing that vision to life 💃) and the wings are SO well done, like you conveyed that leathery thin bat skin texture perfectly. the various tangos are SICK, i luuuuv seeing him in full blaze rage mode, using those blaze rods to their full effect. and those hands… goddamn. not only do i respect the hand anatomy but the ROSES… the shackles and their metallic texture… the gradient on tango’s claws… chef’s kiss 💋👌 and THANK YOUUU the post-nightmare scene was one of my favorites from that chapter, and you’ve summed it up beautifully.

moving on: as with all of lunar’s designs, she’s happy to inspire so BEHOLD, DEMON IMPULSE UPON YE (that’s a yes from both of us LOL) i love ur idea about jimmy making custom shirts to work around his wings, that’s one of those little details i never put much thought into but it fits so nicely with him being into embroidery. so jimmy def makes a lot of his own clothes (and occasionally some for tango), co-signed and approved. and ur on the right track about tango’s blaze rods- most of his defensive fire comes directly from them, doing that crazy swirly fireball thing that actual blaze do, but he does also have the ability to produce fire from his hands, he just doesn’t do it often. it takes a bit more concentration and practice, and he spent so long trying not to use his abilities that it doesn’t come second nature to him anymore. he was way more of a fire starter as a kid in hels.

last but not least: AWW it’s so sweet u got ur sister into the au (lord knows i’ve dragged mine into many a fandom 😂) glad y’all enjoyed it so much, AND now u have someone to theorize with 👀 i won’t say anything more on the matter other than i hope to get the next chapter out over the next couple weeks, so stay tuned…