#and when she sat back down i was like ''can i talk about this actually''

[naturesapphic]

Hi! Would you be able to do a CEO!older!Natasha romanoff x Younger!fem!reader fic where reader is part of a startup advertising company while nat is the feared CEO of a well known advertising company and both met in a fancy wine bar only find out they’re business rivals in the advertising industry. Fluffy and some steamy smut please

Business rivals

CEO!older!natasha romanoff x young!fem!reader

Warnings: strict nat, fluff, smut

Word count: 1,002 :)

Walking into the bar, you were hit with the smell of alcohol and some type of fancy perfume. You walked up to the bar and sat down and ordered a strawberry martini. Feeling a presence behind you, you looked behind you to see a beautiful red head in a black suit and tie. “May I seat here?” She asks in a strict but kind voice. You gave her a smile and nodded your head. The red head smiled back and sat down next to you. “What are you having sweetheart?” The red head asked and you chuckled at the pet name she gave you. “A strawberry martini.” You replied and she shook her head. “Why don’t I buy you something stronger hm?” She suggested and you shook your head.

“No thank you. I need to stay as sober as I can. I have to go to work tomorrow.” You explained to her and she nodded in understanding. "I have work too but ! can just call out if I really need to." She smirked as she called over the bartender and ordered a bottle of vodka. Your eyes widen in surprise at her choice of alcohol and she just gave you a playful smirk and wink. The two of you talked for hours at the bar and learned so much about each other but what she was about to say now was something you weren’t expecting her to say. “I’m actually the CEO of stark advertising.” She confessed and you felt your whole face turn pale at her words. The redhead noticed how your whole demeanor change and she asked what was wrong.

“You work for stark advertising. You are Natalia Romanov, You are my rival!” You exclaimed with wide eyes and Natasha’s eyes widen themselves. “Shit…” she muttered under her breath while you sat there dumbfounded. “You are feared and an asshole..but getting to know you…the real you…I don’t see it…” you confessed to her and she looked into your eyes with a mix of mischievousness and softness in them. She got a little bit closer to you and carefully took one of your hands in hers, making you look up at her. “I really like you y/n. If you could just give me a chance…we can even go back to my place tonight if you want.” She suggested and you nodded, deciding to give her a chance.

~ at the house ~

You didn’t know how you were half naked on her bed with her on top of you but that’s what’s happening. Lips are connected and moving as you swiftly take off Natasha’s clothes. She was completely bare, her pale skin gleaming in the lamp light that was shining on the bedside table near the bed. Her short red hair that sits on her shoulders frames her face. You were in awe of her and she interrupted your admiration but leaning down and kissing your neck sloppily. You were a complete mess and she was barely doing anything to you. Natasha while kissing your neck and leaving hickies behind, was busy taking the rest of your clothes off, leaving you fully naked as well. Her bare body pressed up against your had you spiraling and not thinking straight.

Her gentle but yet firm touches and the smell of her hair, the softness of her body, the noises that come out of her mouth when you hit a certain spot, had both of you in a frenzy. Natasha was satisfied with your neck and started leaving kisses down to your breast. Your nipples harden by the coldness that filled the room and she took one of your pink buds between her lips, suckling softly. You bit your lip at the sensation and gently raised your hand to run your fingers through her red locks making her eyes snap up at you. She sucked on both of your nipples before kissing down to your stomach to your pelvis. She kisses all over your thighs until she got to your dripping cunt. Using her index and middle finger, she spread opened your lips, revealing your wetness and your throbbing hole.

Natasha smirked and licked her lips. “Is this all for me doll?” She said huskily that made your pussy clench. “Y-yes nat…all for you..” you whimper out, causing her to chuckle. She leaned down and attached her lips around your clit, sucking harshly. You let out a strangled breath and you shut your eyes tightly, feeling the pleasure all through your body, like a shock. She lapped at your pussy then went back to sucking on your clit, mixing the two together to get you to orgasm quickly. Which happened because not even a few minutes later you felt the tightness in your stomach and you let go. You came all in her mouth and Natasha greedily lapped it all up, not leaving a drop behind. You panted in the middle of the bed, recovering from the orgasm that nat just gave you.

“Fuck nat…” you breath out and Natasha let out a chuckle as she goes up and lays beside you, pulling your sweaty body to hers. “That was amazing.” You tell her as you roll over to face her, her arms still wrapped around your body. “I’m glad it was…” she said softly as she moves some of your sweaty strands of hair away from your face, causing your face to heat up. The two of you laid there admiring each other until y’all fell asleep in each others arms.

A/n: I haven’t been very good with endings but thank you @unlady-like-12-25-36 for the request! I hope you enjoyed it and that everyone else did too! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! Take care of yourselves. I love y’all :) special thing coming up this week ;)

[kaces-graham-crackers]

Stirring the Quiet - Sips with Stardom

Jenn Ortega x Female Reader

Summary: Y/N's morning is stirred when Jenna arrives before opening hours. She finds herself sipping coffee and sharing stories with the star again. Between bodyguards, family, and an unexpected promise, Y/N's day becomes more than just her regular routine—a start to a little more, one sip at a time.

Word Count: 2.9k

As I unlocked the door and stepped inside, the familiar smell of Chinese takeout filled the air. The sounds of laughter and clatter of utensils echoed from the kitchen. Kicking off my shoes and slipping into my slippers, I sighed in relief. Home. Before I could take another step, Mr. Noodles—my black-and-white tuxedo cat, complete with his signature black bowtie—greeted me by weaving between my legs, purring loudly. "Hey, Noodles," I chuckled, bending down to scratch his chin. He meowed once, flicking his tail, and followed me into the kitchen. Marcus and Caleb sat at the table, surrounded by various takeout containers. Marcus dug into his lo mein while Caleb balanced his fork in one hand and scrolled through his phone with the other. "Look who finally decided to grace us with their presence!" Marcus called out, waving his fork in the air dramatically. "Yeah, too high on your horse to join your big brothers for dinner? Caleb chimed in without even glancing up from his phone. I rolled my eyes and dropped my bag onto the floor, giving Mr. Noodles a final pat before sitting down at the table. "Whatever you say, peasants, you wouldn't believe the day I had." Marcus raised an eyebrow, grinning. "What happened? Did Tom Cruise stop by to argue with his reflection again?" Caleb snicker. "Or did Chris Hemsworth come in to try and order his post-workout protein shake?" 'Ok. So maybe I don't only keep celebrity conversations with just Wilma.' "No, I still don't know what kind of gym rat demands a coffee shop to make a protein shake," I said, grabbing some fried rice. "But actually, it was Meryl Streep. She and her manager walked in, supposedly for a meeting. And they broke into a feud over whether or not she should be having hot chocolate and a donut." Both of them looked at each other, chuckling. Marcus leaned back in his chair to scratch Mr. Noodles under him. "Meryl Streep, defending her sugar right? You go, girl!" I grinned, stuffing a dumpling in my mouth. "Yeah, his face when she chewed him out was priceless." Caleb's full attention is on me now. "What about Will Ferrell? Did he drop by and give any hints about his upcoming movie?" I shook my head. "No Will Ferrell today. But Liam Neeson came in, ordered tea and a jelly donut, and then tripped on his way out. Spilled tea all over the place." Marcus and Caleb both froze mid-bite before bursting into laughter. Marcus set his fork down, "Let me guess, he threatened the floor after that one, right?" Caleb swallowed his food, "I can just imagine him giving his famous death stare. What did you do?" "I gave him another one, free of charge," I shrugged. "The man looked so heartbroken. I couldn't let him walk out like that." They laughed again, shaking their heads in disbelief. Marcus wiped his mouth, "Man, only in your line of work do we find out Meryl Streep and Liam Neeson are out here having bad days like the rest of us."

We kept eating, trading stories about our day. Marcus talked about a guy at the gym who almost dropped a barbell trying to impress some girl. At the same time, Caleb vented about the latest office drama. While leaning over to offer the piece of chicken on my fork to Mr.Noodles, without even thinking, I casually mentioned, "Oh yeah, Jenna Ortega came in today." Marcus froze, his fork nearly dropping, while Caleb slowly lowered his phone. Both of them stared at me in studded silence. "Wait...what?" Caleb asked, voice rising. "The Jenna Ortega?" It took me a second to realize what I had just said, and I immediately felt my face heat up. Damn. "Uhh...yeah. She was just, you know, having coffee." Marcus leaned over the table, grin growing wider. "Are you seriously telling me you met Jenna Ortega and didn't freak out? Come on, you've been obsessed since she made it big on Wednesday." "I wasn't obsessed!" I protested, feeling my cheeks grow even hotter. "And it wasn't a big deal. She's just a regular person." Caleb raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Did you...like talk to her?" I groaned, running a hand through my hair and throwing my head back. "Yeah, we talked a little. She was reading a book I loved, so we ended up geeking out about the author. She already read it, too, just revisiting it." Marcus' grin grew, looking smug. "You geeked out about a book...with her? And you're sitting here acting like it's no big deal?" I shrugged, trying to play it cool. "She's just another customer like anyone else, guys," Caleb smirked. "Uh-huh, sure. Except you're blushing right now." I could feel the heat creeping back into my face. "Am not." Marcus chuckled, shaking his head. "Our lil sis rubbing elbows with big stars. Be careful if she wants to meet us, we're totally gonna embarrass you." I groaned, covering my face. "Shut Up, Please!"

After dinner, I headed upstairs. Changing into a pair of comfy sweats and a loose T-shirt. Noodles, ever my loyal shadow, hopped onto the bed and curled into a little ball beside me as soon as I laid down. He purred, vibrating through the blankets. I grabbed my phone and, doomed scrolled through Instagram and TikTok. But no matter what I did, my mind drifted back to Jenna. The way she was there—from anxious to completely calm in the café. It was hard to match that with the version of her I'd seen on the screen. And the fact that we actually talked? That was still sinking in. Then there was the blush. That small, subtle blush when she realized she was the last one left in the café caught me off guard. Jenna Ortega, the same Jenna who played the confident, intense character on screen, blushing because she'd lost track of time in a quiet little coffee shop? It made her seem so much more...cute. I immediately slapped my face. 'No, no, not what I meant. I meant human.'" When I looked over, Noodles' eyes were wide, and his tail flickering. I must have startled him with that slap. After a moment of us watching each other, Clearly unimpressed, he huffed and circled a few times, kneading the blankets before settling back down. "Sorry Noodles...What do you think? I murmured, my fingers absentmindedly tracing shapes behind his ears. "Do you think I made a fool of myself?" He responded with a soft purr, utterly unbothered by my internal crisis. I tossed my phone onto the nightstand, my mind replaying every detail of the evening: the way Jenna smiled when I brought her the donut, her casual posture as we talked about horror novels, and, of course, the way she blushed. It was as if, for a moment, she wasn't Jenna Ortega, the actress. She was just...Jenna. A regular person who got lost in a book, just like me. I sighed, rolled onto my back, and stared at the ceiling. "I'll probably never see her again, right?" I muttered to myself. Noodles meowed softly in response, unbothered by my troubles. But a small part of me couldn't help but hope that maybe she'd come back. Noodles stretched, yawned, and moved closer, curling up beside me. I smiled at his contentment, but my mind was still swirling with thoughts. I couldn't help but wonder if this was it or if I'd get the chance to talk to her again. Maybe she'd come back. With her lingering in my mind, I eventually drifted off to sleep, contemplating the unexpected conversation that had turned my usual day at work into something unforgettable.

The next morning came far too quickly. My alarm blared, and I groaned, rolling over to smack the snooze button. Mr Noodles, the early riser, pounced on my chest and meowed directly in my face until I finally gave in. "Alright, I'm up," I muttered, pushing him off and dragging myself out of bed. After a quick shower, I threw on some clothes and grabbed my bag, ready to head back to The Daily Grind. As I patted Mr. Noodle's head one more time before slipping out the door. I headed out the door, keys in hand, and my phone buzzed as I locked up. I answered. "Hey, Y/N! You're going to have to open up today," she said, practically out of breath like she was jogging. "The twins are dragging their feet and won't put their shoes on! She yelled that last part as I pulled out of my parking spot. "Mama couldn't take them, so I got stuck on babysitter duty again. I'll be in later." I chuckled, imagining the chaos on her end. "No worries, Captain, I can hold down the fort until you come." "Thanks! Oh, and by the way..." Wilma's tone shifted to something more playful. "How did things go with Primera last night?" I paused for a moment, feeling my face heat up. Of course, Wilma was going to ask. I couldn't avoid it, but...did I really have to tell her everything? I could already picture the girl tackling me if she had to find out on her own fruition. "Y/N? You still there?" Wilma prompted, clearly sensing my hesitation. I sighed, knowing there was no way out. "It was fine. We just talked a bit more," I started, trying to keep my voice casual. "Mhm, sure," Wilma replied, egging me on. "And?" I took a deep breath, feeling the warmth creep up my neck. "Jenna...actually walked me to my car," I admitted, my voice quieter now. "And then she teased me, said I had somehow 'charmed' her like it was the most obvious thing in the world. She flashed that smile—half playful, half serious—like she knew she was messing with me. Honestly, it was impossible not to blush." "Wait, hold up, She walked you to your car?" Wilma interrupted, her voice dripping with amusement. I could practically see her grinning on the other side of the phone. "And what smile? You've already memorized her smile, huh?" I groaned, blushing. "It wasn't like that, Wilma. She was just being...friendly." Wilma laughed. "Friendly? Please. You're a natural-born flirt, and you don't even realize it. And with "that" smile? She was totally into i—" "I wasn't flirting!" I protested; the thought of Jenna's smirk made me doubt my words. "She was just messing with me." "Oh sure, because it's so easy to charm someone with those smooth barista skills," Wilma teased. "You better brace yourself when she comes back. You're in trouble, Y/N." "Yeah," I admitted, resting my head on the steering wheel. "And then her bodyguards showed up out of nowhere and scared the life out of me." Wilma's laughter echoed through the phone. "Bodyguards? Of course. This keeps getting better by the second! What else? I know there's more." I sighed, already resigned to the teasing. "She made me promise that the next time she comes by, I'd share some of the stories about some bodyguards at the café." There was a beat of silence, and then, as expected, her laughter doubled. "Y/N, you've got her hooked! Wild café stories? She's definitely coming back now. Congrats—you've got yourself a celebrity lover. You're basically famous." "Wilma, seriously," I groaned. "Please don't blow this out of proportion." "Oh, honey, it's already out of proportion," her voice full of playful mischief. "You've charmed Jenna Ortega, and now she's coming back for more. I can already see it—this is how it all starts." I rolled my eyes, fully aware of how this conversation would go. "You're impossible." Wilma snickered. "Well, look at you—handling business like a pro. Don't let the fame go to your head, mascot. Remember to stay humble when you're hanging out with Hollywood Royalty." "Yeah, yeah," I muttered, though I couldn't suppress the small laugh. "I'll try not to let it change me."

"Alright, gotta get these monsters buckled and shipped off to school. Don't have too much fun without me!" "Sure, I'll try not to, and hopefully, I'll survive the first horde," I said, grinning as I hung up the phone. As I pocketed my phone, I shook my head, a smile lingering on my lips. I was starting to get used to the teasing. I grabbed my bag and headed inside. The sun crept up, casting soft light through the windows as I unlocked the door. Stepping inside, I could still feel the leftover warmth from yesterday. The café was quiet and still, just how I liked it before the rush. I went to the back, checked in, and threw my stuff into my locker before heading to the employee area. I slipped into my all-black barista uniform—simple black pants and a fitted black shirt before getting my apron from the hook by the door. The apron was the only pop of color, a warm brown that stood out against the dark. As I tied it around my waist, I fell into work mode. First things first: the plants. I grabbed the watering can we kept under the counter, filled it up halfway, and made my way around, giving each hanging plant a good drink. The soft trickle of water and the rustle of leaves was strangely calming, making the café feel like it was waking up, too. I always made sure to take extra care of the plants; Wilma was obsessed with them. Her grandmother had a green thumb, and she followed suit. So she'd notice if even one leaf looked droopy. Next up, I headed to the kitchen to bake the day's pastries. The scent of flour and sugar greeted me as I pulled out the ingredients. I started with the croissants, carefully rolling the dough before placing them on the baking tray.

While they baked, I started on the rest of today's menu items. If a customer wanted anything else, we'd bake it fresh for them. Next, the muffins were mixed with batter and folded in fresh blueberries. The lemon scones were last—I zested the lemons, mixed the dough, and shaped them perfectly before sliding them into the oven. As they finished in the oven, the warm, sweet smells began to fill the café, and I could already imagine the regulars lining up for their favorites. Once they were done, I arranged the croissants, muffins, and scones, which were still hot, and I knew they'd be the first to go as soon as we opened the doors. I also double-checked the coffee machines, making sure they were clean and ready to brew all day long. Once the plants were watered and pastries set, I headed to the front window to hang up a new poster advertising an upcoming poetry night we were hosting. Wilma printed and designed it with bold artistic letters and a little sketch of a coffee cup next to it. I used a bit of tape to secure the edges, securing it to the front window and centered for everyone to see. As I finished up, I wiped down the tables and chairs, making sure everything was spotless. The last thing I needed was someone complaining about a sticky spot on a table or chair. I rearranged the cushions, giving the booths that extra welcoming touch. Everything was in place by the time I was done, and The Daily Grind was ready to go. The café had this lived-in feel that always made me smile. It was the kind of space that felt like a warm hug—for anyone who needed it. I poured the fresh streaming brew into a mug, fixing it up just how I liked it, feeling the warmth spreading through my hands. As I leaned against the counter, taking that first comforting sip, a familiar figure appeared outside, her bodyguards in tow. I wasn't even officially open yet, but when Jenna Ortega knocks, who am I to not answer? I walked over to unlock the door, letting her and the guards in. Jenna wasn't in her usual hoodie this time. Today, she wore a stylish see-through white tee paired with a pair of plaid pants with high heels. Looking casual but chic. "You look nice," I said, feeling the comment slip out naturally. Jenna smiled warmly. "Thanks. She added, "I have an early interview for an upcoming film...and then some other boring meetings," her tone was slightly sarcastic. I gave her a teasing look. "Boring? Sounds like you've got a rough life," I joked, rolling my eyes playfully. Jenna chuckles lightly, brushing her hair out of her face. "Yeah, it's tough being me," she shot back. I shrugged, "Well, technically, we're not open yet, but I've already got everything set up, so if you want, I can get you and your crew settled in." Jenna exchanged a quick look with her bodyguards, who nodded back at her. "Thanks, that would be great." I turned to the guards, who had positioned themselves quietly near the entrance. "So, what can I get you guys?" The taller two, who had a more serious demeanor, spoke first. "I'll take a hot coffee. Black, with two pumps of vanilla and a dash of cinnamon." The second guard, who seemed more talkative, said with a small smile, "Tea, please. With milk and one sugar. I'm more of a tea guy myself." I nodded and then looked back at Jenna, expecting her to give her order, but I beat her. "Iced coffee with caramel and whipped cream, right?" Jenna raised an eyebrow, "Not bad. I guess I'm predictable." Jenna leaned her back on the counter as I got to work preparing the drinks, glancing toward the front. "What's that about?" she asked, pointing to the poster I hung earlier. "Oh, that? We run an event for people to come to enjoy poetry or music with their coffee. It's pretty laid-back. Kind of a 'grab the mic if you feel like it' vibe." Jenna nodded, looking at it. "Noted," was all she said softly. "Here's your drinks," I called. Each drink lined up. I handed the bodyguards their drinks, and they settled into the bar area by the cash register while Jenna and I sat at one of the tables, far enough away to talk privately.

"Sorry to inconvenience you again." Jenna replied, smiling briefly before glancing out the window, her fingers tracing the rim of her drink, a little distracted. "You look like you're lost," I teased. "Something on your mind?" Jenna blinked, snapping out of her thoughts and giving me a small smile." Just thinking about the day ahead. Meetings, interviews...nothing too exciting." She glanced at me, smile falling slightly. "But I guess everyone has their own version of busy, right?" I nodded. "Yeah, but at least your 'busy' involves making movies. Not a bad gig." Jenna chuckled softly, "True, but you'd be surprised how much of it is just waiting around, talking about things you've already said a thousand times. It's not all glamorous." I tilted my head slightly, "I can imagine. It's like running a coffee shop. People think it's just pouring drinks and chatting with customers, but there is a lot of behind-the-scenes stuff no one sees." She looked up around me, a spark of intrigue in her eyes. "Yeah? Like what?" I shrugged. "You know, making sure machines are maintained, cleaned, and functional, keeping the inventory stocked, baking pastries fresh every day, And don't even get me started with dealing with the occasional difficult customer, celebrity or not." She laughed, her smile returning tenfold. "I guess we both deal with our fair share of drama, huh?" I grinned, nodding. "Exactly. but hey, at least you get to wear cool outfits. All I get is this apron." She glanced at my apron. "Well...it suits you. And besides, I'm sure you could pull off one or two if you tried." My blush crept up, but I sipped from my cup to cover it. Jenna gave me a playful smile, taking a sip of her own. "So," Jenna began, "Where's Wilma this morning? I feel like I'm missing the other half of this Daily Grind dynamic duo." "She had to drop off her siblings at school," I explained, getting comfortable. "We've been best friends since preschool. Never really been apart, even traveled across the country to open this place together." Jenna's curiosity grew. "That's amazing. No wonder you guys make a great team; you're like a hive mind." I nodded, laughing at the thought. "As terrifying as that is, we do make a great team. Wilma's practically family. We've seen each other through school and jobs. It's been an adventure." Jenna's gaze softened as she asked, "And your real family? Are they around?" I shifted slightly, setting my drink down. "My older brothers, Marcus and Caleb, live here in California with me. We share an apartment together. But the rest of my family, my parents and younger sister, are back in New York." Her eyes lit up. "Wait, you've got a younger sister too? Same here—she can be such a pain, always finding ways to bug me, but that's little sisters for, right?" Jenna chuckled softly, a mix of affection and exaggeration in her voice. "She keeps me on my toes." I chuckled, adding, "Tell me about it. Sometimes, it's a lot of deciding whether to ship her off or not, but I wouldn't trade it for anything. And then, of course, there's Mr. Noodles." Jenna's brow furrowed in confusion, gnawing at her straw. "Mr. Noodles?" I smiled, nodding. My tuxedo cat. He's the real boss of the house." Jenna gasped loudly, startling her guards. "I need to see pictures. Now." I pulled out my phone, scrolling through the dozens of photos I had of Mr. Noodles, and handed it over. Jenna's face lit up with a huge smile as she swiped through the photos. "He's adorable! Look at this gentleman; his tie is too cute! How can you ever leave him to go to work?" I shrugged, shaking my head. "It's tough, but he's got work too. He's a professional napper around the clock, so he manages without me." Jenna handed the phone back, shaking her head in return. But my brain froze; her fingers brushed against mine for a brief moment. It quite literally—shocked me. "Thanks," she said, her hand lingering just a second longer than I expected before she pulled away. "No problem," I replied, trying to calm my racing heart.

"I think I might be in love with Mr. Noodles more than anything else." she joked. I laughed as the door swung open, and Wilma burst in, a disheveled mess, panting like she had just run a marathon. "Sorry, sorry! I swear, herding those beasts into the car is like trying to wrangle lions." Jenna, her guards, and I all turned to look at Wilma, who attempted to play it cool, straightening up as she wiped her brow. "Don't mind me. I'll be in the back getting ready." But before disappearing, she shot me a cheeky smile and said, "Keep charming, mascot." I quickly drank from my empty mug, hoping the ground of the mug would swallow me whole. Jenna raised an eyebrow, "Mascot?" she asked, her voice laced with amusement. I rubbed the back of my neck, "Yeah, it's just Wilma's nickname. She has called me since we opened the café, and she says I'm the face of the place." Jenna let out a laugh, "That's cute. It suits you," she teased, her smile growing. She added, "So, do I call you Mascot now, or is that just reserved by Wilma?" I chuckled, shaking my head. "More like trademarked; she's big on original nicknames but doesn't mind if they stick." "Alright, then, I'll have to go to the drawing board." She chuckled. Jenna's guards glanced at each other, then at the phone in front of them, before standing up. "Ma'am, we've got to head out. Your manager's been calling non-stop," one of them said, holding up Jenna's phone. It read 25 missed calls and 12 growing messages. She sighed, clearly not ready to leave, but she nodded. "Alright, guess I've got to go face the music." She stood up, and I offered to top off her coffee. "You've got a busy schedule. Want a refill to help get through it?" Jenna smiled gratefully. "That would be great, thanks." I quickly refilled her cup, handing it back to her as she pulled out some cash. I frowned, confused. "You don't have to—" She cut me off with a smirk. "I never paid for my drink the other day, and I'm covering today, too. Keep the change as a tip for the drink and for treating me like an actual person." She handed me the cash, along with a piece of paper. As Jenna and her guards left the café, the door softly closed behind them. I stare down at the money. Suddenly, I felt a pinch on my arm. "Ow!" I yelped, spinning around to see Wilma scolding me. "That was to snap you out of it. Also, for not charging your celebrity crush like a regular customer," she teased, hands on her hips. I shot her a look. "I was! I was just caught up in conversation. And besides, Jenna's a good tipper." Looking back at it, I realized the paper wasn't just her receipt—it had her Instagram handle scribbled at the bottom, along with a note that read, 'Thanks for the coffee and conversations again, Slick. You still owe me some more café stories.' I stood there, dumbfounded, as Wilma yelled back, "Come on, mascot, it's opening time before I take your tip!" Snapping back to reality, I shook my head and pocketed the receipt and money. "Alright, alright, I was just counting!"

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Crash Course

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

word count: 822

pairing: Lando Norris x driver!reader

summary: Y/n returns to the paddock after recovering from her injuries, and Lando confronts her with his growing feelings

______________________________________________________________

The days following the crash were a blur for Y/n, filled with recovery sessions and endless interviews about the accident. The media buzzed with speculation, talking more about the rivalry between her and Lando than about the championship itself. Everyone wanted to know if the tension between them had reached a breaking point.

But Y/n couldn’t stop thinking about what Lando had said. His confession kept replaying in her mind, stirring something she hadn’t allowed herself to feel before. She kept pushing it aside, trying to focus on her recovery and the upcoming races, but it lingered in the back of her thoughts, persistent and confusing.

A few days later, Y/n was back at the paddock, still moving a little stiffly but determined to show everyone she was ready to race again. She walked through the garage, her team bustling around her, making sure everything was in place for the next practice session.

As she sat down to review some data, she felt a presence behind her before she heard the voice.

“Back so soon?” Lando’s voice was light, but she could hear the edge of concern behind it.

Y/n glanced over her shoulder, seeing him leaning casually against the wall, hands in his pockets. He looked relaxed, but his eyes were studying her closely, as if assessing whether she was really okay.

“Did you expect me to stay away?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “I can’t let you have all the fun, can I?”

Lando smirked, pushing off the wall and walking closer. “Just making sure you’re not pushing yourself too hard.”

“I’m fine,” Y/n insisted, though the slight wince as she shifted in her seat betrayed her.

Lando noticed, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You sure about that?”

Y/n sighed, rolling her eyes. “You sound like my doctor.”

“Maybe I should be,” he teased, but there was an underlying sincerity in his tone. “Look, I just… I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

Y/n paused, the playful banter between them losing its edge. There it was again—that concern, that softness. She wasn’t used to this version of Lando, and it made her feel off-balance.

“Why do you care so much?” she asked quietly, looking up at him.

Lando hesitated, his playful smile fading. He glanced around to make sure no one was within earshot before sitting down on the chair next to hers. “Because I meant what I said, Y/n. After the crash, when you almost collapsed… I realized how much I care. More than I probably should.”

Her heart skipped a beat, the air around them growing thick with tension. “Lando…”

“I know we’re rivals,” he continued, his voice low and serious. “And we’re both fighting for the championship, but… that doesn’t change how I feel.”

Y/n’s pulse quickened, her thoughts racing. This was happening—he was actually saying it, putting into words what had been unspoken between them for so long. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. How could she explain the way she felt, when she wasn’t even sure herself?

Seeing her hesitation, Lando sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, I get it. This is complicated. And if you don’t feel the same way, we can forget it—”

“No,” Y/n interrupted, her voice firm. She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. “It’s not that. I just… I’ve been so focused on beating you, on proving I’m the best, that I didn’t stop to think about anything else.”

Lando’s eyes softened, a glimmer of hope flickering in his expression. “And now?”

Y/n looked at him, the weight of her feelings settling in her chest. “Now, I’m starting to realize there’s more to this than just the rivalry.”

For a moment, they sat in silence, the noise of the paddock fading into the background as they looked at each other, a silent understanding passing between them. The tension that had always existed between them was still there, but it had changed—shifted into something neither of them had expected.

Lando leaned in slightly, his voice barely above a whisper. “So… what now?”

Y/n swallowed hard, her heart racing. She knew they couldn’t just flip a switch and change everything. They were still competitors, still fighting for the same title. But maybe—just maybe—they could be something more, too.

“I guess we see what happens,” she replied softly, her eyes locking with his.

Lando’s lips curled into a small smile. “I like the sound of that.”

Before they could say anything else, Y/n’s team called her over for a briefing. She stood up, feeling Lando’s eyes on her as she turned to leave. Just before she walked away, she glanced back at him, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Maybe this wasn’t the end of their rivalry—but it could be the beginning of something else. Something that neither of them had been prepared for, but now seemed impossible to ignore.

[milfhunter6698]

Under pressure pt6

synopsis: Upon joining the NYC firm as a new associate, you quickly find yourself facing the pressure of working under the firm’s star senior partner, Victoria neuman. With a reputation for excellence and an eye for potential, she was searching for a junior partner who can meet her exacting standards. You, with your impressive credentials and unwavering ambition, seemed like a perfect fit…until the pressure of meeting those high expectations started taking their toll. 

Warnings: 18+ eventual smut, no use of (y/n), cursing, no describing reader’s appearance, explicit language, fluff, angst, teasing, hurt & comfort, power imbalance, slight AU, some similarities to cannon, mentions of the boys characters (Hughie), slight age gap, rival associates, young!reader, older!Victoria, slow-burn, infidelity.

Notes: Happy wednesday everyone how we feeling, new chapter let’s get itt. Loosely proofread because i’m fighting for my life trying to keep my eyes open lmao anyway have fun! also thanks for all the support i’ve been getting on this story so far muah you already know ily guys.

previous chapter

wc: 4k

Excitement filled the air. The firm had finally won a high-profile case that had been looming over them for months. As colleagues mingled and celebrated, you sat alone at a table in the corner, nursing a drink. The clinking glasses and laughter around you felt distant and hollow.

Your recent breakup left you feeling detached, and your frustration with Victoria’s role in your life had only added to your discontent. The moments you kept having, the kisses that neither of you even acknowledged openly made you feel so lost.

Victoria, in her element, was surrounded by colleagues, but her eyes frequently drifted towards you. She noticed your somber demeanor and felt a pang of concern. As the evening wore on, she approached you, a warm smile on her face.

“Congratulations on the win,” She said, her tone light, but there was a hint of something deeper in her eyes.

You barely looked up. “Thanks,” replying curtly, you took a sip of your drink. The bitterness of the alcohol mirroring your mood.

Her smile faltered. “You don’t seem very celebratory. Everything alright?”

You set down your glass, frustration boiling within. Under the influence of alcohol, you felt braver than usual. “How can you act like everything’s normal? You barge into my life, complicate everything, and now everything’s a mess. How am I-… I supposed to j-..ust ignore that?”

Victoria’s eyes widened in surprise she let out a nervous laugh. “What—”

“No, you don’t. You don’t get to act like nothing’s wrong,” You continued, your voice rising. “I don’t even know if you’re the reason for m’breakup or..or.. just a part of it, but y-..you.. have no idea how much you’ve messed with my head.” you slurred, taking a swing of your drink.

She took a step back, hurt and confused. “Wait hold on— I didn’t… I’m sorry I didn’t mean to cause you any pain.”

Your chest tightened, and you stood abruptly, your hand brushing past her as your shoulders bumped. "I need some fresh air." You left the bar, escaping the hum and buzz of the celebration.

Stepping out into the night, the city embraced you, the cool air wrapping around you like a blanket. “Hey wait up!” Victoria called out, “I didn’t know,” she said quietly. “Let’s talk about this.”

You heard her voice echoing through the night, though you didn’t turn, she caught up and stopped a few feet away from you, her presence soothing despite the tension. Your steps pausing when her hand landed gently on your shoulder, urging you to turn around and face her.

“I didn’t mean to be a complication. But I can’t deny how I feel. This is hard for me too you know…” She reached out, her hand gently cupping your jaw. “I’ve liked you from the moment you walked into the firm.” Her words were sincere, and the vulnerability in her eyes made your heart ache.

Your foreheads pressed against each other, your breath caught as you noticed how much you actually wanted her close. The warmth of her body against yours, the softness of her skin, brought you a sense of comfort and peace you hadn’t felt in a really long time.

You tried to pull away, to make it stop but you found it difficult to resist the closeness. “I can’t stop thinking about you, and it’s…driving me crazy.” she confessed in a near-whisper, her eyes drifting shut.

Your throat constricted, and your heart pounded against your chest. "I don't even know what to say," you breathed, hardly audible as you nuzzled your nose into her cheek.

Victoria's voice was soft, yet assertive. The thick, charged air hung heavily, her trembling lips parting, "Just... be honest with me. What do you want?" You gulped, the words swirling in your head before you finally stammered, "I... I want you, Victoria."

For a moment, she stepped back, heart raced wildly, every nerve buzzing as you awaited her response. Your eyelids fluttering open meeting her gaze. Then, she moved towards you again, unable to contain her feelings any longer, she leaned in, your lips crashing together in a fierce, passionate kiss.

Time stopped as her lips devoured yours, stealing your breath in the most exhilarating way. Her firm grip around your waist tugged you closer, you reached up, gripping a handful of her soft hair, pulling her in while eagerly welcoming her touch. You held her close, clinging to her like a drowning man grasping for a lifesaver.

You groaned as you woke up to the sound of something vibrating against your hip. Your phone buzzed incessantly in your pocket, dragging you out of a deep, disoriented sleep. You shifted, trying to get comfortable, only to feel the ground beneath you. Wait… the ground?

With a sudden jolt, you realized you weren’t on the bed. You were instead on the floor, tangled in your blanket, half on the couch, half sprawled on the living room rug. Your head pounded, and you blinked in confusion as memories from the night before filtered back.

“Damn it,” you muttered, realizing you’d fallen asleep on the couch after downing one too many drinks at the celebration.

Your phone buzzed again, and you fumbled for it. It was already late—later than you’d ever intended to wake up. “Ugh, perfect start to the day,” you grumbled, throwing on some clothes as you dashed out the door.

By the time you stumbled into the firm, you were in rough shape. Your hair was a mess, your shirt half-tucked, and your eyes half-open. As you hurried down the hallway toward your desk, Hughie spotted you and couldn’t resist. “Whoa looks like you just crawled out of a dumpster,” He said with a snicker. “Rough night?”

You shot him a half-hearted glare, still rubbing your temples. “Not in the mood, Hughie.”

“Oh, come on. You look like you lost a fight with a tequila bottle,” He continued, laughing at his own joke. “Did you forget the firm’s rule about handling hangovers? ‘Fake it till you make it,’ ”

You ignored him, not willing to engage, and trudged toward your desk, hoping to make it through the day unnoticed. But that hope vanished when your phone buzzed with a message from Victoria. ‘My office. Now.’

Great, just what you needed.

You strode down the hallway, steeling yourself for another one of Victoria’s sharp critiques. When you stepped inside her office, she was sitting at her desk, paperwork in hand. Without looking up, she said “Rough morning?”

You opened your mouth to respond but stopped short when she glanced up at you. There was a hint of amusement in her eyes—something you weren’t expecting. Usually, she’d tear into you for showing up in this state, but instead, she just shook her head with a barely-contained smile.

“You look like death warmed over,” she commented, a slight laugh escaping her lips. Oh okay? thanks.. You rubbed the back of your neck, trying to play it off. “Yeah, I might have had one too many last night.”

“I can see that,” she replied, smirking. “Lucky for you, I’m in a good mood today.”

You raised an eyebrow, still waiting for the reprimand that was surely coming. But instead she leaned back in her chair, her expression softening for just a moment.

“Go freshen up. I’ve got a new case for you to handle, and I need you at your best,” she said, gesturing toward the door. “You’re not getting off easy just because you’re hungover.”

You gave her a sheepish nod. “Right. I’ll… I’ll get it together.” As you turned to leave, her voice followed you. Pausing, you glanced back over your shoulder.

“Next time, maybe lay off the tequila.”

You shook your head fighting back a smile, as you hurried to the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face in a desperate attempt to wake up. As you stared at your reflection, you couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. The pounding in your head was still there, but at least Victoria hadn’t ripped into you. That was a win, right?

By the time you returned to your desk, Hughie was still hanging around, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “You live to fight another day, huh?”

Rolling your eyes, you wryly replied, "Unfortunately, yes."

He stepped closer, his stupid grin unmoving. "Well, at least you're not fired. Small victories."

You let out a deep exasperated breath, shaking your head, fingers tapping impatiently against the keyboard. "Can you just let me work, will you?"

His grin widened, raising his arms in a mock surrender. "Don't let me stop you." With that, he finally left storming off down the hallway.

It was an early—afternoon, now with your head a little clearer and some coffee in your system, you dove into the case Victoria had assigned you with. Staring down at the files she’d tossed onto your desk earlier that morning.

The case involved a shady luxury real estate developer suspected of embezzling millions, and conducting some “off the books” transactions. The firm needed someone to gather intel, and for some reason, she had chosen you to go undercover—with her, you of all people.

The sun shone brightly as you adjusted your blazer, standing outside the grand apartment building in Manhattan’s Upper East Side. You glanced over at Victoria, who was effortlessly playing the part of your upscale, your sophisticated “Wife.”She looked stunning, as usual, in a chic, tailored outfit that screamed elegance. The glint in her eyes suggested she was already a step ahead of you.

The plan was simple enough: pose as a married couple looking for a luxury apartment in an upscale building. You would snoop around, strike up casual conversations with the real estate agents, and see what you could uncover. Seemed straightforward… right? Except… playing pretend with Victoria wasn’t exactly something you’d been prepared for.

“Well, Ms. Adams,” Victoria said in a playful tone, slipping her arm through yours. “Shall we see if this place is up to our standards?”

You smirked, your nerves only slightly getting the better of you. “Let’s hope the kitchen has an island. You know how I can’t live without one.”

She chuckled softly as you made your way inside the pristine lobby. You were greeted by a sharply dressed agent, who led you through the gleaming corridors, talking up the amenities of the building. you felt a small jolt of tension every time Victoria’s arm brushed against yours.

Inside the apartment, you played your roles seamlessly. She wandered around with the air of a woman used to luxury, commenting on the layout while you made subtle inquiries about the building’s other residents, dropping casual hints to pry for information. But as much as you tried to focus on the case, you found your mind wandering to how convincingVictoria was as your partner.

At one point, she turned to you with a playful grin. “What do you think, darling? Does this place scream ‘home sweet home’?”

Darling..

You chuckled nervously, trying to stay in character. “It’s perfect… but we might need more closet space. You know how you can never resist buying another pair of shoes.”

She raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “Oh, I think we’ll manage. I’m sure we’ll have plenty of room to grow.”

There was a subtle, almost flirtatious tension in her words, and for a split second, your mind went blank. You quickly recovered, though the blush creeping up your neck was harder to hide. The agent, oblivious to the undercurrent between you, continued his tour.

As you finally left the building, you felt your pulse quicken. You shot a sidelong glance at Victoria, still trying to figure out what had just unraveled between you during the tour. “Is it just me,” you started, hesitating for a moment, “or did we get a little too into character back there?”

She looked at you with a bemused expression. “What’s the matter? I thought you enjoyed playing house.”

“Playing house?” You repeated, your brow furrowing as you stepped out onto the sidewalk. “You were practically flirting in there.”

Her lips twitched with amusement, her eyes glinting. “We’re supposed to be a married couple, aren’t we? It’s called method acting.” She winked at you playfully, and you found yourself momentarily speechless.

“Method acting, right,” you muttered, rubbing the back of your neck. “You were really committed.”

Victoria shot you a sideways glance, an impish smile playing on her lips. “You weren’t so bad yourself. If this lawyer thing doesn’t work out, we can always give Hollywood a try.”

You scoffed, still flustered. Before you could respond, a cab pulled up, and Victoria slid in gracefully, motioning for you to follow. You were still trying to process what had happened inside the building when she quipped, “By the way, you might want to work on your romantic banter. You nearly broke character back there.”

You stared at her, momentarily caught off guard, before letting out a soft laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind next time we’re… married.”

She smirked, settling back into the seat as the cab began to move. “Good. Wouldn’t want you to embarrass me.”

As the cab weaved through traffic, you glanced out the window, still feeling the lingering tension between you. The case was far from over, and yet your mind wasn’t entirely on the mission. She had a way of throwing you off balance—making you question things you’d never even considered. And for your life, you couldn’t figure out why you liked it so much.

The following days blended by seamlessly, and you found yourself standing in front of a mirror in a dimly lit room adjacent to the bar, fixing your hair, you wore a casual, square collar midi dress that hugged your curves perfectly. You know.. just something suitable for posing as the attorney of a notorious criminal, nothing too extreme. You honestly don’t even know how you got to this point but here you are, going undercover was your new thing apparently.

Your hands were slightly shaking, not from fear but from the weight of what’s about to unfold. This was new, something you’ve never thought you’d do. The client you’re meeting tonight isn’t just any dangerous criminal—he’s one of the most famous mob bosses in the city. The firm was using this opportunity to extract critical information about his operations, something the police haven’t been able to do for years.

As you struggled adjusting your dress, Victoria enters the room, clipboard in hand, wearing a confident smirk. She’s there not just as your handler but also to ease your tension. She walks up to you, scanning your outfit with an assessing look.

She steps forward, her fingers brushing the fabric of your dress as she helps you tuck in the wires for the surveillance equipment. Her touch is brief but electric, causing you to stiffen slightly. You tried to focus, but the closeness between you only makes it worse.

“You look like you’re about to argue a case in court, not meet a mob boss. Loosen up.”

Victoria steps even closer, her eyes narrowing as she ensures none of the wires were visible. Your heartbeat quickens as her cool fingers graze your neck.

You spoke half-joking, “Aren’t we supposed to be keeping things low-key? I feel like I’m being wired to take down a casino.”

Victoria chuckled. “You are. But you don’t have to look like it. Try to relax—if you don’t, he’ll sense something’s off the moment he sees you.”

Your eyes darted to Victoria's lips as she spoke, a quiet snicker escaped you. "You're enjoying this way too much," you whispered, barely audible. Your breath caught in your throat as her fingers deftly tucked the wire into the edge of your bra skillfully concealing it.

A moment of silence passed between you, and your gaze locked with hers. Your heart raced, air barely reaching your lungs. She grinned, her lips curving into a teasing smile, “Just making sure you don’t blow our cover. Can’t have you getting arrested for looking suspicious before the real action starts.”

She finishes securing the wire and steps back, giving you one last look-over. There’s another beat of silence as you stood face-to-face. You inhaled sharply, trying to compose yourself before exiting the room.

Before heading into the bar, Victoria explains the stakes again, though you already knew them by heart. The client, Anthony Romano, is the leader of a dangerous criminal organization involved in everything from illegal arms deals to racketeering. His lawyers have been shielding him for years, but now they’ve slipped up.

A recent FBI raid uncovered documents implicating him, and the firm is stepping in under the guise of providing legal support. Your job is to act as his attorney, earn his trust, and get him to reveal information they can use against him.

She continues briefing you, her tone more serious than it was earlier. “Romano’s not stupid. He’s been in this business for decades. One wrong move, one misplaced word, and he’ll know something’s up. The police want him behind bars, but the firm needs him to slip up first.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Then we try again. But tonight is our best shot. Just keep him talking about the case—his recent charges, the way the FBI’s closing in. He’s paranoid, and if you feed that paranoia, he might let something slip.”

Victoria gives you a firm look, and you nod, your focus returning, as you straightened up your posture taking in a deep breath.

“Look I trust you…we all do. You’ve got this. And if you get in trouble, I’m right here, listening in. Just keep your cool.” she spoke her tone softening.

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one meeting a mob boss.” you smiled wryly.

She chuckles softly, a hint of admiration in her eyes as she steps aside, allowing you to head into the bar.

Once there, you scanned the room. The lighting is dim, the air thick with the scent of expensive whiskey and cigars. Romano isn’t here yet, which gives you a moment to settle at a table, order a drink, and mentally prepare. You adjusted the wire under your dress once more, ensuring everything is in place.

Victoria’s voice crackles softly in your ear through the earpiece. “Martini? Seriously? You know we’re trying to blend in, not stand out, right?”

You smirked, taking a sip of your drink. “You were the one who said to loosen up. Besides, it’s not like Romano’s going to care about my drink order.”

“Just don’t get too comfortable. Remember, you’re a hotshot lawyer, not some secret agent spy.”

You can hear the subtle amusement in her voice, but you stayed focused on the task at hand. Your fingers tap rhythmically on the table, eyes darting to the door every few seconds, waiting for him to arrive.

After a few moments, the bar door swings open, and Anthony Romano walks in. He’s taller than you expected, with a commanding presence that instantly silences the room. Suddenly a wave of anxiety washed through you as his bodyguards flanked him before he made his way toward your table, sitting down across from you with a cold, assessing gaze.

He wastes no time getting to business, his eyes sharp and distrustful. He leans forward, his voice a low growl. “So, you’re the one they sent to fix this mess?” His tone was mocking as his gaze roved over your body.

You nod, keeping your expression neutral, trying to remember all the points Victoria drilled into you earlier. Shifting uncomfortably in your seat, you inhaled a deep breath before responding. “That’s right. I’ve looked over the documents the FBI confiscated—there’s a lot to work with, but it’s going to take some time to find the right approach. We’re going to need to be patient.”

Romano narrows his eyes, his suspicion evident, “Patient? I don’t have time for patience. I need results.”

You felt a bead of sweat forming at the back of your neck, but you don’t let it show. You force a confident smile, channeling your inner courtroom demeanor. “Trust me, you want us to take our time with this. If we rush, we miss things, and that’s how they win. We can make this case go away, but we need to play it smart.”

Just as you were getting into rhythm, Victoria’s voice buzzes in your ear again, dripping with playful sarcasm. “Smooth. Really smooth. Almost had me convinced there.”

You nearly choked on your drink, but you manage to keep a straight face. Romano doesn’t notice, but the brief distraction causes your mind to race. You take another sip, using the drink as an excuse to pause, while Victoria continues her teasing.

“Just try not to smile. He’s not going to confess if you look like you’re having fun.”

Romano, still unaware of the wire, continues talking about the legal mess he’s in, mentioning the FBI raid, the missing documents, and his frustrations with his current legal team. You listen carefully, trying to pull as much information as possible from the conversation while ignoring Victoria’s occasional jabs.

Eventually, he lets slip more than he intended. He casually mentions an associate who “took care of things” during the raid, revealing just enough for the police to move in.

Suddenly, the bar erupts into chaos. Plainclothes officers, previously hidden among the patrons, move in. Romano’s bodyguards react immediately, but they’re outnumbered. His eyes widen as the handcuffs are slapped onto his wrists.

You stood up, watching as Romano gets escorted out, your heart pounding in your chest. You let out a sigh of relief the operation was a success the pressure is gone and Romano is caught, and your part in the case is over— at least for now.

Soon Victoria walks into the bar, her lips curling into a satisfied grin. “You know, you’re not too bad at this, though I didn’t peg you for someone who could talk business and order a martini at the same time.”

You let out a long breath, shaking your head. “I thought I was going to blow it for a second there.”

She steps closer, her teasing tone returning. “Well, you did almost smile in the middle of a confession. But, other than that, you were perfect.”

You frowned, scoffing. "What? how could you even—"

She cut you off, walking away without looking back. "I just know."

You shook your head in amusement, before following her towards the exit. As you stepped outside the bar, the tension finally eases. Casting a glance at her, you notice the shared relief etched on her face.

"Hey listen.. how about we uh, debrief somewhere..." You trailed off, your eyes meeting hers, hints of a smile playing at your lips. "My place? This time, with a proper drink?"

Her eyebrow arches, amusement flickering in her gaze. "A proper drink, huh?" She replies, her eyes sparkling with humor. You watch as a delicate smirk tugs at her lips, making your heart flutter. "Sounds like a plan," she agrees, gesturing for you to lead.

Your own smile widens, and you extend an arm signaling for a cab to pull up, you open the door for Victoria, a thrill coursing through you as you slid in behind her, eager to see how the night would unfold.

[cheynovak]

Sweetheart

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Y/N Female character     

Summary: After years apart, Y/N and Jensen, high school sweethearts, unexpectedly reunite. As they reminisce about their past, Jensen expresses regret about their breakup, and the chemistry between them reignites. Despite the weight of Jensen's current relationship with Danneel, they share a tentative kiss that brings back fond memories of their first love.

Warnings: none

*Please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

I sat at the dimly lit bar, nursing a glass of wine, absently watching the room filled with chatter and laughter. It had been a long week, and I needed a quiet moment to myself. At least that was the plan. But life had a funny way of messing up those plans.

Because across the room, sitting at a table with a group of familiar faces, was Jensen Ackles. My heart dropped into my stomach.

Jensen.

The memories hit me like a wave—late-night drives, stolen kisses under the stars, the reckless thrill of being young and in love. We were high school sweethearts once upon a time. Back when things were simple, before his acting career took off and our lives spun in completely different directions.

I thought I’d gotten over him. After all, it had been a lifetime. But there he was, laughing with his friends—Jared, Gen, and his wife, Danneel. All smiles, completely unaware that I was sitting there watching from a distance, fighting the urge to bolt out of the bar.

Just as I was about to slip out quietly, he turned, his eyes catching mine. His laughter stilled, replaced by a look of pure shock. Then, something softened in his expression—recognition, nostalgia, maybe even regret. Before I knew it, he was standing up and walking toward me.

“Y/N?”

His voice was the same as I remembered—deep, with that familiar Texas drawl that used to make my heart skip a beat.

“Hey, Jensen.” I tried to keep my voice steady, but seeing him up close after all these years made my chest tighten.

“Wow, it’s really you,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “It’s been forever.”

I nodded. “Yeah, it has.”

He glanced back at his table, where Danneel was eyeing us curiously, and then turned back to me. “Listen, we’ve got some room at our table. You should come join us. Catch up a bit?”

I hesitated. Sitting down with Jensen and his friends wasn’t exactly the way I envisioned spending my evening, but something about the look in his eyes made it impossible to say no.

“Sure,” I said, offering a small smile.

As we walked over, Danneel’s eyes flickered between us, but she smiled politely when I sat down. Jared gave me a big grin, and Gen waved. They were all friendly, but I could feel the tension in the air.

--

“So, Y/N, how do you know Jensen?” Jared asked, breaking the ice.

Jensen chuckled, glancing at me. “We went to high school together. We eh... Dated for a while, actually.”

There was a brief pause before Jared’s eyes widened. “No way. You’re that Y/N?”

I laughed softly. “Yeah, I guess I am.” looking at Danneel, who didn't seemed pleased with me being there.

--

Jensen and I were thrown back into the past. We started talking about the memories we had buried for years—the late-night drives, the reckless things we used to do when we were teenagers, and how Jensen once stole his dad’s car just so we could drive around town at 2 a.m.

“You were terrified we’d get caught,” Jensen teased, nudging me with his elbow. “But you still climbed in anyway.”

“I didn’t want to miss out on the fun,” I shot back. “Plus, you were always the smooth talker. I figured if we got pulled over, you’d charm your way out of it.”

Jared laughed. “Oh man, I can picture that. Jensen with that cheesy grin, trying to sweet-talk the cops.”

Gen leaned in, smiling. “And you stayed out all night?”

“Not all night,” I said, laughing. “But we drove around for a while, talking about everything and nothing.”

“Yeah, and you made me park by the lake...” Jensen added, his voice softening. My breath caught at that, the intensity of his gaze bringing back memories I thought I’d buried.

There was a time when he knew everything about me and I never miss one of his games, no matter the sport, how he’d always catch my eye from the field or the court and flash that smile, just for me.

Sitting there with Jensen, surrounded by his friends, I couldn’t help but feel like I was being transported back in time. The weight of years between us was starting to slip away with every memory that bubbled up between us.

Jensen leaned forward, his eyes locked on mine as if we were the only two people in the room. “Do you remember when you used to just sit in your room, lost in one of those books, and I’d be trying to get your attention?”

I couldn’t help but laugh, the memory as clear as day. “Oh God, you mean when you’d literally cling to my legs like some sort of needy puppy?”

He grinned sheepishly. “Hey, I wasn’t that bad.”

I shot him a teasing look. “Jensen, you would lie on the bed, wrap your arms around my knees, and just hold on while I tried to read. I couldn’t even walk, and all you’d do was look up at me, waiting for me to give in.”

Jared snorted into his drink, clearly amused by the image of a younger Jensen desperately vying for attention.

“I had to fight for your attention,” Jensen said, a twinkle in his eyes. “But honestly? I secretly loved it when you’d ignore me and just keep reading. You always looked so peaceful, completely lost in whatever world you were in.”

My smile softened, a warmth blooming in my chest. Those quiet moments, when it was just the two of us, had been some of my favorites. No words, no pressure—just the comfort of being with each other.

“Then there were the not-so-quiet moments,” I said, raising an eyebrow. “Like that time during one of your soccer games, when you got hurt…”

“Oh man,” Jensen groaned, already knowing where I was headed.

Gen leaned forward, clearly invested in the story. “What happened?”

“He got tackled pretty hard during a game,” I said, recalling the scene like it was yesterday. “The ref didn’t call anything, and I lost it. I yelled at him from the bleachers so loudly, everyone turned to look.”

Jensen laughed, shaking his head. “You were fuming. I swear, I’ve never seen you that angry before.”

“I was ready to throw hands with that referee,” I said, my voice lighter than I felt as the memory surged. “No one was going to hurt you on my watch.”

Danneel, who had been quietly sipping her drink, quirked a brow at that, her smile tightening ever so slightly. I ignored the tension radiating from her side of the table, trying to focus on the flood of old memories that were coming back faster than I could process. Maybe it was time to stop this trip down memory lane, but Jensen thought different.

“And then there was that trip to my family’s lake house,” Jensen said suddenly, his voice dipping into a playful tone. His eyes glinted with mischief, and I knew exactly what story he was about to bring up. “Remember how my dad almost caught us?”

“Oh God,” I groaned, covering my face with my hands. “How could I forget? You made me jump out of a window, Jensen.”

Jared nearly choked on his drink. “Wait, what?”

Jensen was grinning like an idiot now, clearly relishing in the memory. “After a school year of dating each other, my family invited her along for the summer."

I added: "We were supposed to be in separate rooms, you know—strict family rules. That was my moms only rule."

"But I snuck Y/N into my room late that night. We were just talking, hanging out. Nothing crazy.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, just talking—until we heard your dad walking down the hall. You panicked and threw me out of the window.”

Jensen burst out laughing. “You didn’t even hesitate! I told you to jump, and you were out of there in seconds.”

“You gave me no choice! Your dad knocked on the door, and I thought for sure we were caught,” I said, laughing at the absurdity of it now. “I ended up hiding under the deck in my pajamas, freezing, while you played it cool upstairs like nothing happened.”

“I’m impressed,” Gen said, grinning. “That’s some serious stealth.”

“I wasn’t feeling too stealthy at the time,” I admitted, still laughing. “But we made it out alive, somehow.”

Jensen shook his head, the smile lingering on his lips. “That weekend was one of the best I’ve ever had, though. We stayed up late, talked about everything—your dreams, my acting, what the future might look like. You made me feel like I could do anything.”

I felt a lump form in my throat at his words. I remembered those nights vividly, especially one night, the night I lost my virginity to Jensen. He made sure it was perfect. And I was pretty sure that night was on his mind right now, while he was smirking looking at his hands on the table.

Besides a romantic he was also full of ambition back then, and I was convinced he’d make it big. I had always believed in him, even when the world seemed like it was asking for too much.

There was a moment where it felt like everything around us had faded, like the rest of the table didn’t exist. Just me and Jensen, sitting in the memories of a time when we were so young and so sure of each other.

But then, just as quickly, the weight of the present came crashing back in.

Danneel shifted beside him, her eyes on me, her smile no longer reaching her eyes. “So, why did it end?” she asked, her voice soft but carrying an edge. “If everything was so perfect back then?”

The question hung in the air, cutting through the laughter like a knife.

I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling like I couldn’t breathe. The reality of it all—the years apart, the heartbreak, the different lives we’d built—crashed down on me.

Jensen was looking at me, his expression unreadable. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t relive that part of the story. The part where we broke up, where his career took him away, where I was left behind to figure out how to move on without him.

I swallowed hard, looking down at my glass. “Sometimes life just takes you in different directions,” I said quietly, not daring to meet her eyes. “Jensen’s acting career was taking off, and I… I had my own path to follow. We couldn’t make it work with the distance.”

It was a truth that still stung, even after all this time. I’d always been proud of him, but it didn’t make it any easier when our worlds no longer fit together.

Jensen looked like he wanted to say something, but I couldn’t stay. Not with Danneel’s question lingering in the air, not with the way my heart was pounding in my chest.

I stood up abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. “I should really get going,” I said, forcing a smile, my voice tight. “It’s getting late.”

Jensen reached out as if he wanted to stop me, but he hesitated. “Y/N…”

“I’m glad we got to catch up,” I said quickly, trying to keep my voice steady. “It was nice seeing you, Jensen. All of you.”

Before anyone could say anything else, I turned and walked out, my heart pounding in my chest. The cool night air hit me as I stepped outside, but it did nothing to ease the storm swirling inside of me.

Some memories were just too heavy to carry, even when they were wrapped in laughter.

Without waiting for a response, I turned and walked out of the bar, the cool night air hitting my face as I stepped outside. My chest felt tight, and I didn’t stop walking until I was far enough away that I could breathe again.

Some things were better left in the past. Even if the heart had a way of clinging to them.

As I stepped out into the cool night air, my heart raced. I thought I could escape the weight of the past, but as I made my way down the sidewalk, I heard the familiar sound of footsteps rushing after me.

“Y/N!” Jensen called, his voice full of urgency. I paused, glancing over my shoulder to see him closing the distance between us, concern etched on his face. He caught up to me, gently grabbing my arm to stop me.

“Hey, wait,” he said, his breath coming a bit heavier. The warmth of his hand on my arm sent a shiver through me.

I turned to face him, my chest tightening as I looked into his deep green eyes. “What is it, Jensen?”

"Don't leave like that please." I shuffled nervously.

His brow furrowed slightly as he studied my face. “You really haven’t changed, have you?” I couldn’t help but smile at that, he was trying to stall. “Neither have you.”

He tilted his head, an amused grin forming on his lips. “Have you ever even cut your hair differently?” I asked.

Instinctively, my hand moved to his hair, brushing my fingers through the familiar softness. The moment hung in the air between us, electric and charged with memories. But as I realized what I had done, my breath caught in my throat.

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly, pulling my hand back, embarrassment flooding my cheeks.

But he held my hand in place, bringing it back to his side, fingers intertwined. “You clearly missed 15 years of my career,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

I smiled, shaking my head. “Oh no, I really liked Supernatural.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. “You watched?”

I looked down, a shy smile creeping onto my face. “I promised you I’d support you. Always.”

His thumb brushed over my cheek, the gentle touch sending a spark through me. His eyes locked on my lips. “It would be wrong if I want to kiss you, right?” he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.

I swallowed hard, my heart racing at the thought. “Yeah, right…”

But deep down, my heart was screaming the opposite. It wanted to feel his perfect lips against mine again, to bridge the gap that had formed between us over the years. All the memories of stolen kisses, laughter, and the way he used to look at me flooded back, overwhelming me.

“I shouldn’t have let you go all those years ago,” he said suddenly, the weight of his words heavy in the cool night air breaking the chain of thoughts. “I thought I could handle it, but I never realized how much I’d miss you.”

My breath caught at the honesty in his eyes, the raw vulnerability that made my heart ache. “Jensen…”

“I know... and I don’t want to put you on the spot,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “But seeing you tonight brought back... rverything, and I can’t pretend it doesn’t matter.”

I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes, a mix of happiness and longing. “You matter, Jensen. You always have.”

He stepped closer, his breath mingling with the cool night air. “Then why did we let it slip away?” His voice was thick with emotion, and I could see the conflict in his eyes.

“Because life happened,” I replied softly, my voice shaking. “We both got caught up in our dreams and forgot how to hold on to each other.”

“But we’re here now,” he said, a glimmer of hope in his gaze. “Can’t we just…?”

The warmth of his hand still holding mine, the softness of his touch—it felt so right. Everything in me wanted to say yes, to lean in and kiss him and pretend that nothing had ever changed. But reality loomed like a shadow, reminding me of all that had passed between us.

“I don’t know,” I whispered, my heart torn between what I wanted and what I thought was right.

He stepped even closer, tilting my chin up with his fingers, forcing me to meet his gaze. “ I don’t want to lose you again. I can’t.”

The sincerity in his eyes made my heart swell, but the fear of what that meant for us, after all this time, pulled me back. I could feel the tension between us thickening, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.

And for a brief moment, I let myself imagine what it would be like to kiss him again. To feel his lips against mine, to reclaim that spark that had never truly gone away.

But then I remembered Danneel’s earlier words, the weight of their relationship looming like a cloud over us. It felt wrong, messy, and yet—

“Maybe you’re just drunk,” I joked, trying to lighten the mood, hoping it would ease the tension hanging between us.

“No,” he said, shaking his head, his gaze never leaving mine. “I’ve never been more sober in my life.”

The seriousness in his voice sent a rush of warmth through me, and before I knew it, he moved in closer, his intentions clear. There was an unspoken understanding in the air—he was giving me a chance to back out. But I didn’t want to back out. I couldn’t.

As he leaned in, I saw the same teenage boy I had fallen for all those years ago. The one who had clung to my legs while I read, the one who had made me laugh until my sides hurt, the one who had kissed me beneath the stars and took my breath away. That sweet, sweet young man who had always made me feel like I was his whole world.

His freckles were lighter now, but his eyes still shone with that same vibrant light that had captivated me back then. It was like he had somehow retained every part of himself that I had loved. And suddenly, the chaos of our lives faded into the background. All that mattered was the two of us standing there in the night, the world around us falling silent.

When his lips brushed over mine, I closed my eyes, surrendering to the moment. The warmth of his touch ignited something deep within me, pulling me back to that summer by the lake, when everything felt perfect and right. I could almost hear the sound of the water lapping at the shore, feel the gentle breeze on my skin.

It was there, in that sacred space between us, that I remembered the first time he said, “I love you.” It was shy, a whisper barely carried by the wind, but it was everything I had ever wanted to hear. That moment was etched in my heart, and now, with his lips on mine again, it felt like we were reclaiming it.

The kiss deepened, slow and tentative at first, as if we were both afraid of breaking the spell we were under. I felt my heart racing, every inch of my skin alive with sensation. He tasted like the memories of my youth—sweet, familiar, and filled with promise.

As we pulled away slightly, our foreheads resting against each other, I could see the questions dancing in his eyes, the uncertainty mingling with hope.

As we stood there, the worries of our past and the complexities of our present became distant echoes.

And all I could think of was maybe, just maybe, we could find our way back to each other again.

Jared walked outside, his voice made me almost jump, but Jensen still held me. "Jensen, we're leaving, man."

Jensen turned his face but kept looking at me.

"I'll be right there."

I let go of him, both our eyes filled with tears either of joy that we found each other again, or out of spite we had to let go again.

"Bye." I whispered.

"Bye."

--

Please like, share or comment when you liked the story. If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

Tag list:-> If you want to be added let me know what you like to read! If anyone feels like you're tagged too much, also let me know please. :)

@kr804573 @nancymcl @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @globetrotter28 @jackles010378

@hobby27 @winchesterwild78 @deans-baby-momma @soab1967

@livingdeadblondequeen @ladysparkles78 @yvonneeeee @whimsyfinny

[dronebiscuitbat]

Give me a Reason: Chapter 19 - "Best Freind"

N: U sure ur okay?

Uzi sighed as she crashed into her mattress, body feeling sore and head full of cotton balls. Tessa had just pulled out of the driveway and N was already texting her.

She wasn't sure when they'd actually become friends, maybe somewhere between ghost hunting and getting kicked in the gut she'd somehow made that connection. But she was absolutely not used to someone being this worried.

He'd incessantly asked what had happened for her to get so injured. And she'd incessantly deflected, either saying that it was nothing serious- which was bullshit, it hurt like hell. Or, at the cost of her ego- she lied and said it was an accident.

She just wasn't sure how he'd react to the truth, he'd probably be even more worried then, knowing that someone did this to her on purpose.

Or… he'd laugh at her. Because she was weak, because she'd put herself in a vulnerable position and then couldn't take a little pain an-

N: You can talk to me.

N: No pressure.

N: Just worried about you :(

The new messages stopped that train of thought. No. He wouldn't laugh. Even her chronic cynicism couldn't convince her of that.

Finally, instead of staring at his messages, she responded.

Uzi: Promise you won't say anything? Or laugh.

N: Promise

She sighed, here goes nothing…

Uzi: I got kicked in the stomach, u know how I seemed upset that I knew someone in my math class? It was them.

The reply actually took a minute to come back.

And that was because N had all of air knocked out of him at that reply. She'd been hit? Purposefully? And hard enough to give her a serious injury? Why? She was so nice! And cool!

N: Who?

Uzi: Lizzy, she's a teachers aid now, but she was in my class last year.

Uzi: It's not the first time she's thrown a punch, just caught me off gaurd this time.

Once again, N was floored, a teachers aid!?

N: I'd never laugh at you. But you should report her, she shouldn't be working with students if she thinks that's okay.

Uzi huffed through her nose, a half-laugh that was drenched in a depressing kind of acceptance.

Uzi: It's not like they'd believe me. I'm not exactly a model student.

She sat her phone down and shucked off her jacket and beanie, hissing as her side throbbed dully. This had been such a day…

Her hand instinctually reached for her stash drawer before she even realized, and in another, she was looking at it's false bottom.

As tempting as it was- and it was very tempting. Drug mixing wasn't smart even if one of them was just an over-the-counter pain reliever, and adding a bad trip on an already shitty day didn't sound fun.

So instead she wrapped herself in the biggest, comfiest shirt she could find and grabbed her laptop, maybe she could distract herself with YouTube.

N: What do you mean by that?

Oh right, she'd never mentioned the fact she'd been held back to him, whoops.

Uzi: I was held back a year. I'm 19.

N: Oh wow! You're older then me!

N: Still it can't have been that bad. Failing a class isn't a reason to not belive you.

Uzi smirked, fingers clicking on the keys of her laptop as she tried to find something to watch- settling on an analysis video of one of the shows she was watching.

Uzi: I was high in class and a teacher called the campus police.

It took nearly twenty minutes for him to respond to that.

N:Sorry, got home and had to get up to my room.

N:You were WHAT?!

N: That's a crime!

Uzi: And so is trespassing on JCJenson private property to ghost hunt.

N blushed, now laying on his bed in a grey pajama shirt and pants with dogs printed on them, he held his phone close to his face as he grumbled, she had him there, but that hadn't really felt like a crime at the time…

N: I think you're a bad influence.

N: Also you're deflecting, drugs are bad! And unhealthy!

Uzi rolled her eyes at that, he wasn't the first person to tell her that. But you know what was worse? Dealing with herself unmedicated, without her stash, her head just got fuzzier and fuzzier, and before she knew it… she'd be having a full mental meltdown at the slightest provocation. Which she hated, she never felt like herself during those…

Uzi: Probably. But you see why they won't believe me over miss perfect.

N: Yeah okay, now I'm gonna be worried tho. I don't want you being hurt.

She smiled at that, this boy was so endlessly empathetic, and thankfully, her unloading some not-so-great facts about herself didn't seem to put him off either.

Uzi: Ew, don't worry over me. That's gay.

And yet she couldn't help but make a joke over it.

N: ???

N: how?

N: how does my worry make me gay?

Uzi: It's not manly.

Uzi: Empathy is a girly emotion.

She was snickering to herself, she didn't actually believe that of course, but she could almost see his reaction to it. That stupid, confused and amused smile that he wore when she made a particularly dumb joke.

N: Guess I'm gay then.

N: Cause I'm always going to worry. You're my freind.

N:Best Freind?

Her heart fluttered full of butterflies at that. Is that what he wanted? From her? She was so convinced he'd find someone else to hang out with but here he was, asking to continue this…

Whatever this was.

Uzi: Always knew I'd end up with a gay best freind.

Uzi: u can't borrow my makeup.

N: Awww, but it would look so good on me!

Uzi thought about that for a moment, imagining N with dark eyeshadow, lipstick, and black nails, and she about choked, she wasn't sure if it was funny or weirdly attractive.

Uzi: Dude that mental image.

Uzi: It's so cursed, I about choked.

N: Blursed

N: It's Blessed and Cursed

The conversation continued, the fuzz in her head slowly dissipating even without the assistance of her stash, and it continued late into the night… up until she heard Khan pull onto the driveway at 2am.

Uzi: Oh god, it's 2am. We need to sleep.

N: I didn't realize! We're gonna be zombies…

Uzi: More of a zombie u mean?

N: Yeh. U still in pain? Are u going to sleep ohay?

N: Okay* oof, sleepy fingers.

Even while about to pass out. He was still worried…

Uzi: I'm okay, pain isn't bad. U need sleep N

N: Ok, text you tmmrow, Uzi. Goodnight.

Uzi: Night N.

[littlemisscantloveyouback]

Hii! I just found your works and I am IN LOVEEEE OMGGG 🫶🫶

I’m not too good at requesting these things, but could I ask for a Logan Howlett x short! AFAB reader?

I’m 4’11 and haven’t grown since sophomore year of high school, and everyone I know comments on it in every sort of way, and usually in a demeaning, teasing kind of way. (Like, going out of their way to make fun of me and stuff I can’t do, or how they can’t take me seriously). And no one listens to me when I tell them that it’s starting to hurt my feelings or be annoying lol

It can be a full fic or just a couple HC’s, up to you!!! Please take your time and don’t forget to take care of yourself 🫶

YES OFC I wish I got more asks bru

Anyway thank you

Tw ⚠ : short reader, afab reader, sexual tension, sexual talking, protective logan, masturbation (f),

You lay in you bed not wanting to go downstairs, logan had been gone for days on a mission for Xavier to find another mutant and she had to sub for Storm because because there both gone.

Logan was supposed to call you after class so you reluctantly got up got dressed and went downstairs to the classroom, you always hated leaving your room without Logan he was practically your bodyguard because of how some of the other girls treated you because of your hight you are 4'11 after all and they always told you she looked like a kid but when logan stepped in they left you alone.

There was even a time when you almost threw the girl into the fountain for bullying her but logan put a stop to it ever since then he always took a liking to you.

You made it to the classroom with no run-ins land waited for your students to show up for class you were teaching how to control your powers with mind, body and soul.

Storm is better then me with children

You thought to yourself as the kids started walking in, you waved at them as they took there seats and began your lesson.

After you were done you got a call from logan.

"Hey bub." He talked into the phone, you looked down at the floor wishing he was here instead.

"I'm really hungry,but the kids were fine," you walked back to your room. "And I miss you when will you be back?"

He looked around the hotel. "Me and the others should be back tomorrow afternoon." You laid in bed and looked at his side.

"I want you so bad loagn I wish you were here with me," he regretted taking this mission knowing it would be stressful for you. "Touching me, and telling me I'm yours." You moaned into the phone.

His pants tightened thinking of you laying on your bed waiting for him.

"Trust me honey I'll be there soon enough, now sit and be a good girl for me when I get back I love you." He hung up the phone after your goodbyes

And you sat there trying to fall asleep but after three hours you just gave up, you couldn't stop thinking about Logan and the way he would have gotten you to sleep, rubbing your back and your thighs.

I wonder what he would do to me right now ?

You thought to yourself as you rubbed your inner thigh, your hand had other plans when it started rubbing your clit thinking about him

You picked up your phone to call him and see if he's awake, turns out he was

"Logan." You moaned, he could here the wet sounds from the other end of the line.

"Y/n you need to go to bed, I can't talk there gonna here you." He quietly yelled at you.

"No please I need you now loagn I can't wait any longer." You mewled.

"Y/n please you need to wait So i can actually fuck you." Logan couldn't lie the thought of you playing with yourself was making him hard but he had to control himself or he was gonna wake up Storm.

Your orgasm was coming, and he knew it. "Baby, I want you inside me, please." You begged as you came over the phone.

He hated when you did this sometimes you always got what you wanted when you called him like this and he wasn't gonna just let you tease him he wants to touch you but your not here and he's gonna put a stop to it.

"Y/n stop calling me horny when you know I can't touch you like I want, your teasing me your gonne be the death of me." He hung up the phone.

You gasped not believing he just hung up the phone on you like that.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Ok how do we feel about me writing logan I love hugh jackman and I was waiting for something like this should I make a part two?

[deancasbigbang]

Title: Highly Unprofessional

Author: seidenapfel

Artist: Sasanka-27

Rating: Explicit

Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Length: 23000

Warnings: N/A

Tags: Professor Castiel, College Student Dean Winchester, Mutual Pining, Castiel is Jack Kline’s Parent, Dean Winchester Has Self-Worth Issues

Posting Date: November 4, 2024

Summary: On his first day of college, Dean feels like a fish out of water. After years of working his ass off with several jobs at once to fund his brother’s studies, his family and friends have decided to pay him back. That’s how he finds himself panicking in the lecture hall. Thankfully, a fellow student distracts him. She promptly becomes a good friend, and Dean has no idea how badly he will need her. The moment he lays eyes on his physics professor, Dean is lost. Castiel Novak seems like the man of his dreams. And when the professor’s son appears from under the podium, several lives take an unsuspected turn.

Excerpt: “Oh, fuck you,” Dean grouched, though he couldn’t help but grin. “No, thank you,” Charlie shot back without heat. “You’re not my type.” “Ouch.” Charlie chuckled, rolling her eyes. “As in, you're not a girl.” “Oh. Oh…” Taken aback, Dean was lost for words. Silently, he observed her in a new light. Of course, his reaction didn’t go unnoticed. Charlie sat up straight — or as straight as she could sit, given that she… Dean winced internally. Goddammit, Winchester! Get your shit together. A frown covered Charlie’s brow. “That a problem?” she asked coldly. “Uh… No?” Dean gulped as she glared at him, a hand on her bag, ready to leave. Finally, his main drive kicked back in. “Fuck, no. No, no, no. That’s… that’s awesome,” he stuttered, scratching the back of his head. The wary look on Charlie’s face was replaced by a broad smile, and Dean relaxed. “Saved by the bell, bitch.” Charlie nudged him. “And you got to know, there’s nothing wrong with working and saving up before being able to go to college. Actually, it’s kind of awesome that you’re here.” “That’s not—” Dean started to object, but then he shrugged. She didn’t need to hear his sorry life story. Instead, he offered his hand. “Dean.” “The dean? Head of the college? That at least explains your advanced age,” Charlie quipped, a twinkle in her eyes. “Oh, shuddup,” Dean muttered, earning him another chuckle. Before Charlie could answer, though, someone cleared their throat. The entire lecture hall fell silent at once, except for two idiots in the last row who were still wrestling on their seats. Somewhere, a girl laughed, but everyone else kept their mouths shut. And then, a voice pierced through the silence. “Gentlemen.” Goosebumps erupted all over Dean’s body at that sound and a shiver ran down his spine. That voice was doing things to him. Fuck! Slowly, he turned his eyes to its source and froze. There, behind the podium, stood the most breathtaking man Dean had ever laid eyes on. “Thank you for gracing us with your presence,” the man went on with a snide remark when the tumult stopped before addressing the crowd. “Good morning. Now that we can finally start, I’m really impressed how many of you joined me this term. A physicist talking about comparative religion and science is not everyone’s cup of tea. But keep in mind that many of our predecessors studied both. Back in the day when scientists didn’t have to specialise.” He paused. “Even though I have to admit, the cryptid part in the class’ description might have sold it…” The lecture hall erupted in laughter and Dean was too mesmerised to look away. Hanging on the professor’s lips, he was hooked, especially after he got a name a moment later. Castiel Novak was not what Dean had expected. Whatever Sam had told him about college whenever Dean hadn’t tuned him out — nothing could have prepared him for the lecture he was just experiencing.

DCBB 2024 Posting Schedule

[thatwritterbeach]

One messed up bat pt.2

Dc masterlist all other parts found here

Batfam x reader Jason Todd x reader

Summary: the batfam's approach to Y/n self harming, Bruce is a meanie, and neglectful meanie

warnings: Angst, self harm (active), self hate, depression, anxiety, eating disorder,mentions of alcohol and drugs but not use of either, sexual assault mention, non-con mention, joker has bad touched y/n, puke, purging,

I do not own dc, kinda short sorry. Full bruce hate, I never forgave him for not killing the joker, among other things

Bruce, Dick, Tim, and Damian all sat around her while Alfred poured tea. Her leg was bouncing and her fingers were tapping on her knees.

"Somebody gonna fill me in," Bruce asked into the silence.

"I second that," Jason said.

"Well, we are here to support-" Tim started to say before Damian cut in.

"Y/n was cutting herself and you have to fix it," he said from his spot next to her. He latched himself onto her arm and rolled her sleeve up to show off the bandage.

"Y/n," Bruce said softly, running a hand down his face in exhaustion. He's too tired to put up with you.

"Why," Jason asked moving to sit next to her and grab her other hand. Tim was sitting on the back of the couch behind her, Dick was perched on the arm next to Damian and Bruce was across from her in an arm chair.

"I'm in a family of superheros that spends more time looking after strangers than they do their own people."

"Y/n," Dick said on a sigh.

"It's our job," Bruce said. Like that excused all the neglect.

"If you're just gonna undermine everything I say and bring up 'the mission' as an excuse for everything there's no point in having this conversation cuz it's just gonna make things worse," she seethed glaring at Bruce.

"No more work talk, just tell us about you," Dick said.

"Damian go help Alfred with dinner."

"But-"

"Go." He rolled his eyes but stomped out of the room.

"I've been cutting since Jason died-"

"Shit," Tim interrupted quietly.

"Burning too when I feel like it. Definitely have an eating disorder, depression goes without saying. All forms of anxiety, panic attacks, anxiety attacks, hmmm," she paused in mock thought looking to the ceiling for answers.

"What do you mean burning," Jason asked before she could continue.

"I use a lighter to heat up a blade, or something else metal and hold it to my skin. Just 1st and second degree, enough to blister. I prefer burning because the pain lasts longer," she explained casually. Stop talking you idiot!

"Y/n," Dick muttered, so sadly the guilt crept up her throat.

"How else do you hurt yourself," Bruce asked sliding her tea closer to her, like that helped.

"I think that's it, don't know I've done shit for so long I don't even think anymore. I blink and there's a few new cuts I don't remember making." Stop talking!

"Oh my god," Tim whispered.

"You black out? Do you drink," Jason accused, unwilling to ask about drugs.

"Nope, never touch the stuff." Where her hands shaking or was she imagining that? Didn't matter Jason's warm and rough hand enveloped both of hers to stop them. Are your eyes meant to get fuzzy when your crush touches you?

"What can we do to help, what do you need from us," Bruce asked eyeing their hands with a touch of unease?

"Oh, now you care. What fifteen, twenty kids later you care? I don't need or want anything from you, actually, no, what I want is my damn job back." Is your heart supposed to be at 150 BPM?

"Sweets, I can feel your heart through your finger tips."

"I'm fine, my heart rate's always a bit fast." But she was starting to sweat.

"Are you having any other systems, how often do you have anxiety attacks," Dicks asked sitting beside her to hold two fingers to her pulse and count.

"Once a week, once every two weeks, I don't know, why?"

"Do you feel like you're going into one?"

She took a deep breath and did a mental self-assessment. Fast heart, sweat, shaky hands, but clear thoughts.

"I don't-I don't...it doesn't feel like it? Maybe just heightened anxiety, I don't know, I feel more anger than anxiety," she told him smacking his hand away when he tried to check for a fever.

"Does your heart rate usually get to 160 when you're mad," Dick asked.

"Sounds right, I have anger issues." Jason snorted out a laugh.

"Welcome to the club kid." His hand moved to tug on her hair then dropped to her neck to rub circles with his thumb.

"When you call me kid it makes me feel small and useless," she told him with soft smile.

"Shit, sorry."

"I cal you kid, like ninety percent of the time," Dick panicked.

"Chill big bird, it's not gonna drive me to a cliff."

"You're not going back to work."

"Wayta' read the room, Bruce," Tim chastised dramatically draping himself over the back of the couch.

"Careful, Tim your fruit is showing," Y/n said, laughing at her own joke. ( Tim is bi in this)

"His what," Jason whisper yelled whipping his head around to check his brother fly. Dick who was 'hip' to the kids slang these days just laughed and high fived her.

"What's fruit then?"

"When someone is gay you call them fruity," she explained gesturing to Tim's totally not straight pose.

"Oh, got it. Wait a damn minute, that's what you meant when you called me a mango nerd the other day."

"Dude you said and I quote 'you can't wear that spring outfit with that fall purse you heathen' with a hand on your hip."

"It was for a benefit ball, I was trying to help you, you fashionably challenged fool."

"Get a room," Tim complained throwing a hand over his eyes like even watching them was painful.

"Was it that peach dress with the blue clutch," Dick asked, of course, he hadn't attended but he saw the papers and news.

"Sorry, I thought I was the girl in this family, let me just turn my closet over to you-"

"Can we get back to your issues," Bruce interrupted, freaking buzzkill.

"Sorry, was my bonding time with brothers I haven't seen together in over a month cutting into your plans. Are you trying to wrap this up so you can put on your Halloween costume and go beat up poor people. Sorry my depression is such an inconvenience for you. Don't worry, me slicing into my own flesh can take a backseat to your useless and selfish vendetta.-"

"That's enough, I do care-"

"Really! Did you care when your second robin got murdered and you couldn't be bothered to stop his killer, did you care when you forced me into that suit and took me out with basically no training? Did you care when the man you refused to kill took me hostage, when the devil you clearly love sank his claws into my innocent skin? Did you even ask when I came back to the cave with blood running down my legs-" Her jaw might have popped from the grinding of her teeth if Dick and Jason hadn't cut her off.

"What the actually fuck, Bruce!" Jason.

"What the hell!" Dick.

"I didn't know," Bruce said hanging his head and shoving his fingers into his hair.

"You didn't fucking ask. Why the hell else would I have come back looking the way I did, did you even notice I was gone?"

"I-"

"I don't care," she interrupted with an eye roll, shaking the boys off her to try and leave the room. Tim was faster and blocked her path but she knew he would cave, they would all give her alone time after the bombshell she'd just dropped. She tried not to smirk when Bruce moved to follow her and both Dick and Jason stood in his way.

"So not only did you fail to stop a kid from being murdered, you failed to tell me he was even dead until after his funeral, and you failed to protect her."

"I hate you," Jason said and they all knew he meant it. The guilt was back, clawing at her insides and making bile rise to her throat. They'd been mending their relationship and she just turned Jason on Bruce without thinking.

"I'm sorry," he tried.

"We don't care," Tim spoke for all of them stepping aside to let her through. She hurried to leave before they changed their mind but stopped short with a soft 'shit' when she nearly ran into Damian.

"You heard it all didn't you?"

"Father's an idiot."

"I'm sorry you had to hear that."

"Tt, I'm sorry you had to go through that, my beloved." (he calls her that cuz she's his favorite and acts almost as a mother figure)

"You mind telling Alfred not to set my place?"

"Of course."

Thank God, he didn't insist on following her. With a quick hug and hair ruffle she sent him off and nearly sprinted to her room, her trained feet not making a sound on the polished wood. They hadn't taken any of her blades yet so she had her pick for one last hurrah before they found her. With what could only be described as a quiet evil laugh she selected a simple pocket knife and skipped to her en suit locking the door behind her. her shorts were off in a flash and she had four quick and clean cuts in no time, the sting was ok but not enough to ease the guilt from blabbing her big mouth so she did a few more. The feeling didn't ease and her chest only got tighter in panic of being found so she cleaned and bandaged them then sank to her knees in front of the toilet. Pressing on her stomach right where her ribs met she was able to bring up her food without shoving her fingers down her throat. When nothing but foam came up and her eyes stung from tears she rose to clean up.

"Y/n, you have two second before I kick in the door," Jason warned. Well shit.

9-24-24

[jewish-vents]

i’m a teacher and i had a kid draw a swastika in my classroom on like. the second day of school. so one of our admin came in to two of my classes the next day to talk about it. and she started by telling this story about how she had a hijabi student. and a boy in the class was “really curious about what her hair looked like.” and had the students guess what happened next (pulled the hijab off, gross and awful) and how that might have made the hijabi student feel. at this point i’m sitting at my desk like “it’s been five minutes are we going to talk about the swastika” and then she finally goes “yesterday someone drew a symbol that represents division. and hate. and those aren’t things we stand for” and a kid (of course) was like what was it? and this fucking woman turns to me and goes “are you comfortable sharing what it was?”

?????? i thought that’s why you were here?? i thought you were here to explain why swastikas are not okay, and we are seven minutes into your little presentation and you haven’t said the word swastika or even jewish. so i said it was a swastika and several of the kids didn’t know what that was. which was disturbing on its own as i teach middle school but i digress. i said no way in hell am i drawing one so my admin looks at me and is like “could you google a picture?”

can’t believe i did this but i didn’t know what else to do in the moment so i pulled up a google image search of swastikas and projected it on the board. at no point did the admin say “hey you can take that down now” it just sat up there until i got uncomfortable and sick to my stomach enough to close it myself. and then she came back the next period and did the WHOLE song and dance again (no jewish, no antisemitism, not even the word NAZI which is insane to me) and STILL told the opening story about the hijabi girl even with two hijabi girls sitting in the class this time who were clearly uncomfortable.

this was like three weeks ago and it’s been quietly bothering me for a while and i finally told my (nonjewish) work friends about it and they were all like “holy shit that’s so fucked that she asked you to do that” and i told my (jewish) partner and he went “she couldn’t have picked up a fucking marker??” and that was when it really hit me.

maybe she didn’t want to be in a situation where she drew a swastika on a jewish teachers whiteboard. ok. but she apparently didn’t consider the WORSE implications of asking that same jewish teacher to google an image of a swastika and project a google image search of a page FULL of swastikas on her board.

AND she never once checked in with me after that. she left the class without talking to me again and hasn’t said a word about it since. i remember i even asked her “do you want me to leave the room” beforehand because im thinking i don’t want to have to look at swastikas but she asked me to stay because “the impact is real and they need to see it” which. uh. i’ve been pushing this experience down for weeks bc at the end of the day it “wasn’t that bad” but like. holy shit. she really wanted to put my trauma on display for the students instead of just asking me to leave and explaining what a swastika is/showing them one. and it took her nearly ten minutes to get to the actual swastika!! i’m just. so done

.

[http-paprika]

There Was Something Here Once and it lingers in the air

small town au / call of duty x female reader / taglist open / wc 2030 / warnings light swearing / no use of y/n / ship not yet decided / no beta, my grammarly hates me

making a place for herself in aberdeen is not without its struggles, and not without more problems.

She tugged at her light cardigan, glancing over at the fan that sat in the corner of the diner and questioning why they even needed it with how cold it was outside. A blank document sits open on the screen of her laptop, a promise to try to write daily failing miserably as she spent her lunch break away from the small public library. The waitress walks up, refilling her cup of coffee again and glancing at the club sandwich that’d gone untouched before hurrying away to attend to the other patrons. Mostly loggers finishing a shift and grabbing a bite, all dressed in worn down workwear, a contrast to the suits and ties she used to see on her lunch breaks before. 

In the corner of the diner, the doorbell rings as a new customer walks in. She glances down at her keyboard again, willing her hands to move. Hadn’t she been dreaming, talking, and wanting to write this novel since she was a girl? How many years in the making had she been plotting it up through tedious university lectures just for the actual act to be daunting, intimidating her with the idea of failing. 

“Oh, hello again.” The steady voice of the tow truck driver lilts through her ears, she perks her head up to look at Johnny. He’s still in his blue coveralls, but there’s a new, noticeable oil stain on the front pocket. “Never seen you in here before, mind if I join ya?”

“No, yes. I’m sorry, I’m just all over the place today.” She sighs at the admittance as Johnny sits down across from her in the booth. He grins at the waitress when she brings by a menu, greeting him by name. In a small town like this, she was sure it wouldn’t be long before everyone knew her name, and she theirs. Though, names had never been a strong suite of hers. 

“Yeah? What are ya doing on there?” He asks, nodding to her laptop and her face burns in embarrassment. She did not like to talk about her writing, there was something so private about it that opening up was like if she were to be completely exposed in the diner. Mortifying. 

“Work.” 

“Work?” 

“Yeah.” She nods in seriousness, trying to convince him that’s what it is. But Johnny doesn’t look convinced, a grin on his face as he smiles. 

“That’s the same excuse I tell John when I’m sitting on my ass.” He winks at her and that burning from earlier reappears. “Don’t worry, I won’t keep asking. If it’s private, it’s private. But, I am curious, what does a librarian exactly do? It can’t all just be checking in and out books, can it?”

“Well, um,” She blinks, trying to collect herself and find the right answer for her lunch partner. “Stuff.” 

“Stuff?” 

She nods at Johnny, swallowing the realization of how pitiful she is in conversations. Always had been since she was a girl, it made her and her father alike. Much to the disappointment of her mother. 

“I’ll have to come visit soon then and see you do… stuff.” Johnny decides with a boldness in his voice. And when the waitress comes to take his order, she realizes that that’s the way Johnny is. Bold, proud, and bright like the sun. It’s a wonder he chose to stay in this town, should he have spread his wings out anywhere else, he would’ve been a star. 

“Okay.” She says, her voice sheepish and low. A glance at her watch causes panic to hitch as she realizes her lunch break is about to end and she needs to hurry back. “I’m sorry, I hate to be poor company but I have to go.” Fishing through her tote, she sets down enough money for her meal and coffee. She takes another swig of the caffeinated beverage before shoving her laptop back into the bag.

“Don’t worry about it, you do what you need to do.” He assures her with another warm smile, she nods back slowly before the panic hits again, the bell in the nearby church steeple ringing loudly to signal the changing of the hour. 

Out of the diner, across the little square that marks the downtown of Aberdeen, her loafers dig into the muddy grass. Her breath comes out into little huffs as she hurries back into the tiny public library. The door whines on its hinges from the force she applies to yanking it open. She winced in fear that it would fall right off, but it slams behind her causing her to jump out of her skin. Claire, her older coworker, sits at the circulation desk and quirks a brow up at her, the thin-rimmed glasses she always wore perched on her pointed face. There was a similarity to a crow that she couldn’t strike down, the way Claire was always watching from those beady, black eyes left her uneasy. 

“Sorry.” She mutters, bowing her head whilst walking behind the circulation desk to her tiny cubby. It wasn’t much smaller than the one she’d had before, one little plant dying in a plastic pot, the postcard Beau had sent her, and one of those cheese motivational cat posters that a coworker from her last job had given her when she left. There’d never been much to her name, she didn’t have much growing up and never felt the need to want more than she needed. So, besides the boxes of books waiting to be unpacked in her cottage, clutter wasn’t something she acquired. 

“Enjoy your lunch?” Claire asks, walking up to her desk with a box of books from a different library in the same system. It settles on her desk with a thud, and she can feel the heaviness in Claire’s gaze. Her punctuality when it came to time today was not the greatest, first with the car slowing her down and now this. 

“Yes, sorry I was running behind. Today’s just one of those days.” She sheepishly responds, hoping Claire could spare a sliver of sympathy towards her. Hasn't she ever run late before? 

“Mmm.” The elderly woman draws her mouth into a thin line, her hands resting on her bony hips. “Those are the interlibrary loans, they need to be sorted.” 

“Of course. I’ll get to those right away.” She nods, hoping the old crow would leave her alone. 

After giving her a dirty look for long enough, the door to the library opens again and Claire’s attention is quickly drawn away to greet the patron. Grumbling, she opened the box, sifting through the different books. A stack was quickly formed for one patron, and an appreciation formed for someone she didn’t even know. Whoever they were, she was certain that they were responsible for keeping the tiny library open. 

She glances up from the assortment of books, looking over at the circulation desk where Claire was helping a young mother check out various picture books. From the few days she’d worked, the conclusion had been drawn up that only the elderly or young mothers stepped foot inside the stuffy building. She’d yet to see anyone that fit the description of loggers and frowned, they were a key demographic in Aberdeen but couldn’t be bothered to read. Back in the city, she’d done so many outreach programs to try and engage with members of the community that weren’t represented in the library. Perhaps that needed to be done here. 

“Claire?” She asks gingerly, stepping up to the circulation desk once the patron has left. 

Claire glances up at her, carefully pulling off the wired glasses and cleaning them up. “Can I help you?” 

“Well, I was just curious about our patrons.” She wished Rosemary or Clint, the other two people who held positions at this branch, were there for her to speak with. But they were out doing god knows what, and the question continued to persist in her mind. A determination to fix a situation had always been one of the few things she stood out for. 

“What about our patrons?” Claire sets the glasses back on the bridge of her thin nose, evidently not interested in whatever tangent she was about to embark on. 

“Do the loggers not come in very often? I’ve only ever seen one or two.” She says, voicing her thoughts. “Should there not be something done to try and bring more of them in?” 

“That’s not for you to worry about.” The response is sharp, almost painful with how Claire says it. Like somehow she’d suggested a foolish idea, one that would’ve been better never said aloud. “That’s Clint’s job. Focus on your work.” 

Dejected, she nods and returns to her desk, trying hard not to look over at Claire again. The crow had only grown meaner with any interaction she tried to strike up. What she’d done to deserve the reaction was outside of her knowledge. After all, she was a competent enough librarian if nothing else. 

“Do you ever visit the library on your own?” She asks Johnny, sitting in the small office of the auto shop to finally speak with John about her car. A poor attempt to keep herself from worrying about the state of the vehicle, she needed a running one. 

A flush of embarrassment crosses Johnny’s face and thinking back to the conversation they’d briefly had in the diner, the answer is clear. “No, uh, not since I was younger. I’m usually not downtown, don’t even think about it and definitely don’t read as much as I should.” 

She nods, not passing judgment towards his words. It was understandable, so many people tended to neglect the library, not even considering the public service. 

“What would change that?” 

Chewing the inside of her cheek, she tilts her head to watch as he thinks. Johnny fumbles with his hands, trying to decide on an answer that isn’t seen as offensive. She’d asked the question to hundreds of different people in an attempt to connect with the community. No one ever seemed to be able to give her a satisfying answer for change. 

“Well, to put it simply, the car’s fucked.” John states, stepping into the office and running a hand over his mutton chop beard. A hard day of work is visible in his stance, he slouches against the desk as he takes the time to explain the issues the car had. In his words, he was supposed it had run as long as it had with all the underlying issues she’d failed to notice in her haste to pack up and move on. “Probably be cheaper to look at selling it for parts and buying a new, well, used one.” 

She slumps in her chair, trying hard not to bury her face in her hands. Cars were expensive, even used cars. Moving wasn’t cheap either, she’d already spent what little money her grandmother had left her to help with the house note. Where was she going to scrape together the money for any sort of running car? 

“Hey, it’ll be alright,” Johnny tries to console her, putting a hand on her back as she drops her head. “I’m sure something will come around, right John?” 

The older man doesn’t say anything, lost in thought as she mutters to herself over financial stress. Wasn’t moving to Aberdeen supposed to make her life easier? Small town living sounded so idyllic until reality sinks in, problems hit. At least in the city, she had access to buses, even if they weren’t the cleanest and meant waking up much earlier than she would’ve liked to get to work on time. Here, she was reliant on whatever goodwill the people of Aberdeen had. And she wasn’t expecting much more after the grace shown to her that morning. 

“Right, John?” Johnny asks again, looking at his boss with annoyance. 

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” John continues to run his hand over his beard, clearly absent from the conversation at hand. His behavior causes her to finally sit back up and blink, confused as to what exactly was happening. “There might be someone I know who could help your situation.”

[frankenkyle19]

I’ve Always Been Right Here

this is a little fic I wrote about Peter and Erik actually discussing everything because the movies suck and never let us see them have any sort of father/son relationship :(. I’ve been obsessed with dadneto lately so like obviously I had to write this. And sad Peter :( but it’s okay because it’s a happy ending! This takes place after Apocalypse where Erik ended up staying or whatever idk :/ the x-men timeline scares me and I try not to think too much about it. Enjoy!

word count: 1.7k words

Charles had been pushing both parties involved to talk about it. Little encouragements here and there because unbeknownst to Peter, Erik did know that he was his child. Had found out a while ago from Charles himself and decided not to say anything. He had good reasoning but was sure Peter wouldn’t see reason in anything once he found out he knew and hadn’t come to talk to him about it. The poor kid was just as stubborn as he was. 

Charles kept pushing the two of them together. Probably thought he was being helpful but really he was not. The atmosphere between them was always tense, the both of them walking on eggshells around the other, careful with what they said. It was awful for both of them. All the other X-men noticed it too. 

Finally one night after dinner at the mansion Peter had had enough. Him and Erik were the last two at the table to clean up and he thought about it all for a moment before it just became too much and he picked up his plate, slamming it down so hard against the wood that it broke in his hands.

“I’m your son! There, dammit I said it! I’m your fucking son. Remember now? Leaving my mom while she was pregnant because you were so scared to have a family. You left her to figure it all out on her own! And where were you when I needed to learn how to ride a bike or throw a football?! You weren’t there! You’re my father and you’ve…” Peter’s voice broke as he blinked rapidly, trying his hardest to avoid tears as years of anger and resentment flew from his mouth without any warning. 

“You’re telling me you didn’t know? When I broke you out of the Pentagon you just…” He trailed off, shaking his head as he paced back and forth. He had half a mind to punch the stupid son of a bitch right in the face, but he didn’t.

“You never wanted to find me? Weren’t interested in seeing how your kid turned out? Well here I am. HERE I AM!. I was waiting to see how long it would take you to notice but I guess I gave up.”

Silence fell between the two of them, both refusing to look at each other. 

“Peter…” Erik started, trying to de-escalate the situation which was almost comical. He’d never been the level headed one before. 

“I don’t expect you to understand.. My life… I have been through hell. I was trying to spare you from it all. And selfishly.. I was scared.” He admitted, finally looking at Peter now, who was shaking with barely restrained anger.

“I was scared because I didn’t know what to do with a child..” 

“Well you could have figured it out. I don’t want to hear excuses, that’s not… Not going to fix things now. I’m not even sure if things can be fixed. Y’know, I remember seeing you on the news after I broke you out of prison. Something clicked in my mind that you were my dad. I’m surprised it took me as long as I did but I’ve never been known to be the smartest.. My mom told me I should be afraid of you but I told her I wasn’t.. I’m not afraid of you.”

Erik looked at him befuddled for a moment before he shook his head, deciding to sit back down in his chair. This conversation was probably going to be a long one.

“I don’t want you to be scared, Peter. I’ve never wanted you to be scared. I.. I truthfully don’t have an excuse for what I did to you and to your mother. I am sorry.”

Peter must not have been expecting him to apologize so easily because he looked at him in shock, hands shaking around the broken pieces of plate he still held, eyes welling with tears. Shakily he sat down in his seat at the table, setting the pieces of the plate down before he clenched his fists, hard. Dammit! He didn’t want to cry..

“I’m here now, Peter. And I’ll explain it all to you if you want. Any questions you have, I’ll answer them.”

“When did you know? When did you know I was your son?” Peter asked, sniffling softly as he wiped the tears from his eyes before they had the chance to fall. 

“Charles informed me. Well… He confirmed it. I’d had my suspicions since Apocalypse. The way you looked at me… I realized it then but I didn’t want to accept it. Especially not in that moment.”

Peter took a deep breath before nodding. Right now Erik was an open book and was going to answer any of his questions so now was the time. 

“Am I the only one? Kid of yours I mean.. Do I have any siblings I don’t know about? I’ve got my little sis but like.. I dunno it was a dumb question-“

“Nina.” Erik said, a sad look coming over his face. He didn’t look at Peter now, instead he looked at the broken pieces of the plate in front of him. His boy. 

“She was your little sister. She was- Everything to me. My whole world.”

Peter perked up for a moment before the tone of Erik’s voice and the look in his eyes had him expecting the worst. An uneasiness took hold in his stomach now, churning. He felt like he knew what Erik was going to say but he didn’t want him to say it. It would hurt him worse then he’d expect it to.

“She was killed. By humans..” anger rose up in Erik’s voice now as he spoke. He was still so bitter to the humans because they’d caused him nothing but suffering. He recalled that grim day in the woods. How eerily silent it all fell after the fact. The blood on his hands.. It was the worst day of Erik’s entire life and he’d lived through a lot of unimaginable things.

Peter swallowed thickly, zoning out when it was confirmed. He’d had another sister and he’d never gotten to meet her. And now.. she was gone. How weird it was to grieve someone you’ve never met and never would get to. She had still been part of Peter. They’d shared a father after all.

“I-“ Peter started until he felt his voice waver in the back of his throat, eyes burning as he cast his gaze back down to the broken plate. Everything was broken.. Not just the plate, he thought.

He didn’t want to ask how. Knowing she’d been killed was enough. Maybe one day in the future he’d ask for more but neither man was ready for that conversation yet.

Erik moved to pull something out of his pocket, showing Peter the small necklace with a little locket. 

“This is the only thing I have left. They’ve taken everything from me. Everyone I’ve loved.”

Peter’s heart was crushed at the words because… he was sitting right there! He’d always been right here.. Right in front of Erik’s face.. Did he not love him? Did he care at all for him in any sort of way? 

“… I’m right here. I’ve always been right here.. You know how many nights I laid awake crying because I thought I wasn’t good enough for you? Every time me and mom passed a man on the street I’d wonder. Wonder if maybe one of them was you. I wondered why as a child my father didn’t love me enough to stay.”

The words stung. They hurt Erik but Peter was far too lost in his emotions to try and hold anything back now. He’d say what he meant, after all he’d been waiting over two decades to say it. 

“Peter please…”

“No!” He yelled, slamming his fists on the table again, just barely avoiding the pieces of the plate. He moved away from the table now, standing in the middle of the dining room as he glared at Erik. “No! You can’t tell me what to do and you can’t tell me to stop. You ruined my life!! You ruined my life by not being in it!” Peter’s tears fell heavy now. The weight of the past two decades washed over him in waves. A choked sob clawed its way up his throat and he tried hard to not let it out but it did. All of his brokenness was on display. He wasn’t just the weird silver haired speedster who cracked jokes at the most inconvenient times. He was a person with real feelings, many of them ugly.

He pawed at his eyes with the palms of his hands, an angry sigh slipping from his lips. He’d been so focused on not letting Erik see him like this, faced away from him that he also hadn’t noticed that he’d gotten up from his chair and made his way over to him. 

Peter flinched when Erik wrapped his arms around him and cradled his head to his chest. He felt sick because fuck he’d needed this hug for years now. Something he’d never thought he’d get, here it was. 

He tensed for just a moment before he hugged back, practically clutching onto Erik’s shirt as he cried into his chest. Cried into his father’s chest. His dad. This was his dad.. It had all hit him and he was spiraling.

Erik held him through the tears, the quiet sobs that wracked his whole body. He held him through it, still in disbelief that this was the first time he’d held him. He never got to hold him as a baby, never got to watch him grow up. In so many ways he’d failed him. Never again. 

He pressed his face into his silver hair, letting out a shaky exhale. “I’m here now Peter. I promise. I’m going to be here for you from here on out.”

It went on like that for longer than either of them cared to count until eventually Peter pulled away shakily, letting out a half hearted laugh at how wet Erik’s shirt had become after soaking up all of his tears.

Their eyes met, Peter’s brow furrowed in such a similar way to Erik’s that for the first time it was so obvious that they were related.

Erik reached out and patted Peter’s shoulder gently, giving it a squeeze before letting go.

“It’s late, you should head to bed, kiddo.” 

“I know.” Peter zipped around the room, cleaning up the mess he’d made before he stopped in the doorway, glancing back at Erik.

“Hey-“

“Yes?”

“Goodnight, Dad.”

“Goodnight, son.”

[changingplumbob]

Foster Household: Chapter 9, Part 9

CW: Mental Health Struggles - Guide to content warnings

Even Sulani was not immune from rain. Carson got out of bed at the cry of his alarm and headed to his bathroom. He liked that there was more space, and it had a nice view even with the downpour, but it didn’t make having to shave before school any easier. When he was clean and dressed and finished breakfast he decided to call his older sister, just to check about sharks.

Carson: I know it’s early but can you please tell me if sharks can break through my floor

Marta: Hola Carson, Keira is in the shower

Carson: Oh, sorry, I didn't even think about you answering her phone

Marta: It’s bueno. She told me on honeymoon sharks are pretty safe. Most attacks are from thinking a human is a fish. They will not break through your floor

Carson: Are you sure

Marta: Si, I promise. She said from underneath surfboards look like seals *laughs* isn’t that cute? But your house will not look like a big seal

Kayleigh had the day off and spent it doing what she loved most, painting! After finishing a particularly excellent painting she got a call from her regular gallery. News around the town was that Kayleigh Foster was now a global superstar! They hoped she would remember them in her future works and they had recommended her for a star of fame in Del Sol Valley! Once she got a call from the council she couldn’t contain her excitement and called around her family to let them know.

Charlie: You’re really going to get a star?

Kayleigh: That’s the rumor. You’ll all come right? I couldn’t have done it without my family. And after maybe everyone can stay for a couple of days, this house has enough room

Charlie: Of course but don’t you want to celebrate like... without your kids

Kayleigh: Your dad suggested a dinner party for my friends tonight which will be nice. He’s going to ring around on his afternoon break

When Carson got home he congratulated his mum and sat down to do his homework where he could talk to her and his eldest sister.

Carson: So everyone will be invited to stay? Even Reece?

Kayleigh: *sighs* You’ll be at school a lot of the time, don’t worry about Reece

Charlie: Besides, he’s less snarky with you when Samir is around. It’s like he tries to be well behaved or something

Carson: Charlie you know he tried convincing me Samir is a werewolf! As if I'd fall for that

Kayleigh: Actually that is true

Charlie: Mum... have you been inhaling the paint fumes for to long?

Kayleigh: No! Samir told me. Your dad and I have discussed it at length. It’s strange but true

Charlie: When were you going to tell us?

Kayleigh: I wasn’t but clearly Reece doesn’t mind you knowing

Carson: Great, another thing he can make fun of me for not knowing

Kayleigh: I know you two fight but he loves you really

Charlie: Have you told him about the OCD yet

Carson: No. Do you think I should?

Kayleigh: It’s always your choice darling

Carson: Maybe. I’ll think about it since he’s willing to open up about Samir

Kayleigh: Do you want to invite some friends over? Me and your dad will be out here with our guests so the living room will be empty

Carson: Yeah I’ll see if the guys and Onyx are free, thanks Mum

Charlie: Mum that picture is gorgeous, is that Ariel? Can I have it? Please please please

Kayleigh: *laughs* Okay firstborn, it’s yours

Charlie: YES

Harvey greeted the guests as they arrived to celebrate his wife. Most of them were from back when they lived in Willow Creek but Kayleigh had also asked him to invite two he’d never met before, Suzanna and Adam Kightstone.

Harvey: Nice to meet you. I’m glad you could make the trip from Chestnut Ridge

Suzanna: Of course! She deserves a celebration

Adam: Oh wow, look at all her art! This is so much more than the gallery pieces

Harvey: Yes if she paints masterpieces she likes to keep them at home

Kayleigh: Food everyone! We’ve made a gorgeous salad for starters

Suzanna: Now remember we’re here for my friend, not to fly off the handle if the food isn’t right

Adam: Alexander is the food critic, I just do art

Suzanna: Adam I’m serious. She’s never judged us for being aliens, it’s important

Adam: Don’t worry starlight, I can keep a level head for a night for you. Let’s go see what humans choose to put in their salads, how many fruits do you think we'll find?

Bob: You must be proud

Harvey: Oh I am! How a fisherman like me managed to catch her I’ve no idea. Anyway we’ll be celebrating your success soon. Bob is a chef see

Adam: Oh yes I’ve read the reviews, everyone seems to love your food. Any plans of opening your own place?

Bob: Eventually but I know Eliza would like me to have a stable well paying job for a while first, especially now we have Tiana. She’s our youngest, we adopted her

Suzanna: I would have loved a girl but we have two boys

Bob: Well just wait until they grow up, Onyx surprised me, and Aaron's Artemisia. You may have a daughter under your roof and just not know it yet

Calista: If Emisia ever crosses a line just tell us and we’ll talk to her about her manners

Kayleigh: From what I can tell Carson isn’t too bothered by her. He was a bit stressed after prom but I think he has girl on the brain for now

Aaron: It’s a relief there’s some kids that are unbothered

Eliza: Fergus is also unbothered worse luck

Aaron: I know you think Emisia is a bad influence but-

Eliza: Oh they have always been thick as thieves. I don’t think I could pry their friendship apart with a crowbar. It helps that she has a lawyer for a dad though, hopefully that'll stop them getting up to anything illegal

Previous ... Next

[sugdenlovesdingle]

I FINALLY DID IT!

I finished my pride fic! With an hour to go until the episode airs!

@flufftober 2023 Day 27: outdoor event

Austin Pride (AO3)

Owen and Gabriel go to pride with their sons

---

“Have you ever been to one of these? With TK?” Gabriel asked, tapping the ad in the paper open on Owen's kitchen table.

“Been to what? A camping supplies store?” Owen joked, turning the paper around to see what Gabriel meant. “Oh, that. Yeah, a few times. Back in New York. Never here though. I didn't actually know there was one.”

Gabriel nodded.

“Have the boys said anything... to you... about... going?”

“No, no I don't think so... although...” Owen trailed off, grabbing his phone and unlocking it and scrolling through his work calendar. “TK did schedule time off work that weekend. So my guess is that they're going.”

Gabriel nodded again.

“Are you... thinking of going too?” Owen asked. “Have you ever been?”

“No. When I was young... well... I don't think there was ever one where I grew up. And by the time I ended up in the big city... It's just never been on my radar.”

“Not even when Carlos or your girls were growing up?"

Gabriel snorted and took a swig of his drink. Andrea would have his head if she knew he was day drinking with Owen and not at his PT appointment.

“You know the mess we made of things with Carlos. So no, I've never been. Not with Carlos, not by myself.”

“But you're thinking of changing that?” Owen guessed.

“Well... it's definitely been on my mind more lately.” Gabriel admitted. “But I'm not sure it's my place.”

“Why not? Everyone is welcome at these things. That's kind of the whole point of them.” Owen chuckled. “The first time Gwyn and I went with TK was when he was 15 or 16. I don't know which one of us was more nervous.”

“What was it like?”

“Loud. Colourful. Lots of happy people. Everyone was in a party mood. We had fun. Even more so the second year when we actually marched. And a drag queen called me a DILF.”

“A what?” Gabriel asked, confused.

“DILF. It’s an acronym.”

“For…?”

“Dad I’d like to…” Owen raised an eyebrow and sipped his drink. “You know.”

“Dad I’d like to what?”

“You know… get freaky with...”

“What? Oh! I… should have known what that F stood for.”

Owen shrugged.

“I didn’t. I looked it up when I got home.” He laughed. “TK told me to never mention it out loud to anyone ever again.”

Gabriel nodded and tried to imagine having such memories with Carlos.

“But apart from that… what is it like? One of those parades.”

“Well in New York there were a lot of advocacy groups marching. And it was quite political. But there were also a lot of people marching because they just… wanted to. Celebrating who they are, who they love.” Owen said and laughed. “You should have seen TK’s face when this guy from a gay health clinic gave him free condoms and lube. And then turned to me and gave me some too because “sexual health is important no matter your age.” He said using air quotes. “TK was 17 I think. He refused to look at me the rest of the day. I slipped the condoms and lube in his backpack though when we got home. I didn’t know if he was actually having sex back then, but if he was, I wanted him to be safe you know.”

“Yeah…” Gabriel agreed and tried to remember if he’d ever talked to Carlos about sex, let alone gay sex, let alone safe gay sex. He knew Andrea had sat their girls down when they hit puberty, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember ever doing so with Carlos. “Would it be… weird… if I were to go to that parade?”

“As a spectator?”

“Maybe? Or participant.”

“I don’t see why it would be. We could go together!” Owen said, getting excited. “We could march with the boys! We could get matching shirts!”

“Oh… I uh I don’t know if Carlos would want me to. They’ve probably got plans with their friends.”

“We can all march together!” Owen pointed out. “Maybe that friend of Carlos’ I got talking to at the wedding will be there. What’s his name again… something with a J I think. He had some killer moves on the dancefloor.” He shook his head. “Anyway let me call the boys and then we can figure out our outfits.”

Before Gabriel had time to stop him or even make him take a breath and discuss things, Owen had pulled up TK’s contact and hit call.

“TK, what are you and Carlos doing the weekend of the 30th?” He said the second the call connected, not bothering with hello.

“The weekend of the - wait that's pride weekend. I scheduled the weekend off. It's already been approved. You're not making me change it now. We have plans.” TK replied, apparently not bothered by the lack of greeting.

“Yes, yes, I know. But what kind of plans? Are you marching in the parade?”

“I don't know... maybe. Why? Please tell me you're not planning on marching with the entire 126?”

“What? No.” Owen said immediately. “It's way too short notice." He paused to think. “But it's an excellent idea for next year. Remind me to talk to the AFD brass about it. We could build a float or use one of the ladder trucks! We could probably find some rainbow decorations or just buy some pride flags. Maybe we could get a local artist to design something for us! We could set up a competition! Maybe we could even get the winning design as a mural in the firehouse!"

Owen was getting more and more excited and started moving around the house to find a pen and paper to write his ideas down.

"Dad, dad, DAD!" TK all but yelled down the phone to get his attention. “Is that why you called? To talk about your ideas for an LGBT+ friendly firehouse?”

“No, you just gave me that idea.” he scribbled some key words down on an old receipt.

“So why did you call then? On my day off. That I'm spending with my husband who magically also has the day off. And we're enjoying that. Together. Alone.” TK said, emphasising the last two words.

Owen caught the implication but decided to ignore it.

“Oh yes, right. I wanted to know what your plans are for the pride weekend because we thought we might join you and march in the parade together.”

“We? Who is we?”

“Me and Gabriel. It'll be a multi-generational father and son thing. We were thinking of getting matching t-shirts printed. For all four of us.” Owen said, looking at Gabriel for confirmation.

“Wait, my father wants to go to pride?” Carlos asked and Owen briefly wondered if he'd been on speaker the whole time.

“Yes! It was his idea. He wants to share the experience with you. With both of you. And me I suppose. Even though I'm not gay. I mean... there was that one time in college...”

“Ok please stop talking.” TK said quickly. “I really don’t want to hear about your college hook ups.”

“It wasn’t a hook up!” Owen protested. “More like a… mutual understanding and appreciation.”

“Uhuh. Yeah, sure, Carlos and I have those all the time. This morning actually. He was very appreciative. And understanding. He’s also very good at following instructions. Very eager to please.”

“TK!” Owen heard Carlos say after some sputtering and coughing. He assumed TK had made him choke on his drink.

“What?” TK said innocently and Owen could practically hear the shit eating grin that was without a doubt on his face. “I was just saying we have a lot of these mutual appreciation moments. And how much I enjoy those.”

“Yeah, please don’t.”

“I can’t talk about how much I appreciate my husband now?” TK asked. “My big, strong, hot… so incredibly hot you wouldn’t believe…”

“TK…” Carlos warned but it came out more of a mix between a giggle and gasp.

“Guys, focus, please.” Owen interrupted them. “What colour are we thinking for the shirts? I was thinking pink, to fit the theme.”

“Wait what theme? When did we agree on a theme?” TK asked, distracted.

“The pride theme. Pink for pride.”

“Shouldn’t it be rainbow themed then?” Carlos asked, sounding somewhat more composed.

“I’m not sure I’d look good in rainbow colours.” Owen mused. “Yellow isn’t really my colour. It washes me out.”

“Dad, just wear whatever you normally wear.” TK said, sounding like he’d resigned himself to the fact he wasn’t getting out of going along with his dad’s idea. “We don’t need a theme. Carlos and I have our outfits planned out already.”

“No we don’t.” Carlos protested. “I told you, I’m not wearing that in public.”

TK sighed.

“We’re still discussing our outfits.” He corrected himself. “So just wear whatever. Nobody is going to pay attention to what you’re wearing… unless you’re in drag or wearing ass-less chaps.” He paused. “Please don’t wear those.” 

“I don’t think the cowboy look is really for me.” Owen mused. “But I do still have my motorcycle outfit…”

“If you wear that I’m not walking anywhere near you. And that’s a promise.” TK swore and Owen laughed.

“I guess my outfit is still a work in progress too. Gabriel and I will brainstorm and we’ll let you know what’s what.”

“Sure. But no leather and if anyone calls you daddy, I’m out of there.” TK warned him before ending the call.

Owen laughed and sat back down at the table with Gabriel.

“See? I told you the boys would be on board. Now, what do you think. Pink or rainbow?”

The next few weeks consisted of Owen forwarding every outfit idea he had to Gabriel as well as their sons in their family group chat.

TK shot almost everything down right away, while Gabriel was unsure and let Owen decide for them both.

“Ok, the boys said they’d meet us at the starting point of the parade. It’s not that far but we should get going soon if we want to get a good spot. You want to get behind the advocacy groups but still near enough to the front that people still pay attention.” Owen said as he let Gabriel into his house a few weeks later. “I have our shirts and signs right here.”

“Signs? What signs?”

“The signs we agreed on…” Owen said slowly as if he was talking to a child.

“I don’t remember agreeing to signs. What do we need signs for when we have the shirts?”

“We agreed it would be nice. I had them made especially. They’re laminated.” Owen held up one of the signs. “I know a guy who makes those yard signs for politicians, he made these for me.”

“Right. Well… I think… I’ll just stick to the shirt for now.” Gabriel said, warily eyeing the sign Owen was holding.

“Alright. Well… I’ll just… take both of them then. Maybe I can convince Judd to march with us too. He’s a father too and I think he and Grace mentioned taking Charlie to watch the parade because she likes colours.” Owen rambled while Gabriel looked at the two matching t-shirts laid out on the kitchen table.

“If you’re not sure, we can just go and watch. The boys won’t mind.” Owen suggested, picking up on Gabriel’s unease.

“No, I promised Carlos I’d march with him, so that’s what I’m going to do.” Gabriel said resolutely. “Andrea and the girls said they’d come watch too and I don’t want to let them all down.” He picked up one of the shirts. “Where can I change?”

When they arrived at the parade starting point, Owen seemed to feel right at home and within five minutes he’d become best friends with a few of the drag queens also getting ready to march.

“I’m here with my friend.” He gestured to Gabriel. “We’re consuegros actually. Our sons are married and we’re marching with them… but I don’t think they’re here yet.” He looked around. “We got matching t-shirts and we’re marching as a family.”

“That’s nice darling but you have to look the part if you’re going to march. That t-shirt just won’t do. Let us give you a make over.” She looked back and forth between Owen and Gabriel. “Both of you.”

Fifteen minutes later Owen had a rainbow flag painted on his cheek and both of them wore rainbow sashes, though Gabriel had convinced their style team to tie it around the rim of his hat instead of wearing it the way it was meant to.

One of the queens had called it Texas-chic and he liked the sound of that.

“Carlos! TK! Over here!” Owen yelled and waved when he spotted their sons in the crowd.

TK waved back and dragged Carlos with him over to their fathers. Owen did his best to hide his disappointment when he saw neither of them were wearing the t-shirts he’d made for them.

“Why aren’t you wearing the shirts we agreed on?”

“It’s too hot for those.”

“We’re wearing them.”

“That’s your choice.” TK said with a shrug. “And besides, I’m here with my husband, I’m wearing the ring he put on my finger, and his last name. I think people are going to get the message that I think being gay is ok.”

“I have the shirts in my backpack.” Carlos told them and shrugged at the raised eyebrow from his husband. “Your dad put a lot of time and effort into them, TK. The least we could do is wear them for half an hour.”

TK lovingly rolled his eyes at him.

“You’re such a boy scout.” He said and kissed Carlos’ cheek. “But I’m fine wearing what I’m currently wearing.”

Owen decided to drop it and just stood back and let the chaos unfold as his and Gabriel’s style team set their sights on TK and Carlos.

Before long they’d painted rainbow flags on their cheeks, put temporary tattoos on their arms, and managed to talk Carlos into taking off the tank top he was wearing underneath a mesh shirt, much to TK’s delight.

By the time the parade started moving, someone had given all four of them little rainbow flags to wave, and Owen was trying to find a way to both wave his flag and carry two signs.

The four of them started walking with the rest of the crowd, waving their flags and waving to the people watching from the sides.

There was a DJ on the back of a pickup truck playing party music, and TK convinced Carlos to dance with him when the parade had stopped for a moment.

Someone shouted at him to put a ring on it when they saw Carlos’ moves, and he just laughed, held up his hand to show off his wedding ring, and yelled back he’d already done that.

The song ended and the two of them walked back to where Owen and Gabriel were standing and watching them.

A few people had noticed the “Free dad hugs” signs they were holding and came to ask for a hug. Owen happily obliged but Gabriel seemed a little awkward and unsure what to do.

“Are you ok dad?” Carlos asked him and Gabriel nodded.

“I’m fine. It’s just… a lot to take in.”

Carlos looked around.

“Yeah… I was kind of overwhelmed the first time I went. The first time TK dragged me along.” He smiled to himself .“We’d only been together a couple of months by then. It was a lot but it was a great experience.”  

Gabriel smiled.

“I'm proud of you.” He told Carlos and squeezed his shoulder. “I know I haven't always been the best dad to you but I'm so proud of the man you are. I'm so proud to call you my son.”

Carlos swallowed thickly and nodded.

“Thanks dad. That... means a lot.”

“I should have said it sooner.” Gabriel shook his head. “Before I got this shirt made. Before I let Owen convince me all this was a good idea.” He said and laughed, gesturing at himself in his brightly coloured I love my gay son shirt and the rainbow sash around the rim of his hat.

“I don't know, I think it suits you. You blend right in.” TK said, trying to relieve the tension somewhat. “You're one of us now.”

Gabriel laughed and in a rare public display of affection pulled both him and Carlos into a hug.

“That puts me in great company.”

“I agree.” Owen said, joining their group hug. “You boys are the best thing to happen to us.”

The parade started moving again but as they marched, more people started to approach both Owen and Gabriel for dad hugs.

Owen thrived in the attention and somehow managed to bring out a whole new version of Gabriel, who seemed to enjoy being able to make people happy with a small gesture.

“Are you seeing this?” Carlos asked TK. They were walking a few steps behind their dads, watching it all unfold.

“Yeah. Looks like my dad finally had a good influence on someone.”

[rosicheeks]

i do not know if i ever sent this to you. i have posted it. i hope you like it Princess.

[curiosity-killed]

u know when u shouldn’t get ur hopes up but it’s too late the hopes are up, they are awake and eating breakfast and writing out a schedule for the next 3-17 days