#he doesn’t know what dollars are give him a toddler | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hopefuloverfury · 6 months

Note

I know you said you might do this anyway, but what were the bachelorette's first impressions of the farmer? how did they all fall in love with them?

I had so many thoughts about this, and even though I cut out quite a bit—yes, it was worse than this—they’re still big. I actually had to rework the format because tumblr literally would not let me post the fucking text wall that was Maru's part, and then I couldn't have her part be formatted differently because that drove me insane. Jesus. Writing for Emily is still a little unfamiliar to me, and I think it reflects in my writing a little bit, but I hope I did her justice.

Bachelors are here.

Bulleted format. Scattered dialogue, self-doubt, and a little bit of thirst(Leah's fault, not mine), but mostly fluff. Mentions of injuries, blood, and the farmer being a reckless dumbass. Not proofread, please excuse any mistakes, my English isn’t great. Some of them include a bouquet, others do not. I stuck to canon for most of them, but I gotta be honest, sometimes my imagination is just so much more fun. Enjoy <3

Maru

Maru is extremely excited to meet you

Those farmlands have been sitting there for years, wasting away and falling apart with no one to care for them, and as a little girl she absolutely loved your grandpa

She was always interested in agriculture, and watching him work was never anything but interesting to her

She was heartbroken when he passed away, but because the farm belonged to your family after that, and there was a strict ‘no trespassing’ rule, she never got to visit

She could stand outside the gate, looking over the slowly deteriorating land, but never ever did she hop the fence

So the idea of the farmlands opening back up was a dream come true for her—the fact that someone was finally going to start caring for the land again filled her with so much joy

When she does finally meet you, that joy is confounded with curiosity

She can admit readily that she’s attracted to you, but she doesn’t get many opportunities to speak to you after the initial introductions, so it doesn’t go much deeper than that

You’re always so busy, and she doesn’t want to bother you, lest she distract you from your chores or responsibilities

But sometimes, you’ll come into town for your errands, and watching you flitting around with so much on your plate makes her hopeful for the future of the valley

She knows that your grandfather must be resting easy now, with the farm in your capable hands

Honestly, at first she thought you might fix up the farm enough to sell the land and make a dollar off of it, and then bounce

She’s relieved to know that you’re not doing that

And the more buildings you commission from Robin, the more excited she gets

There’s one time when she goes on a walk to take a break from a frustrating problem with one of her machines, and she ends up at the northern entrance of your farm

It’s greater than it ever was under your grandfather

The fields are full, there’s animal pens bursting with life, and you’re standing a little ways off, feeding your horse

You notice her, sensing her stare, and she’s terribly embarrassed at showing up without any invitation or warning—even if it was unintentional

But you grin, happy for the company, and usher her onto your property

She flicks open the gate, and the moment her feet touch the ground beyond the fence, she’s teleported back to her time as a toddler, when she would chase the chickens and watch your grandfather work

You’ve heard how close she was with him, and how much she looked up to him, so when she starts tearing up looking around the property, you lead her to your grandfather’s shrine

She kneels in front of the stone, holding her breath still in her chest to keep from sobbing

She’d never been able to visit the headstone before that moment, and seeing his name carved into the dark stone broke her heart

You give her permission to visit the farm whenever she likes, even when you’re not home, if ever she wants to visit him or take a break from everything

The farm is peaceful and beautiful, and she takes you up on the offer with a wet smile

She starts visiting frequently after that, more often when she knows you’re home, but sometimes when you’re not

One day in particular comes to mind: you’d run off to the desert for the day, for one reason or another

She spent the day pacing around the farm, and while she was watching the animals disappear into their pens as the sun crept below the mountains, there was an otherworldly whirring sound by your home

She investigated, and when she spotted you behind your farmhouse, she almost fell apart right then and there

Your body was bruised, and there were shallow cuts in your skin where your clothes were torn—most of them looked like claw marks, but there were also pieces of your clothing and hair that were dark and ashy, like you’d been singed by flames

You caught sight of her, and the relieved smile on your face was like nothing she’s ever seen before

She couldn’t stand to see the farm fall apart again—that was what she told herself, anyway, as she helped you into the farmhouse with a hand around your hip, fully supporting you as you trudged up the front steps

You collapse on the couch, too exhausted and sore to walk up the stairs to your bedroom

She does her best with what limited first aid supplies you have, and thankfully your injuries aren’t terrible, so she manages it well enough

But she’s terrified, though she knows that the likelihood of you dying on your couch is slim to none

While she’s bandaging a cut on your cheek, you realize that her hands are shaking terribly

Carefully, you reach up to hold her wrist, and she stops short

The air between you is charged with something new as you lock eyes

It clicks for her then

But she’s afraid that if it isn’t reciprocated, you’ll stop letting her visit your grandfather and the farm, so she keeps that firmly to herself when you ask if she’s alright

She reassures you that she’s fine, just a little shaken, and that she’ll feel better if you let her finish

She stays over that night, keeping an eye on you from the other couch as you sleep—just for her peace of mind

You wake up and you’re a little better, but she still walks you down to the clinic in the morning for Harvey to properly look you over and treat you

Her dad gives her a lot of shit for spending the night at your place, but she’s confident in her choice and doesn’t regret it, not with your injuries treated properly and your chipper smile flashing in the sunlight as you walk through the square a few days later

It’s a little tense with her father for a while afterward, but she’s not having any of it and is quick to shut him down whenever he tries to scold her—she might have his brains, but she got her mother’s spirit

You feel like shit for putting her through all of that though, and so you stay away from the caverns unless it’s strictly necessary

When it is necessary, you take a lot of food and warp totems with you, just in case—and staircases. Loooots of staircases

She’s grateful for that, but doesn’t know how much until a long while later

It’s not your fault—it was a misunderstanding

Her parents mentioned you on Friday after they got home from date night at Stardrop, and her whole world came crashing down

They told her that you looked terrible, and that you mentioned spending the day in the desert

she was out the door a moment later

Maru sprinted the whole way down to town square, praying you were still at the saloon, and when she busted through the door, you were perched at the bar with a pint in your hand

At the sound of someone nearly crashing through the front door, you lifted up your head, and she really wished her parents could be more specific

You do look terrible, but not because you’re in bad shape—you’ve just got a nasty sunburn and the most horrendous bags under your eyes

Everyone is staring at her, because she never goes to the saloon, but she doesn’t care

She’s so grateful that you’re okay, albeit a little tired

You recognize the look on her face, pay for your tab without bothering to finish your drink, and pull her right back out the door

You walk her home, gently explaining that no, you did not go into the caverns today, you only went to the desert to pick up things from Sandy’s shop and for some “exotic foraging,” for lack of better phrasing, and the sun just took it out of you

You don’t owe her an explanation, it’s none of her business what you get up to, she says, but you shut that down with a hard look, stopping still in the middle of the path to her home

She can’t meet your eyes for fear of you seeing right through her

Her worry, her fear, her paranoia and the wild look in her eyes when she spotted you at the bar was all too honest

There’s more there, and she’s terrified that you’ve figured it out

“You want it to be your business though, don’t you?”

She bites her lip hard, trying not to cry now that she knows she’s been found out

She nods, and then your hand is circling her wrist, and you’re pulling her into your chest

“I want it to be your business too.”

And if you feel her tears drip onto your clothed shoulder, you don’t mention it

Penny

Penny stopped in her tracks the first time she saw you

It was a few days after you’d arrived in Pelican Town, maybe the third or the fourth of Spring

She was dropping Jas off at home when she saw you chopping down trees in Cindersap with a worse-for-wear knapsack slung diagonally over your shoulders, stuffed full with wood and fiber

You were sweating, and panting, and part of her was concerned for your wellbeing, because in that moment she was sure you’d collapse right in the grass beside your ax

But then you wiped the sweat off of your forehead and felled a giant pine tree, in no time at all

She was going to stare some more, but then Jas yanked on Penny’s arm and asked her to walk her inside

Penny only barely managed to tear her gaze away from you to take Jas inside and drop her off

She’s not totally proud of it, and Marnie still teases her for it a little bit, but she rushed through dropping Jas off and was a little short with both of them in her eagerness to get back outside—but not to talk to you. Oh, no.

She was much too shy to do that

But she wanted to see you one more time before you left

Unfortunately by the time she escaped Marnie’s questioning stare, and all but tumbled out of the front door in her rush, you were already packed up and gone

You didn’t go to the egg festival (you were broke, and probably forgot about it in favor of clearing your farmlands)

The next time she got to take a look at you—a proper look, this time—was at the flower dance

You were walking around the meadow, introducing yourself to some, and familiarly greeting others

And when you introduced yourself to her, she nearly forgot her own name as you shook her hand

It had been four weeks since you moved to town, and your hands were calloused from the farm work you’d been busting your ass at since you arrived

But that was the only rough part about you

Everything else was soft and kind, and the way you said her name made butterflies erupt in her stomach

And the smile you gave her afterward was so pretty

She couldn’t forget the way your eyes crinkled at the edges as you bid her good luck during the dance and went on your way

And from then on, it felt like she was seeing you everywhere

Hearing about you from the other townsfolk, catching sight of you walking through town at least twice a day, and even getting a few opportunities to talk with you herself

And then her tiff with George happened, and she swears no one had ever been so quick to defend her—she was a little starstruck when you smiled softly at her after he was gone, and reassured her that what she did was kind and good-intended

You were always smiling at her like that, heartbreakingly gentle

When she apologized for the way her mom shouted at you after trying to help clean their trailer, when you ate her poor attempt at stir-fry without complaint, and especially when you showed up during her field trip with the kids in Cindersap

Clearly just out of the fields, dirt on your knees and mud on your boots, with the most breathtaking glitter in your eyes

Your skin was flushed from exertion, and she’s never seen anyone look attractive while sweating, yet there you stood, backlit by the early afternoon sun

And watching you interact with the kids was the cherry on top

She’s always wanted a big family, but no one in Pelican Town ever seemed like a good match for her—not in the long run, anyway

But she thinks you’re kind, and safe, and you have a natural energy that makes you easy to get along with

She’s well aware that she likes you, but she’s used to things not going her way, or being taken from her, so she resigns herself to an eternity of pining after you

She tries not to fantasize too much, because it’s a little embarrassing, and it hurts a little, but sometimes she can’t help but imagine what you might look like with a child bouncing on your hip

What you’d like for breakfast—how you’d like your eggs in the morning

She thinks about what domestic life with you would be like constantly

Shortly after Robin builds Penny and Pam their house, you show up on her doorstep

You asked Robin to keep it a secret, of course, so Penny doesn’t know it was you and still doesn’t

But she invites you in, too excited to show you everything to notice the stunning array of flowers clutched tightly behind your back

She insists on showing you around, and letting you check everything out

You both step into the kitchen, and she’s gesturing grandly at the dining space, practically squealing over the hand-embroidered tablecloth Granny Evelyn gave them as a housewarming gift

She spins around. “So? What do you think?”

And that’s when you finally reveal the bouquet behind your back

“I think these might look good on the table.”

She thinks you’re being kind, or that maybe you don’t know what those bouquets are for, because there’s just no way, right?

“Oh!—I’m sure we have a vase for these somewhere, just let me—”

You stop her with a careful hand on her wrist, barely gripping just in case you’ve read it all wrong and she wants to get away from you

“Penny. Do you… know what I’m asking you?”

And she does, but she’s in disbelief. There’s no way you’d want her too, right?

And now that she thinks about it, she could’ve sworn you were interested in Haley or Abigail, because, you know, obviously they’re both really pretty, but Haley’s family has money, and Abigail’s so much cooler than her—

“If I wanted them, would I be here, giving a bouquet to you?”

After you leave—because as romantic as you are, you’re still a busy person running a farm all by yourself—she puts the flowers on the table with the dopiest grin on her face

She flops into her bed and squeals into her pillow, the fluttering in her chest so strong she swears she could float away

She has trouble falling asleep that night, too busy thinking of your smile as she stares at the ceiling fan

Abigail

She’s determined to dislike you from the get-go no wonder her and Seb are friends

When she finally sees you, during an early spring trip to Pierre’s, she takes the sudden drop in her stomach as a sign that you’re bad news

Then you beat her at the egg hunt, and she’s in a sour mood for days

she will straight up refuse to leave her room if she knows you’re in the shop

Wednesday is her favorite day of the week, because she won’t have to see you

But of course you have the audacity to show up one day when she’s only just managed to get out of helping her mom with dinner

She’s getting her ass kicked in JotPK when you knock on her bedroom door

She doesn’t know why the hell you’re bothering her, and she’s suddenly embarrassed that you caught her right as she died, but then she gets an idea

She asks you to play in the hopes that you’re terrible at it so at least she’ll finally have proof that you’re not good at everything or perfect all the time

She half-hopes you say no, but then you’re sitting down and reaching for a controller, so she’s stuck with you

You make it past the first level without dying, while she gets killed within the first thirty seconds, because of fucking course

She’s halfway through thinking up a snarky barb when her mom calls for her

You set the controller down and smile at her, and then you’re reaching into your pocket

“I came over to give this to you. I found it in the mines, and it reminded me of you.”

You hand her the most opaque, gorgeous raw amethyst she’s ever seen

She has half a mind to ask why on earth you’d think about her, but then her mother is calling her again, more urgently the second time around, and you’re walking out within seconds

She stares at the amethyst for what feels like forever that night, thinking

She doesn’t get the opportunity to properly speak to you again until a week later

It’s raining, and she’s playing her flute, just basking in the whimsy feeling of the valley

She opens her eyes after a particularly long note to find you standing a few feet off, your fishing rod in hand

The rain is soaking you to the bone, with some of your hair stuck to the delicate skin of your throat, and she short-circuits

Her gut reaction is to get defensive and ask you what you’re doing, but you handle it with grace

You ask her what she was doing, and when she says she wanted to spend time alone, the recognition on your face is palpable

You nod, adjusting the strap of your backpack on your shoulder, but she stops you, saying some bullshit about how she doesn’t mind your company

Hasn’t she minded your company since you first showed up? Why is she lying??

But the surprise and hesitance clear on your face makes her feel… not nice

So she scoots over, gesturing vaguely to the space beside her

“You’re getting soaked. Come stand under the tree.”

What progress you made with her is quickly dashed when you pull out the mini harp—because why wouldn’t you also play an instrument?

She’s always been competitive, but she doesn’t understand why she’s so desperate to have something over you

Hearing about your trips in the mines from the other townies doesn’t help

Knowing you have the freedom to go wherever you like without any overbearing, old-school parents breathing down your neck, and the fact that you’re apparently in good standing with the two adventurers up at the guild, who speak to basically no one else?

One night her self-worth is particularly bad, and she runs off to the graveyard for some peace and quiet

Her dad is getting on her ass about “acting like a lady” more than usual and it’s been driving her up the wall

It rubs her the wrong way how no one bats an eye at the things you get up to, but everyone’s always getting on her case about acting “proper”

And of course you show up that night, too

Right in the middle of her break between drills, while she’s heaving and guzzling water

You appear out of seemingly nowhere, and the shriek she lets out is so fucking embarrassing

You don’t laugh at her for that, but she does see the mirth in your eyes when she says she was practicing her swordsmanship

As if the thought of her swinging a sword around is so funny to you

She snaps something about that, but then her entire world flips on its axis when you chuckle good-naturedly and make a joke about how pissy it must make Pierre, what with his old, dated-ass values

And then you ask if she’d ever like to practice with you—“I could use a sparring partner anyway”

And obviously Pierre catches you chatting in front of the headstones and nearly pops a blood vessel, and she’s irritated that you had to see them like that, but she’s caught totally off guard when you back her up and laugh at Pierre’s expense

“I know he’s your dad and all, so no disrespect to him, but fucking hell, the stick up his ass is massive”

That lightens her mood a bit, knowing that she has at least one more person who acknowledges that her parents are overbearing sometimes

Unfortunately for your patience, it takes a long time and a few sparring sessions before everything clicks into place for her

In the thick, humid heat of summer, she finally gets you down, her wooden sword pressed just below your jugular

The golden afternoon sunlight bounces off the sweat on your face, and it makes you glow beneath her

You give her a breathless smile, with an eager and impressed shimmer in your eyes, and suddenly, she understands

Every moment since you stepped off of the bus, she’s been pining after you

Desperate to have something over you, not because she wants to be better than you, per se, but because she wants to impress you

She cuts the session short, not glancing behind her even once as she all but sprints away from the farmlands

Once she’s home, she rushes into her room and locks herself inside, her face beet-red and sweaty from the run, and from you

The amethyst you gave her so long ago sits on her night stand, mocking her with its deep purple glow

And oh, she is so fucked.

Haley

She doesn’t share in the enthusiasm everyone has about you, and she honestly doesn’t really care that you’ve moved in

She has no interest in making friends with you—you’re always covered in dirt and sweat and she thinks it’s really strange gross

After you take Emily’s side over the couch cushions, she’s pretty bratty for a bit, and is convinced you have a crush on Emily in order to side with her

But if you give it a few weeks, she accepts that maybe that’s not true, given that your interactions with Emily don’t seem more than platonic

But there’s this one time, where you’re over to drop off some cloth or something, and she’s struggling with a jar in the kitchen

You open it for her without question, and when your hands brush against each other when you hand the jar back, Haley’s skin tingles

But then Emily is there and you’re leaving, so she doesn’t bother examining it further, content to move on with her life

That plan comes crashing down rather quickly though

A few weeks later while taking pictures at the beach, she notices her wrist is uncharacteristically barren

Immediate panic swells in her chest, and she spends thirty minutes pacing over the tiny dunes looking for her great-grandmother’s bracelet, not even caring when sand spills into her shoes and starts rubbing against her skin uncomfortably

She’s close to tears, paranoid and jerking her head this way and that at the slightest glimmer in the sand

Those thirty minutes pass, and she’s not found anything, and her tears start flowing freely

“Haley?”

She spins around, and sees you

She knows how eager you are to help everyone in town—you’re helping to fix up the old community center, all of the museum’s donation placards have your name on them, and every board request outside of Pierre’s rarely goes unanswered

Besides, you’ve helped George and Shane before, and surely she’s not as grouchy as they are, so maybe you’d be willing to help her, too?

She calls you over, and you immediately rush over at her tone

The concern on your face is enough to make a wave of fresh tears push forward, but she blinks them back desperately

Your hands are on her shoulders, squeezing softly as she tries not to cry

She resigns herself to never seeing her grandmother’s bracelet again, when your hands are leaving her skin

She feels cold immediately, even with the sun beating down on her neck

But then you start walking around, hunting for her lost jewelry with a focus unlike anything she’s ever seen, and the thought of you helping her when she’s been basically nothing but unkind makes her feel awful

Her tears get a new kick to them, clogging up her chest and making her sick to her stomach, when you’re calling out from across the beach

You rush over from Elliott’s shack, and she sees her bracelet glittering between your fingers as you hold it out

“Is this it?”

She doesn’t bother with a verbal response, grabbing the bracelet tightly in her own hand and flinging her arms around your shoulders to hug you close

She doesn’t think she’s imagining the blush on your face as you help her put the bracelet back on, and the way you hold her wrist before pulling away makes her burn

After that moment, she’s always noticing things about you

The little things you do that show how much you care for other people, how kind and compassionate you are—the way you have everyone wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even know it

She knows that’s not true, though—she knows that you can tell the effect you have on people, but she’s struck dumb by the fact that you never use that against them

You’re never manipulative, never inconsiderate, never anything but good and kind and she’s so fucking insecure because she’s always been bratty and selfish and shallow and there’s no way someone like you would ever like her back—Oh.

She wants you, but doesn’t think she deserves to, given how she treats people

She’s never really been one to wallow, though, so she springs to action immediately

She goes through her closet and donates half of her wardrobe, she starts doing her part to keep the house tidy, she smiles and waves at anyone she passes in town—she’s even started hanging out with Emily, and she’s having fun

After a few weeks, she realizes that now she’s motivated more by her relationships flourishing, instead of trying to impress you

But she can tell it’s making a difference with you, too, and that’s a nice plus

Especially when you’re both standing in Marnie’s pens, taking pictures with the cows, and you’re so gentle with her after she gets bucked off

You insist on walking her home, carrying her camera equipment for her and watching her closely for any discomfort or limping

She’s never felt so cared for, and she can’t think of anything else while she’s washing the mud off of herself

But you don’t ask her out until a little while later, probably sometime in Winter 2

You go into her house, and Emily sees the bouquet first, immediately knowing what it’s for and all but shoving you in the direction of the kitchen

Haley’s standing at the counter, making herself some peppermint coffee in her sleep clothes yes i’m bitter it’s not an in game item shut up, and maybe it’s not as romantic as you wanted it to be, but she just looks so cute and cozy that you ask anyway

She says yes, of course, and she can’t stop smiling long enough to drink her coffee, even after you’re gone and the flowers are sitting proudly on her vanity

Leah

Leah’s world isn’t really affected all that much when you show up in Pelican Town

She’s excited to see what you do with the farmlands, and she wouldn’t be opposed to having another friend besides Elliott, but she’s not going to bust her ass to make friends with you

She’s got bills to pay on an artist’s salary, and her days are filled with foraging and working on her art, so she busy

But the first time she meets you is when she’s walking to the spring onion patch for some late morning foraging

When she arrives, she’s disappointed to find that you’re already there, yanking the last of the spring onions out of the ground

Most of her money goes into paying her bills, so her diet mainly consists of food she’s foraged in Cindersap or around the valley

She depends a little too heavily on the onions during spring, so if there’s someone else in the valley who forages for food besides Linus, she’s got to rework her schedule to make sure she gets enough to eat

She’s in the middle of asking what you did before moving to Pelican Town when you pull a face and start digging through your bag

And then you’re dropping five of the largest ones into her basket

She’s surprised by it, and her gut reaction is to tell you ‘oh, you didn’t have to do that, I could’ve found something else’—but you’re not having any of it

You’re waving goodbye and traipsing off towards the tower, the sun beating down and making you gleam like gold

She shakes it off and walks home, caught off guard by how readily kind you are to someone you only just met

And your kindness doesn’t stop there

Sometimes she doesn’t have time between her art projects to go look for anything in Cindersap, so you take it upon yourself to get things for her too

And the only reason you overhear her heated phone conversation with Kel is because you’re dropping off forage for her

She starts doing the same for you, when your farm really takes off

She’s blown away by how much progress you’ve made, and she’s honestly a little jealous, but she can’t find it in herself to be bitter because you’re so wonderful all the time

Someone like you deserves a nice life like that, you know?

She’s inspired by you and your kindness, so much that she carves a sculpture for you

She doesn’t realize she has feelings for you when you display her sculpture on your porch, even though the feeling in her chest is overwhelming and fluttery

The moment she pieces everything together, it’s your fault

She’s trying to reach a fruit high up in the cherry blossom tree, already breathless from her continued efforts, when you appear out of thin air and scare the living daylights out of her

She looks up at the fruit longingly, and maybe if she jumps off of the trunk she can reach a little higher—

You lift her up like she weighs nothing, smiling kindly as she looks down at you in surprise

She’s sitting on your shoulder, your hands supporting her under her boots, and she plucks the fruit from the branch with a few twists

You let her down, snorting dryly when she comments on your strength, and she quickly uses her whittling knife to carve off a piece of the fruit for you

She holds it out for you to take, but you glance down at your hands with a frown

You got dirt on them from her shoes when you lifted her up, and you’re not totally jazzed at the idea of eating mud and dirt with your fruit

She thinks maybe you’ll stick your hands in the pond to rinse them off, but nope.

She blushes furiously when you lean forward and take the fruit into your mouth, straight out of her hand

Your lips brush her fingertips, and she gasps at the contact

You swallow and smile, and then you’re shrugging your backpack on and walking away like you totally didn’t just flip her world upside down and turn it inside out

It’s all she can think about from then on, no matter what you’re talking about or how brief your interactions are

She tries her best not to let it show, but it’s hard when you’re all she can think about, and all she wants to do is kiss those god awful lips of yours

She invites you to her art show in town, and you show up all dressed up for the occasion, with a glitter in your eyes she’s never seen before

Encouraging her once again, and for fucks’ sake would you please stop looking at her like that???? She’s about to give a speech to the whole town, she’s already nervous!

The show goes well—her sculptures were all sold, and Mayor Lewis even commissioned her for a Pelican Statue to put in the town square

Life’s going better than it has in a long time; her bills will be paid, and her confidence is through the roof

You’re walking her home after the show when you daringly thread your hands together

She looks at you in surprise, transfixed by the steady blush creeping down your neck and up to the tips of your ears

She squeezes your hand, a blush of her own spreading over her face that doesn’t go away even after you drop her off

She flops into bed with a dopey grin on her face, giggling uncontrollably and kicking her feet and holy fuck, she’s in her late twenties, why is she so giddy over holding hands???

It’s embarrassing, but no one is here with her anyway, so who cares?

You like her too.

Emily

She’s practically foaming at the mouth to meet you LMFAO

She had a dream about a new farmer moving into Pelican Town a month before you even quit at Joja

So when the townspeople found out you claimed your grandfather’s farm, Emily was truthfully, impatient as hell

She tried to keep her mind busy so it didn’t occupy her every day, but it got harder to do the closer it got to your arrival date

And she swore there was something different in the air when you stepped off the bus

The egg festival was the first time she spoke to you, and she’s sure it must be destiny that you spoke to her first out of everyone in the square

Right off the bat she knew there was something different about you

The way you carried yourself, and how you looked at the world around you

There was wonder there, like you had only just started living

She got the opportunity to know why when you visited the saloon one night

It was slow, and she was busying herself by wiping out a few wine glasses when you walked in, fresh out of the mines

You looked worse for wear, but when she asked if you were alright, your mood was overwhelmingly positive

Exploring the mines was easier than working at Joja at least—or so you claimed

Given how often she hears about people feeling stuck and stagnant, she’s glad at least one person in Pelican Town is taking charge of their life and trying to be happy

But the longer you’re in the valley, the better everyone’s lives seem to be going

Pam has her job back again, the minecarts are working, and then the community center is up and running—all thanks to you

She finally understands why she was having dreams before you ever showed up when the Joja Mart closes down and gets remodeled into a gorgeous movie theater a few weeks later

Everywhere you go good fortune seems to follow—the trees sway toward you, the water calms in your presence, and the wind blows a little gentler, and now the community is finally rid of that terrible corporation’s presence

When she finally realizes that she likes you, there’s no catalyst—no special moment or anything

You’re not even there when it clicks

She’s in her room, sewing a new dress for Haley for Feast of the Winter Star Christmas, and her train of thought wanders to you

She thinks of the dreams, of your influence over the townspeople, over the flora and fauna, and she knows that it was destiny for you to move to Pelican Town and fix everything

But then she sets that aside, and thinks about you

Just you

The way you look after a day out in your fields, the sound of your laugh, the dedication you show in everything you do, and the compassion and thoughtfulness of your actions

Even when you’re not fixing up the town, or dropping off gifts to some townie or another, you’re a bright spot in the middle of the gloom—the eye of the storm

You’re safe, and she gets teared up thinking about you

She likes you so much

She’s immediately abandoning the dress in favor of busting out her tarot cards, because now she has to know for sure

Is it a waste of time? Is it for her to decide? Is it destiny?

She doesn’t know, and she needs to find out before it drives her insane, and then The Lovers and Two of Cups fall out of her deck

She’s confident that the universe is pointing her in your direction, and she’s not going to ignore those signs any longer

She’s on her way to Pierre’s, coin purse in hand and jingling with the gold she needs to seal her future with you, when you run smack into each other outside of her house

You both stumble, but while you right yourself without issue, she falls backward

You catch her just in time and drag her back to her feet, apologizing profusely for knocking her down, and seeing you in front of her with your arms carefully looped around her waist, well

She confesses on the spot

It’s awkward, she’s stuttering the whole time, and you’re wide eyed in surprise as she stumbles over her words

Eventually she trails off, her cheeks as red as her dress, when you smile softly, and hold up a bouquet

She didn’t even notice it in your hands, but seeing it now, how could she have possibly missed it?????

A little bummed that you bought the bouquet first, but then again, this is the universe we’re talking about, she can’t complain about its methods

Certainly not when you’re carefully kissing her cheek and placing the flowers in her hands

#maru #leah #emily #haley #abigail #penny #sdv bachelorettes #sdv #stardew valley #blurbs #asks #requests #anon #headcanons #stardew valley headcanons #long post #lmfao catch me in a puddle on the floor because this took so long to get out

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rubydubydoo122 · 19 days

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Jason gets de-aged because I've seen fics of Tim or Dick being de-aged, and Bruce losing his memory, but no one has realized the potential for angst if you de-age Jason.

Zatanna had something come up. So of all people she could have sent to replace her, she sent Constantine. Bruce really didn’t know if his luck could get any worse. At least 15 year old Jason liked his accent.

Constantine was a really capable sorcerer, he was just really hard to work with. Worse than Hal Jordan. Though, if they wanted to get Jason back to normal, they would have to accept Constantine.

“Hey, Batman! Go back down into the cave, and send Bruce up. I want him instead of Brood and Gloom.”

Bruce was suddenly brought back to the breakfast table. In all of his 41 years of living, he had never seen Alfred smile this big, “That’s my boy.”

Jason beamed at that.

Bruce’s phone pinged. He didn’t even have to look to know it was Dick sending him a ‘Rule #2’ . That’s all his messages with Dick consisted of. Mostly rule #2’s, some rule #3’s, and the occasional rule #1. All in all, Bruce was doing relatively good. He was definitely avoiding Jason more, but if he was around him too much, the only thought that started to fill his brain was his cooling body in his arms. So he toed the line. And he doesn’t think Jason noticed all that much, because whenever Bruce wasn’t with him, one of his children was.

“Constantine’s coming instead of Zatanna.” Bruce finally said, “I think I should be allowed to brood a little bit.”

“ Don’t get your knickers in a twist , old man.” Jason actually had a really good Liverpool British accent, “Mr. Constantine’s not that bad.”

“I just hate magic.” Bruce didn’t grumble. He was too old to grumble like a toddler.

Jason looked himself over and then put a hand to his chest in fake offense.

Bruce’s phone pinged again, “Dick, will you stop that!”

But it wasn’t Dick, because Dick was holding a fork and knife in his hands and mid-bite.

Bruce dug out his phone.

“ Is the bloke with the sparkly fingas here? ”

That earned a snicker from Duke, Dick and Tim.

Bruce stood up at the same time Tim said, “I’ll give you five dollars if you say that to his face.”

“Oh! Abso–”

“..Lutely not, Jason. To the cave. Let's go.”

Jason slid out of his chair without noise and followed.

Constantine was already in the cave, and smoking a cigarette.

“Hi, Mr. Constantine!” Jason practically glided down the stairs, as Bruce strode down at a normal pace.

“Hello there, Jason. I reckon you were a bit taller the last time I saw you. Bruce.”

“Constantine. I’m assuming Zatanna filled you in?”

“Yeah yeah yeah. I’m offended you didn’t call me first. I thought we were mates.”

Bruce just raised an eyebrow. Constantine squirmed a bit, and Jason shot Bruce a grin. A grin that was so reminiscent of the way Jason used to look at him after he cuffed a bad guy. Before Fellipe Garzona had fallen off that roof. Before Gloria Stanson had hung herself.

“Alrighty! Let's check out what kinda curse you’ve got going on. Brucie, would you mind taking a couple steps back, love?”

He did, and as soon as Bruce was out of range, Jason was surrounded in a dome of golden runes. Bruce didn’t miss the way Constantine frowned.

“What’s wrong?”

“The little birdie here has a lot of magic knotted all up together.” Constantine started searching through the runes, “Was it you or the Demon child that– Aha, knew it was you. Your soul’s got dimensional ripples.”

Jason frowned, “Heh?”

Bruce blinked, Dimensional ripples? Clark, Lois, and Jonathan had somehow been transported to this dimension before their souls had merged with their counterparts… who had died. Was that what happened with Jason? Maybe he should talk to Barry when all of this is over.

“And you’ve got some leftover Lazaru– Blimey! You have access to the All-Blade?”

Jason shrugged, “I don’t really like beyblades.”

“That’s not what the All-Blade is. It’s–” A set of runes began to glow, and the borderline fangirl look on Constantine’s face immediately dropped. “Jesus...”

“I have access to Jesus?” Jason touched his forehead, then his left shoulder and then his right, “Thank you, father, son, and the holy spirit. Amen.”

Bruce ignored Jason’s prayer, “What’s wrong?”

The dome of runes disappeared, “...I’ve got good news and bad news?”

He gave Constantine a look.

“Um, good news is, the spell looks like it’ll wear off on its own…” Constantine tried for a sheepish smile, but immediately dropped it, “bad news is, it isn’t supposed to? The magic is interacting with the dimensional ripples, and I can’t touch any of it because it’d be like…”

“Disarming a bomb?” Jason supplied. And Bruce had to suppress the urge to flinch at that analogy.

“Yes. Yes exactly, but one wrong move–”

“Boom.” He mimicked an explosion with his hands. ”But you said it’ll wear off on its own, so it’s fine. Right?”

Constantine winced and a ringing was starting to form in Bruce’s ears as he grabbed Constantine by the tie and started dragging him up the stairs.

“Stay here, Jason.”

“Bruce–”

“I said stay !” Jason flinched at his tone, but Bruce and Constantine were already in the study. “Explain.”

Constantine fixed his tie, “Whatever magic he got hit with didn’t just affect him physically, it also affected his soul. I think, if we’re going off of what happened to Clark and Lois, his soul merged together with his soul from an alternate dimension, causing it to be all… rippley. I can’t fully tell what it’s going to do, but in a couple of days, it looks like it’ll in about two or three days? There’s a 50/50 chance– or I guess, a 25/25/50 chance– that he’s going to either go back to normal, stay this way or…”

It was the 25th. two days from today would make it…

The 27th of April.

It suddenly felt like the ground underneath them was turning or tilting, or hell, both.

Bruce had gotten him back. He’d gotten him back, he can’t leave again. He can’t lose him again, he can’t die again.

Jason found it very rude that Bruce and Constantine were obviously leaving him out of the conversation about him. It completely baffles him how Bruce was raised by Alfred, yet had no manners. He wasn’t even subtle about it.

Constantine said the spell would wear off. So why did he look like he was about to say something was wrong. Like really wrong. Sure, trying to tamper with whatever was going on would be… bad, but they weren’t gonna mess with it. They would just wait for it to wear off.

Would he physically go back to normal, but he would never remember the past five years? Or was he slowly going to become younger and younger until he was just a literal fetus flopping around on a table?

Why won’t anyone tell him anything? It would be so much easier if they did.

Jason eyed the Batcomputer and then the stairs. There was no one else here, no one to stop him from learning by himself.

He opened up the batcomputer, and the first thing he noticed was that everything was filed differently. Instead of being alphabetical, the missions were sorted into who had the mission and the date. For some reason, Jason’s folder had the least amount of missions under it, even though the folder itself was older than Duke’s.

Still, he clicked on it, only to find that the oldest mission was less than a year ago. Not helpful.

Maybe if these were sorted recently, some of the older mission reports that he did with Bruce would be in Bruce’s folder.

Bruce’s most recent mission was called “Fun Sized Jason”. Guess that would be him. Jason clicked on it and… Bruce is a much sadder man than Jason had given him credit for. And Jason was currently upset at Bruce for snapping at him, and Bruce had obviously snapped because he was being broody. This man. Couldn’t even follow his own rules.

Rule #3 Don’t let Jason know something’s up between your relationship with him

What was ‘up’ between him and Bruce? If anything, Bruce has been a lot more patient with him.

Unless Bruce was acting. And Bruce could act, Jason had seen him at Galas.

No. He couldn’t have been. Bruce had said he’d give him the world. And he said it in the way that made Jason know he was telling nothing but the truth.

But that first night Bruce wouldn’t even look at him.

No. Bruce had to have been telling the truth.

But the longing and the guilt and regret… Maybe Jason had done something to Bruce, the same way he did something to Tim and Damian. Jason still didn’t know what exactly that was, just that he felt bad about it.

Jason exited out of that mission statement and started scrolling down to April of 2018. And there were a lot of cases. A part of Jason was glad they were re-organised by date because it would’ve taken a lot more work to try to figure out the name of the file, and then find the file.

Ethiopia: Sheila Haywood, the Joker, and Jason Todd – 4/24/2018- 4/27/2018

Bingo. The first date lined up with the last date in his notebook. He double clicked on it, when a locked symbol came up followed by a space for a password.

Great. Just perfect.

He tried the password Bruce used on most things.

Wrong.

Bruce’s birthday?

Wrong again.

Jason’s Birthday. Since the file seemed to be about him.

Oh yeah! Who has the best guessing skills? Jason does. He did a little victory spin in the chair, but when he went to look back at the computer, there was a Tim shaped wall blocking his view.

He tried to look around him, but Tim shifted to block him again.

“Timmy, Timbooo, my favorite brother-o. You’re blocking my view, Hermano.”

Tim gave him a look that was scarily similar to Bruce’s bat-glare.

Jason tried to look around him again, but suddenly, he was being tossed over Tim’s shoulder, and they were moving farther and farther from the computer.

“Hey! I was obviously in the middle of something!”

Tim snorted, as he started up the stairs. “I could bring up a spreadsheet of all the times you’ve done this to me. We’d be here for hours.”

Jason licked his finger and twisted so that he could stick it in his ear. Good news was, it made Tim let Jason go. Bad news was, it made Tim let Jason go, and sent Jason tumbling down the cave’s stairs.

“Jason!”

Lucky for Jason, he was a fast recoverer, and made an immediate beeline to the computer.

After escaping Arkham Asylum, The Joker had made his way to Ethiopia. Jason had come across the information that Sheila Haywood was his birth mother. Haywood had been a doctor who was working at a refugee camp, also located in Ethiopia. Without my knowledge or Alfred’s, Jason traveled to meet up with his mother.

Jason and I had managed to cross paths in Ethiopia, when we soon learned that Haywood was being held ‘hostage’ by the Joker. I went to go check on some other thing that had come up, and I had told Jason to stay put, but instead he had gone to attempt to save Haywood. Which led to Jason getting hurt by the Joker.

Jason started to scroll down more, the screen went black.

Tim was standing next to the outlet with the power cord in his hand.

Suddenly all the scars on his hand looked interesting, “Is.. Are most of my scars from the Joker?”

Jason heard Tim’s feet shuffle across the flood of the batcave, “I don’t think I’m the person you should be having this conversation with.”

“But it was bad enough to the point where I needed a Lazarus pit to get better. It was bad enough to the point where I had to stop being Robin.” Because why else would Tim start hanging around the manor when he was 13? Why else would Bruce adopt him? “And you were Robin after me?”

A beat, “Yes.”

He thought back to the conversation he had in the bathroom with Tim, “So, I didn’t grow out of being Robin. I was… forced into retirement. By the Joker.”

“That’s… the easy way of putting it.” Tim took one of Jason’s hands, “I want to show you something.”

They both went over to the locker area and Tim opened his locker and pulled out a shoe box from the top. “I guess since you knew I was a little stalker back in the day, there should be no reason for me to feel embarrassed for showing you these.” He moved to the bench and opened the lid.

Inside the box were a bunch of photos of Batman and Robin. Of Bruce and Jason. Tim handed him a couple. The first one was of Jason when he had just become Robin. He was talking animatedly while walking with a teenage girl. He remembers that night. Her name was Angela, and she had been followed for a couple of blocks by a bunch of older guys, and Jason couldn’t let her go home alone. Not with how cruel the streets could be.

The next one was of Jason cradling a baby. The mom had been separated from the baby during an Ivy attack.

The last one Tim had handed to him was of Batman and Robin in an Alley. They had just taken down a bunch of thugs, and Jason was talking with the two kids, Gavin and Evan, while Batman was farther off, with a fond smile on his face, looking at Jason.

“Robin is the light to Batman’s darkness. Hope to his fear. Every Robin gave light, but out of all of us, you shined the brightest. You were the people’s Robin, you cared about them so much, like each and every one of them are your brothers and sisters.” Tim pointed at the picture in Jason’s hand, “Your light was so bright, you made Batman smile. And that isn’t the only picture I have like that.” He put his hand on Jason’s elbow, “I could never come close to the Robin you were, but I always tried. You were like the Sun. And I could never take your place. Not really, but I tried my best to do what I thought you would. To make you proud. Even though… you didn’t really like me when you found out.”

“No. I like you. It’s just…” Jason could feel his eyes burn, “If I got hurt, really bad, bad enough to the point where I couldn’t be Robin anymore, why would Bruce let there be another one? When- When it could happen again? Or even worse. ”

Tim closed his eyes, “When the Joker did what he did to you, it sent him down a dark path. He was barely holding back his punches and he was barely dodging them either. Batman needed a Robin and—“

“I wasn’t there.”

“No! Jason, it wasn’t your fault. You were going through some of the worst moments of your life, it wasn’t your job at that time to be Robin, or emotionally babysit Bruce while he fought crime to deal with his trauma.”

“But you were, what? 13 at the time with no legal obligations to him. It shouldn’t have been your job either.”

Tim blinked, “ah, fuck.” He sat criss cross on the bench and turned so he was fully facing Jason, “point is, it was just a bad time. Bruce kicked Dick out of the Manor, The Joker had diplomatic immunity, which still does not make sense to me, but then he was sent back to Arkham. Bane broke Bruce’s back, some psycho took over being Batman and would not let Dick and I in the cave, but then Bruce got better and became Batman again. Superman died, but then he came back. Then Bruce got framed for murder, and then the riddler and clayface teamed up with this whole convoluted plot which involved Clayface showing up as you and trying to kill us and Bruce probably needed therapy, but he was too much of a stubborn ass to ever actually go.” Tim finally took a breath.

Jason blinked, “That’s a really rough five years.”

Tim groaned and leaned his head on Jason’s shoulder, “That was only two.”

“Then it was probably a… shittier five years.” Jason patted his head, “Thanks, Tim.”

Tim glanced at Jason, “For what? I literally just trauma dumped on you.”

Jason shrugged, “Yeah, but you also gave me more information about what the hell is going on around here than anyone has in the past two days. Maybe a lot of the things that happened sound horrible, but it’s better than not knowing. Ya know?”

Jason felt Tim nod, “I’m sorry we’ve been keeping it all from you. It’s not something Bruce likes to talk about, and for Dick being the next adult who isn’t emotionally constipated, he evades certain topics like the plague.”

Jason snorted, “Wanna know something I’ve been completely baffled by?”

Tim sat up, “What?”

“Dick isn’t… wallowed up in angst. Him and Bruce haven’t had a single argument, and Dick…he’s a lot different. So is Bruce.” Jason thought about it for a moment, “Am I different too?”

Tim smirked and dug out his phone, “Mentally, Emotionally, or Physically?” Tim angled the phone so Jason could see, and it was a picture of a man, kneeling and talking to a little girl. There was a red helmet on the floor, but the man had a domino that covered his eyes. Tim swiped to the next one, of older Jason helping an old lady across the street. He swiped again to a photo of him holding Damian in a firefighter’s hold. “You might be a lot rougher around the edges, but everyone changes with time, especially with the things you’ve gone through. Yeah, you might be different, but I think you’re still the same in the ways that it counts.”

Jason looked at the photo. Without the domino, or the helmet he could really see how he had grown into his features, “I look a lot like my papi,” He looked back at Tim, and then pointed upwards to where Bruce had gone, “But I think I learned how to help from my dad.”

#jason todd #batman #batfam #dc comics #dick grayson #tim drake #bruce wayne #damian wayne #duke thomas

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bonniebird · 2 years

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Billy x Reader

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Billy was late. He had promised that he would meet you five minute before the pool opened so you could get a nice spot on the deck chairs. But he never showed. You hadn't been worried at first. After all you still managed to beat a few people to some decent chairs but not the one you’d been hoping for.

When Billy had not shown up and it was almost halfway through his shift you started to worry. Leaving your things on your chair, having spotted Dustin across the pool and promised him five bucks to watch your things, you went to the front desk.

“Do you know where Billy is?” You asked as you leant on the front desk. The pool manager looked up at you, despondent first but then he looked you up and down and leant in.

“No. But if you need someone who can show up on time…”

“I’m fine, thanks. I just need to know if he called or anything. He doesn’t normally get sick.” You smiled sweetly at the manager and he sighed as he rummaged through the notes next to the phone.

“No calls from Hargrove. If you see him before I do tell him if he doesn’t get here in ten minutes he’ll be fired.”

“Can I use the phone. Please.” You gave the most dazzling smile you could muster and he handed it over. You picked up the receiver and span the dial to call the Hargrove house. No one picked up and you sighed, giving it back. Going back outside you went to your seat, put your sunglasses on and laid back. You felt a shadow fall over you and held out the five dollars.

“Thanks (Y/N)!” Dustin said eagerly. You smiled as you heard him cheerfully telling his friends they could pool their money and get enough snacks for everyone now.

Five minutes went by and you heard an excited disturbance flush over the gaggle of women tanning at one side of the pool. Suspecting Billy had finally arrived, you sat up. He was stumbling through the crowds, hair tousled but not in the way he liked, his shirt had something crusty on it and he looked rather startled.

Getting up you made your way over to him. “Billy? Are you ok?”

“(Y/N)? I couldn’t find you outside.” He muttered. He looked at you, his eyes were red, he was slightly sticky and he seemed unable to focus on anything, his eyes glazed with a distant shine.

“Outside? Billy, it's almost lunchtime? Are you sick?” You asked. He smiled and seemed to be swaying a little.

“It’s nearly lunchtime already. Wow. I need to get up on the lifeguard chair.” He stayed still, staring at you and didn’t move.

“Billy Hargove, were you up drinking all night?” You asked quickly, crossing your arms.

“We… stayed up till six am. I drank ten six packs. No one else drank as much as me.” The more he swayed and spoke, the more you were sure that he was still drunk.

“That was five and a half hours ago… maybe you should go home.” You mumbled. He scrunched up his face.

“Go home? No. I don’t want to go home. I want to party.” He threw up his arms and laughed. With a determined nod you held onto Billy’s arm the way you would hold onto a toddler prone to wandering off at the supermarket. Waving over one of the other lifeguards you insisted that Billy was sick and needed to go home and that someone needed to cover his shift. They took one look at him and agreed, hurrying to the lifeguard chair.

Dustin and his friend curiously came over to see what was wrong, assuming at first that Billy was bothering you, telling you that Steve told them not to be scared of Billy.

“He’s fine, he's just a little… under the weather.” You said quickly. The boys looked dubiously at Billy who was staring into thin air.

“Oh I know what to do! He’s drunk.” Dustin said. Before you could stop him he shoved Billy into the pool. Billy toppled over and landed in the water with a splash. When he simply started sinking you, Dustin and his friends hurried to pull him out.

“What were you thinking?” You asked Dustin.

“I’m sorry! I’ve seen that done before. I thought it’d help sober him up.” Dustin said quickly. He gave you a sheepish smile as you pulled Billy out and let him lay down on the floor.

“What do you think you’re doing? If you want to sober him up fast, that’s not the way to do it.” You insisted. Dustin gave you an apologetic look. “Thanks for trying. Think you could grab my bag for me?” You asked. Dustin hurried to get it and his friends helped get Billy to his feet though they were reluctant to help him now he wasn't at risk of drowning. You put one of Billy’s arms over your shoulder and took him to the front desk.

“You have to give him the day off.” You insisted. The pool manager looked at Billy dubiously. The way he was now slowly dripping onto the counter seemed to help disguise the fact that he was now moving from drunk to hung over. “You can’t expect him to keep people safe like this.”

“Yeah! We could drown.” One of the boys, you thought was named Mike but you weren’t sure, said loudly.

“Fine. He can have the day off. But he has another shift in two days and he better be in for that.” The manager said. You smiled and nodded. Billy muttered something to you as you lugged him to his car. He stumbled along with you obediently. Leaning him against the passenger side of the car, you fished in his packet for his keys. Billy giggled and muttered something you took to be a dirty joke about you going through his pockets but you couldn’t make out what he had said due to his slurring.

“Here.” Dustin said as he hurried over with your things now showed haphazardly in your bag.

“Thanks. You guys are alright here on your own?” you asked.

“Oh yeah. We’re heading to the mall for lunch. Steve said we can try all the new flavours of icecream.” Dustin said and hurried off with his friends, sending a cheery wave your way as they went back to the pool. You put Billy in the car and got into the driver's side. Adjusting the seat took a few minutes but Billy was occupied by routing through your bag like a curious puppy.

“Where are we going?” Billy asked.

“To my house so you can sober up. Somebody drank all night then all morning and made himself sick.” You said sarcastically as you started the car.

“Was it you? Did you drink all night?” Billy asked and smiled at you when you looked at him.

“What do you think Billy?” You sounded unimpressed but Billy just gave you a goofy smile and poked the end of your nose.

“I think you were naughty and stayed up drinking.” Billy giggled uncharacteristically and you humed dismissively.

“I’m so glad you’re drunk because the last time you let me drive it made that crunchy noise and you were not happy.” You muttered. Pulling out of the car park you did your best to drive carefully to your house. You stalled the car a few times and managed to go up the curb when you tried to park on your drive. Billy had dozed off wearing your sunglasses while hugging your jacket. Thankfully he hadn’t noticed. Getting out you went round the car and managed to wake Billy just enough to get him inside.

You got him to drink a glass of water before you let him lay down on your sofa and watch some daytime TV as he dozed off. You used your sofa blanket to cover him.

“(Y/N)?” He called after a few hours of sleeping. You looked up from your book you’d been reading.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.” He said quietly.

“No problem. You better not get upset with anyone for any pool dunking… or car driving.” You mumbled wearily.

“Pool dunking? What’re you talking about?” He muttered as he reached for the fresh glass of water on the coffee table and sat up. You let out a relieved sigh until he looked over at you, squinting as if his head hurt. “Car driving? You better not have driven my car!”

“Well… you weren’t well… I had to get you here somehow.” You said quickly. He frowned at you but decided not to push it. “Oh you have a shift in two days and if you miss it you’ll be fired. You want some lunch?” You asked. Billy didn’t say anything as he lay back down and gave you a thumbs up in acknowledgement.

Billy tags:

@lisainhell @spiderwebs-blog @gryffindorqueensworld @rockyrascal @twerp8999 @theletterhart @boardstomymood @big-galaxy-chaos @greekktragedyy @ietss @alexxavicry @daughterofthenight117 @sarcasm-n-insomnia @multi-fandom5 @skylermoyer @justice-for-the-kaldorei @favmeyou @kaylantus @supernatural-wolfie @yougottalovefandoms @alwaysadreamingoptimist @love1deandra @archaeologydigit @im-eating-rn @bucketbunny @littlefreakingfangirl @hardladyheart @gillybear17 @lchufflepuffcorn

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #bonniebird

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stardewnoodles · 4 months

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Pico Jr. (Part 1/3) (Anon Comm)

“We need a pet. Something not so big that it can jump on everything and eat all we got, but not a parrot that’ll repeat the shit you say during sex. No Bulldogs, either, I don’t want to be known as the dick with the Toddler Eater 3000. Something that doesn’t eat the apartment would be rad. This shithole needs more life.”

“No dogs? Bunnies sound like a good choice, then. Wait, did you say ‘we’-”

“Good idea, Peeks! Ok, let’s go to the animal store or whatever-”

“Woah woah woah woah, slow down, Darnie! We are not getting a bunny! How are we gonna treat it? I can’t stay, I have… work.” Pico rubs his temples in frustration at the sudden destruction of his seemingly normal, balanced life. Minus the mercenary work. He rakes in $3,000 daily (at minimum) at the cost of never knowing when his last mission will be.

“Then let me do the shit cleaning and all that. You know money ain’t a problem. We need a bunny. Feed it carrots and watch it bite your ass. Upload it to XHub and it becomes famous for-.”

“This is a bad idea.” Pico rolls his eyes and puts his focus back on his target in the streets below. Carson Hayes, a millionaire whose wealth gave him the illusion of immortality, wears an orange suit every Tuesday night to eat at Terenzio’s on the outskirts of Newgrounds. The restaurant was famous for its luxurious, over-expensive, mind-melting Italian Pico wishes he could get his hands on. The bank wouldn’t give as much as robbing Terrance’s during its busiest night would. As tempting as it is, Pico has no interest in it. The untraceable bullet he loaded into the cartridge of his sniper rifle is worth 20,000 dollars, if he lands the shot. All things considered, that was cheap money for Carson. Two guards dressed in black follow forty feet behind him, and three walk in front of him in the shape of a triangle. His business on the surface is philanthropy and global healthcare. Pico frowned. It’s a front for the real meat and potatoes of his profits. Carson Healthcare supplies arms to underground criminal syndicates halfway across the world. That’s what his visits to foreign nations are for. In turn for helping crime syndicates suppress a population on the brink of a government overthrow, he gets boats full of gold delivered right to his back door. The big, national newspapers will hail it as a terrorist attack on a revolutionary, humble mind of the generation. What a joke. “This is the easiest trigger I’ve ever had to pull.”

“Then pull it already. I’m starving, and the compound I put on your bullet can only remove fingerprints for so long before melting the-” A quiet zip of air expelling from the sniper whistles in Darnell’s ear. A body slumps to the floor on the street. The boom of the sniper comes next, not audible to anyone outside of the block. Then the screams cause too much panic for anyone to know which murky shadow on the rooftops around them caused the assassination. Blood rushes down and mixes with the rest of Carson’s suit, creating the color of the sunset Newgrounds bathed in two hours ago. “Gun.” Carson Hayes, elimination bounty of 20,000 dollars, fanatic egotist, is deceased after writhing on the ground and choking on his blood for thirty seconds. Pico smirks as he exhales.

“Told ya. Easy trigger.” If he were still inexperienced, he’d bask in the raw chaos below. Those times have passed and the scars were there to prove it. Pico immediately disassembles his sniper and packs it in a violin case as neatly as time permitted. He adjusts his suit and bowtie so it doesn’t look messy. The band playing for Terenzio’s tonight would be wondering where their last two string players would be, who were tied up and unconscious on the first floor of the building. The two would be gone before anyone realized it was a part of the plan. Darnell, rolling a joint by the rooftop’s busted down door, tapping his foot on the ground to count how long the two had before the cops arrive, is calculating how much money he needs to steal from under Pico’s nose in order to buy a bunny. “We’ll split up. Take the road down Ferris Street and pass the train tracks to get back to the safe house.”

“Can we even call that dump a house?” Pico jostles Darnell on his way through the door and down the clanking metal steps. “We have so much money, why not get something better?!” “That’s too obvious, dumbass!��

“Love you too, Peeks! Fuckin’ A.” Darnell is the one rubbing his temples now, cursing under his breath. Red and blue overtook the gorgeous scenery Newgrounds was known for, desecrating it, like water to a fire. He waits until Pico’s footsteps recede–the ginger is on edge now, and Darnell trailing him only makes it worse–before stepping over the broken door and disappearing into the night.

+++

“Authorities have given no comment on who the shooter may be at this time, signaling that their only lead is the letter “P” written on the back of the fired bullet. They say that the trajectory means it came from a rooftop, so all buildings in the area of the crime scene have been evacuated. Newgrounds mourns the loss of the gentle millionaire Carson Hayes, who was shot and killed at the scene. In honor of his devotion to the city and beyond, his public funeral will be held at the city hall before his body is buried at the Flower Hill Cemetery. Auctions for various keepsakes from his manor will be donated during the ceremony afterwards. In his will, Mr. Hayes wrote that ‘My treasures should not be barred from this world if I were to pass, but rather spread amongst the people, as all things should be.’ We’ll have more details about tonight’s events on NNews 5 tomorrow morning at 7am. Back to you, Chris, on the weather.”

Darnell is blinded by the glow of the eight TV screens flashbanging his eyes. Someone forgot to dim the brightness, or maybe that’s the fault of only using his lighter to guide himself in the darkness. Their handiwork on the big screen, who would’ve thought. Clutching his hoodie to keep it up whenever people walked by, Darnell finds himself unable to tear his gaze away from the screens. Five minutes of fame, and then the weather, the same mundane shit people read up on every day. Does anyone even care? Pico, Darnell, Nene–an indispensable trio who do whatever the fuck they want for themselves with nobody else in mind. They all have body counts, sometimes even going for contests on who can take down a bounty first. Their skills are unmatchable and their determination is to the point of insanity. For all they have done, or will do, life has rewarded them with three WANTED posters in the Sheriff’s office. That’s it. Beyond that, to strangers, their lives mean nothing and should be snuffed out like putting molten aluminum in an ant hill. Darnell shouldn’t care what other people think–Pico would kill him for thinking naïve; of course this is the risk of their line of work–but how fucked are they if something happens to the three of them? No allies, no backup plans, no friends. Fond memories in bars and karaoke with the local rap star Boyfriend (albeit after they broke into the house) won’t cut it. They needed more. They needed a life beyond this mess.

A loud thump on the ground makes Darnell gasp and jerk his head to the left, fingers centimeters from wrapping around his special gold revolver and pulling it out to gun down the shadows. Minus the blaring TV’s, the streets remain calm, but the thumping continues.

“Ow!” A surge of pain out of nowhere makes him throw his leg up in the air. A tiny trail of blood and dirty water trickles down onto his sock. “Motherfucker-” Darnell pauses. “Oh.” Ferocious and clearly full of thoughts of world domination was the bunny trying to chew on his leg. The fur is brown, though Darnell deduces it’s likely a coating of dirt and whatever other muck the city throws around. With sharp teeth and blue eyes, the bunny senses it can't eat through Darnell’s skin and bounces off of him, leaving a small open wound behind. Darnell expects it to bounce away, but he sees that it’s too slow to even do that, taking a full minute to hop across a crevice in the sidewalk. Based on his position to the TVs, and the trashed alleyway next to him, the bunny must’ve been by itself there long enough to become willing to eat anything. It needs proper attention and care, or it will die by sunrise. Darnell weighs his options:

Make Pico pissed off that he decided to get a bunny off the street

Make Pico pissed off that he decided to get a bunny off the street, but Pico ends up liking it

Pico nurses the bunny back to health, because he would shoot a bullet at anything but small animals

The wound needs cleaning, anyway, Darnell thought. He shouldn’t run around with it for long, in case of an infection. Seeing the odds in his favor, Darnell cautiously approaches the bunny with both hands ready to clasp around it. The bunny thumps at him again, sniffing the wretched air coming off of Darnell.

“What? What? You wanna die out here in the streets? You wanna starve to death, little bro? I don’t think so. Stop being such a hardass.” Whether or not it understood is beyond Darnell, but the bunny inched closer until it laid itself in the palms of Darnell’s hands. It’s a miracle it survived this far. Bunnies, as far as Darnell knew, could die at being touched the wrong way. One stronger than that is a must have, and the solution is being cradled underneath his hoodie as he walks back to the safe house Pico and Darnell have been using for the last month.

+++

“Is that what I fucking think it is?” Pico looks up from the couch with disapproval in his hollow eyes. “It looks like its mom gave birth to it in a dumpster. Or a sewer. I don’t want anything to do with it.” Pico lies, keeping the composure of a cold-blooded, ruthless killer, who has no room for a sopping wet bunny. Darnell scowls back at him. His boyfriend is stubborn, believing distractions lead to a bullet in the head; if that is true, Pico would’ve never devoted himself to his ex for more than a year. “Just go clean it already.” Pico waves Darnell away. He stares absent-mindedly at the floor while the sink runs in the bathroom. He buries his face in his shirt and listens to the squeaking of the couch.

“Come on little guy- stop- hey! Ouch, man! Shit, you’re like a second Pico. As if one wasn’t enough.” The insult echoes from the bathroom and bounces around the walls of their tiny cabin in the woods. Owned by Pico’s grandfather before he passed, it was meant for hunting trips the family would go on every season, mainly late fall. Cobwebs decorate the corners of the walls with spiders stringing up helpless flies. The worn couch Pico sits on has a faded pattern of white roses. As a kid, he’d paint certain roses red where their thorns touched the petals of another. That was one of the more creative beatings, being slapped around by a wet paintbrush afterwards by a father who couldn’t understand why God didn’t give him a perfect son. Bet he’d be proud now; he took his father’s liking of killing to the next level and his remarkable ability to create grief wherever he walks. Darnell will be next to touch it, it’s just a matter of when. Pico furrows his brows, biting back screams of frustration.

Darnell is the only person keeping Pico sane. Life is a chemical imbalance without him that threatens to explode from instability. More elements introduced to the compound seem to re-stabilize it: Blue, Darnie, Nene, Cherry, Work, this bunny. Mere seconds of bloated hope and celebration before the erlenmeyer flask shatters into hundreds of tiny shards. The compound melts on the tiled floor and is deemed too dangerous to come into contact with other elements. The best form of protection is isolation. Look at what happens when you live like a normal dude , Pico thought to himself. A cycle of pain you think will be the good ending you want each time . You don’t deserve that. Darnell deserves better .

“Alright,” Darnell steps out of the bathroom with a blue bunny in his hands. He gently strokes the cleaned fur with two fingers between the bunny’s ears, which causes it to nuzzle itself against Darnell. “Say hello to Pico Jr.” Once again, Darnell refuses Pico’s nightmare of a life and molds it into the dream he fights off each day. Darnell shoves Pico Jr. at Pico’s face, and his woes absorb into the delicate blue fur, like Baby Blue did when they were still together. How happy his life must be without him. Pico gingerly scooped the blue bunny up from Darnell and laid it in his lap, stroking it behind the ears. The bunny sniffed his dusty shirt, then clung onto it with its tiny nails. Pico didn’t pay attention to the sound of the fancy cotton tearing, as he knew he’d burn this clothing by the end of the day, anyway. Climbing up Pico’s shirt, it fell back down after reaching his breasts. Pico snickers.

“Did you just laugh?”

“Did not.” Pico frowns, once again getting into a defensive position on the couch, cradling the bunny the same way he would with Darnell.

“You did. I saw that. You- you fucking laughed!” Darnell furiously points at him the way a cop waves a gun at anyone within a half a mile radius. Pico Jr. also points at Pico by brushing his shirt with a front paw. Pico lifts it up onto his shoulder. “Look at the little dude go.”

“Ow.” Using Pico’s hair as support, Pico Jr. nestled itself on the ginger hair, nibbling on loose strands. Pico didn’t move an inch, afraid it would become spooked and fly off. It smelled like vanilla and dish soap, thanks to Darnell’s vigorous efforts to clean it. Strangely, the scent brings back practice duets with his ex. Either his shampoo was vanilla, or he actually cleaned himself with dish soap and had no idea. Maybe he did. Pico scoffs.

“I know blue’s your least favorite color, but c’mon, it’s a cute ass bunny.” Darnell plops on the old couch next to Darnell. The springs squeak so loudly the two look to each other in momentary fear that the couch would collapse and they’d die with the sharp end of a rusty one hundred year old spring up their asses. The squeaking subsides and the two let go of their held breath.

“It’s a crazy one.”

“We’re crazier.” Pico sighs. Pico Jr. continues to eat his hair like carrot cake. “We don't need to take watches out here. No one but my family knew about this place, and whatever asshole currently owns the deed to the land or is a landlord or whatever. You take the bed.”

“You’re not joining me?” Darnell begins to undress in front of Pico, casually slipping out of his suit the way an angel would undo their robe before dipping their feet in the waters of heaven. His burnt physique always left the ginger speechless.

“I… need to watch the bunny. Uh, Pico Jr. That feels weird to say.” Darnell bends down so Pico can undo the tie for him. He throws it across the room before helping unbutton the white shirt. Two fingers trace along Darnell’s scarred, soft breasts. He presses against Darnell’s heart, listening to its quickening pace. Darnell swats his hand away. The exhaustion in his eyes shows he isn’t in the mood, but still doesn’t leave without giving Pico a kiss on the forehead.

“Consider it our kid. Then it won’t be so bad." That makes it worse for Pico, who blushes at the comment. "I’ll get food for it tomorrow. Stores won’t be open this late at night.” Pico places the bunny on his chest as he lays down on the couch. Too tired to get a pillow for his head, he opts to use the dusty blanket on the floor. Rolling it up and placing it behind his head, he finds it better than half of the sleeping situation he’s put himself in. Pico Jr. curls up and quickly closes its eyes for the night. Darnell shuts the loud, creaking wooden to the bedroom behind him. That leaves Pico staring absentmindedly at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep. His luck will run out again for him one day. He strokes Pico Jr. between its ears. Who’s going to pay for that when it does this time?

#I was giving the okay to post it so tada #fnf pico #picos school #pico newgrounds #darnell newgrounds #darnell #pico #commission #writing comms open

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wellthatwasaletdown · 2 years

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Wow. Look at those Harry stats. I know there are anons here who don’t live inside Harry’s butthole so their first language probably isn’t greedy fucker or homewrecking clown whore. If I may be allowed to translate the money math numbers and facts…

Here they be:

Payola, payola, payola

Billboard

Rolling Stone

Payola, payola, payola

2 - the number of children Harry fucked over and whose lives he destroyed

4 - the number of relationships he broke up

28 weeks - how old Harries think he is

3 - the number of knives he used to stab Liam, Louis and Niall in the back

0 - the number of times since CF that he publicly defended the women associated with him

1 - the number of celebrities he spit on (allegedly)

Nightly - when he spits on fans

2 - movies this year that he ruined because he can’t act

2 - the number of movies this year that he expected to get Oscars for

730 and counting - the number of days Harries have been waiting for Olivia to release Hostagerry

18 and more - the number of months that he held on to his fans’ money because he didn’t want to give them refunds

2014 - the official year he started single white femaling members of The Rolling Stones.

2014 - Harry believes he’s a rock star. Harries believe him

2012 - the year Victimrry was born

2020 - the birth of HO

Payola, payola, payola

Billboard

Payola, payola, payola

2 - black celebrity friends to show he knows poc. Covers plus size woc demographic at the same time

1 - rude motherfucker best friend. (Hello, James Corden, you knob)

2022 - RS declares Harry the new King of Pop; Harry doesn’t deny it

2022 - Old white man wears Harry is the King of Pop tshirt to a Harry concert. Harry is touched since he also believes he’s the new King of Pop. And Rock. Pop rock. He modestly bows as low as his enormous ego will allow him, says thank you and blows kisses.

28 - of October 2022, Michael Jackson’s son says to Harry, “Sure, Jan,” but only one person is the King of Pop - and it’s Michael Jackson

2022 - it turns out Harry is not a rock star. The TPWK line dance is born

5 - of September 2022. Harry speaks at VIFF. The world finds out he is a dumbass

23 - of August 2022. Harry Styles thinks gay sex is two men going at it. Reveals to the world the only time he’s probably ever touched another man’s penis for gay sex purposes is from wattpad stories. Continues to queerbait for lgbtq dollars. And just in case his fans find out he’s straight, doubles down on his toddler act, they’re the future buyers of his nail polish and sex toys

28 - his real age

45 - his facial age

3 - the number of hairs left on his head 🥚

Never ending - the number of times he larrybaits and queerbaits.

Unquenchable - his thirst for money

Immeasurable - his greed

20 - dollars for Gill’s sushi because a greedy motherfucker’s gotta do what a greedy motherfucker’s gotta do

2 - appears a lot on this list because Harry is a 2faced lying twat

The end.

####

Anon, this is the best post ever. LOL

#anonymous #submission #harry styles

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littlemisslol-fic · 2 years

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Day Six: Future

Summary: My submissions for Effin' Varigo week! Big thanks to battybatzgirl for setting it up! Hugo and Varian have been dating for three years, and are finally ready to take their relationship to somewhere a lot more serious. However, the world has other plans. With Hugo's proposal in shambles, and Varian focused on saving their friends, they think things can't really get any worse.

They would be wrong.

Prompts are Family ‧ Firework ‧ Fever ‧ Flirt ‧ Fight/Forgive ‧ Future ‧ and Free Day!

Notes: The problems come to an explosive finale

Hugo’s half ready to just give up and jump off the waterfall again.

They’d been dragged all the way back to the meadow. Hugo’s leg is fucking killing—even with the two goons holding him basically carrying him for the last mile. Varian was being pushed along right in front of him, bullied and jostled like an unruly toddler. It boils Hugo’s blood, but for once he knows better than to open his big, stupid mouth.

It’s hard. He wants to tell them to lay off, to scream at them to fuck off, get away from us, but he holds his tongue. Their hands are tied—literally and figuratively. The awkward feeling of having both arms tied behind his back also doesn’t help this whole situation.

Varian’s spine is tense when they arrive back at the meadow. It’s mostly the same, still beautiful and idyllic and calm, but there’s been obvious upheaval. Massive craters are scattered around, cutting through the grass and showing the dark, loamy soil underneath. Deep wounds across the earth. Even the sky today is much cloudier, cutting the sun in rolling shade. The cart is still there, though Max has been roped to a tree to keep the horse from running.

And before it all stands the Baron.

There’s no sign of the others. It’s both a blessing and a curse—they’re still in the meadow, but where? Are they okay?—but Hugo can’t help but focus on the massive man in front of them. He stands before the two… wait, two? Two carts.

Their wagon is there, yes, joined by what is very obviously a stolen police prisoner transport. Hugo will bet dollars to donuts that the princess, Eugene, and Lance are in there; the way multiple guards circle around it like vultures over a kill cements the thought.

The Baron smiles as they approach. The blond of his hair is like straw, thin and cracking in the wind. It’s obvious that he’s getting old, probably older than Donella, but the way his body bleeds strength makes him threatening to Hugo in a way most old men aren’t. It’s all capped off by a splatter of green sores that cover half of his face; they look painful, the infection constantly cracking the skin every time the man moves. Hugo swallows thickly at the sight.

He and Varian are shoved down next to the fallen tree. Hugo’s leg kills at the roughness; he has to bite his cheek to keep from crying out. At the very least they’re side by side again; Varian scowls up at the man holding them hostage—gods he’s so brave. Hugo personally feels ready to bury himself alive.

Varian’s arm is warm next to him. It’s the only comfort he has as the Baron strides forward and crouches in front of them. There’s a pregnant pause between the three of them. Varian’s obviously playing a game of wills, more of a who’s going to break first, but Hugo honestly just wants to curl up and die. Eventually the Baron sucks in a long breath, smiling widely. The noxious green skin cracks with the motion, the infected pores leaking nauseatingly. Hugo’s going to throw up if that keeps happening.

“Well boys,” the man says in his deep, gravelly voice, “you definitely gave my men a run for their money. It was clever to stay away from the river—but I guess I should have expected as much from you two.”

Varian doesn’t say a word. Hugo follows his example. Donelle had always told him to shut up during times like this, so… sure, let’s give it a try.

The man doesn’t seem upset by the silence. “Smart, yes, but not smart enough. Unfortunately you boys are going to be staying with us for a while, but don’t fret. I can be a gracious host.”

Hugo feels the body next to him tense. “Where are the others?” Varian asks.

“Oh, so you can talk.” The group around them laughs at their boss’s joke. “Why, are you looking for a family reunion? I suppose I can oblige.”

He waves a massive finger, like how one would call a waiter, and his men snap to attention. Hugo can’t see past the mountain of a man, but he hears a series of shouts from familiar voices and the noises of a struggle. Varian wiggles to try and see around their captor—whatever he sees must not be good. He goes frightfully pale.

The Baron stands, walking to the side. Hugo’s stomach sinks as their friends are dragged out from the prisoner carriage—had they been in there for the last two days? Horrifying—and are brought front and center. All of them are bound the same as Hugo and Varian are. Not good.

“Shit,” Varian whispers. Eugene spits something very UN-princely, kicking his feet and trying to take out anyone’s ankles he can reach. Rapunzel walks with dignity, or as much as she can have with her arms tied. Lance has just completely dead-weighted himself, content to let the thugs struggle to drag him through the dirt. What a king.

They end up knocked to their knees in front of the two alchemists. It’s not good. It’s not even close.

“Varian? Hugo?” Rapunzel looks so, so distraught to see them. “I thought I told you to run!?”

“Tried it, didn’t get very far.” Hugo sighs. He wiggles the foot of his fucked-up leg. “Got a bit of an owie.”

“Shit, kid.” Eugene sounds concerned. “That’s not looking so good, is it—?”

“Probably not. Can’t tell for sure.”

Eugene’s frown deepens, but any other conversation cuts off as the Baron makes himself known again.

“Well, now that we’re all here, first thing’s first. Search them.”

Hugo squawks at the feeling of hands patting him down. They quickly turn out his vest pockets, then his jacket—but then they reach his pants, meaning they’ll find…

Oh shit!

“Put it down!” Hugo snaps as one of the grunts pulls out the ring box. Hugo flicks a nervous glance at Varian, but thankfully his boyfriend is too busy trying to kick Weasel’s stupid hat off his head to really notice what’s going on with Hugo. Thank the Maker. His gaze flicks back to the goon in front of him and the heat of anger boils high as the man opens the box with a teasing look.

“Give it back,” the blond hisses. “I’ll fucking kill you—”

The goon only smirks and closes the box with a little snap. Hugo’s anger hardens into rage as the man stuffs the ring into his own pocket, tutting with a mocking tone. “Pretty ring,” he says, “should get me a good price. Should have taken better care of your things, boy.”

Hugo’s heart sinks as the ring disappears, and his future along with it. Fuck, fuck! He needs that back, needs to give it to Varian—fucking hell!

Weasel’s finished searching Varian, pulling out what looks like a few chunks of willow bark and the matches. The alchemist kicks at him, successfully hitting Weasel in the knee, before the man retreats with his meager gains.

“They’ve got nothing on ‘em,” the man says. The man who stole Varian’s ring stands as well, shrugging.

“Same here.”

Fuck. Fuck fuckity fuck. Hugo grits his teeth and levels as much of a glare as he can muster to the man. When he gets out of here, and he fucking will, that man’s dead. Dead. Hugo didn’t keep that little box safe through all this for it to get stolen. Not in a million years.

He shifts his good leg to try and relieve some of the pressure on the busted one, only to pause at the feeling of something in his boot. Oh. Oh holy shit.

The knife.

Varian had given him the knife back in the cabin. Hugo had stuffed it into his boot for safekeeping. And then man who’d searched them had missed it, too busy thinking about the ring. A wicked feeling springs up in Hugo’s stomach. They might not be out of the woods yet, but this?

This he can work with.

But he keeps it quiet for now. It’s not a good time—not with everyone watching. He’ll have to time it right… and then he can totally fucking murder the guy who stole his ring.

The Baron smiles down at the five of them. He looks like a miser counting gold; it puts a sick taste in the back of Hugo’s throat.

“With that out of the way, here’s how it’s going to play out,” the man rumbles. “I have unfinished business with Rider and Strongbow.” Lance and Eugene flinch at their names. “And as for the princess and Donella’s boy here, well I know a couple people who would give anything to have you two back in one piece.” The man laughs, focusing on Hugo with a smug grin. “How is ol’ Donella anyways? She’s been running circles around us for years; I can’t wait to see the look on her face once she finds out you’re in our company, boy.”

It makes Hugo want to scream, the idea of this guy threatening his mentor. Mother. Mom-tor. Whatever.

Either way, if Donnie gets a ransom note with Hugo’s name on it he knows she’ll pay it. She’ll bitch the entire time, but she’ll pay it. And then she’ll shake him so hard his brain will leak out of his ears. It’s not a favorable outcome for Hugo, and it’s one he’d like to avoid thank you.

It also looks like Varian had been right on the money. Rapunzel and Hugo for ransom, Lance and Eugene for a statement about double crossers… but Varian’s fate is still uncertain. It’s almost worse, not knowing.

Varian must have the same thought. He shifts awkwardly; his elbow bumps against Hugo’s just a brush, but it lights Hugo’s skin aflame. It’s also, unfortunately, enough to draw the Baron’s attention.

“And then we have the Alchemist,” the man says. The problem is, he doesn’t say it as an insult, like Hugo might have a thousand lifetimes ago. He says it like it’s praise. Varian flinches at the name like it’s a slap.

The Baron whistles a small tone. “You know, from the stories I thought you were bigger. And older.”

Varian bristles. “Sorry to disappoint.”

That gets a laugh out of their captor. “Eh, good things in small packages. For you, my young friend, I have a job.”

“Pass.”

If the Baron’s insulted, he doesn’t show it. “I’m afraid you don’t get much choice. Well we’d prefer you to agree, it’s not important. I have things I want made, and you’re going to make them. Easy.”

Varian’s face goes downright murderous. “I said I’ll pass.”

The Baron frowns, but it’s more mocking than an actual expression. “Such a shame. I guess Donella won’t be getting her boy back, after all.” He starts to draw a knife from his belt. Hugo shrinks at the sudden glare the man sends his way. Varian goes pale, flinching at the sight of the blade.

“Wait—” he stutters, “—wait, okay, fine! No one needs to get hurt.”

Eugene starts to say something, an argument surely, but he’s stopped when one of the grunts kicks him in the stomach. Varian’s eyes go wide, desperate.

“If you promise to let Hugo go, I’ll build whatever you want.”

The Baron smiles like it’s his lucky day. “Glad you had a change of heart. In that case, welcome to the crew, Alchemist.” He looks out to his men, all of whom snap to attention. “We’ll head out at dawn tomorrow,” the man announces. “Tonight, we celebrate.”

Hugo does his best to keep quiet. The knife in his boot burns with promise, with a looming presence. The blond takes another long look at the man with Hugo’s future in his pocket.

Oh yeah, tonight would be a celebration for sure.

——— ✧ ———

The sun sets slower than Hugo would hope.

The Baron’s men sure seem ready to party. While the man mostly retreats to his own caravan, his crew easily start to break out wine and gin, passing it around and getting steadily drunker.

Hugo testingly pulls at the rope around his wrists. No give, as expected—and even worse is that both he and Varian are tied to a tree that really has no chance of giving way. Varian, next to him, huffs with the movement as it pulls on his wrists.

“Ow,” his boyfriend whines. “What’s that for?”

“Trying to find a weakness,” Hugo mumbles back.

Varian seems content with that for an answer. He slouches into the tree and goes back to watching the nearest fire. The alchemist seems almost listless, so despondent in the face of being threatened into casual inventor-slavery. Hugo bumps his shoulder in solidarity before casting his gaze elsewhere.

Eugene and Co are tied around another tree. Lance, bless his soul, had tried to pull their tree right out of the ground—he’d failed, of course, but it was incredibly fun to watch. Rapunzel and Eugene are whispering to each other, who knows about what.

Around them the men continue to make merry and drink themselves stupid. The moon raises higher and higher in the sky, a ticking time bomb looming over them all.

Though it takes ages—too fucking long, waiting is like slowly grinding his own teeth into nubs—eventually the party begins to die. If Hugo had to wager he’d bet it’s around midnight, maybe later.

A majority of the men are finally falling asleep. They’ve passed out in large groups around the fires, lumped into somewhat normal sleeping arrangements. A few stragglers are wrapping up for the night at a distant fire, nearly twenty-five meters away.

Probably to keep from waking up the boss, Hugo thinks. It’s a good a chance as any.

He starts to wiggle. Slowly he manages to get his good leg awkwardly bent under him; his bound fingers just graze the top of his boot. Another inch or two should do.

Varian snuffles awake next to him. “What’re you… doing?” he mumbles. Adorable.

“Shh, sweetheart,” Hugo whispers, “I have an idea.”

That chases away the last of the sleep from Varian’s mind. “What? What idea?” At least he’s keeping his voice down.

“The knife,” Hugo breathes. “The one from the cabin. It’s in my boot. They missed it.”

Varian’s eyes go wide. “Oh shit.”

Hugo only smirks and wiggles his leg again. It’s closest to Varian, who also shuffles to give Hugo more lax on the rope keeping them tied to the tree. So close… just another bit…

“Fuck yes!” Hugo gasps as he tugs the pocketknife from his boot. “Maker above, it’s about time.”

It’s barely more than a whisper but Varian still shushes him. Hugo only smiles, deftly flicking the knife open and starting to saw at their bindings. It’s a little awkward, seeing as he’s doing it behind his own back, but he can make it work.

“See, I’m a great boyfriend,” Hugo mutters to himself, “who else can say they always have a stabby thing in their boot, huh?”

Varian snickers and presses a kiss to Hugo’s cheek. It’s a little awkward, but it’s more of a victory trophy than Hugo’s used to getting.

“You’re a fantastic boyfriend,” Varian grins, “And I’ll be sure to reward you if you can get us out of here properly.”

Hugo starts sawing like his life depends on it.

The ropes aren’t insanely thick. They fall away quickly, dropping to the dirt. Both Varian and Hugo breathe a sigh of relief as their wrists can finally return to their proper places—Hugo’s shoulders have been killing for the last hour or so.

“Okay,” he whispers. Hugo’s quick to pass the knife to Varian, who blinks. “Go free the peanut gallery and get them into the cart with Max. Hopefully We can book it before they all wake up.”

Varian’s eyebrows screw together. “What about you?”

“I have something I need to grab. Don’t worry about it, just focus on getting the others. Easy peasy, right?”

His boyfriend looks doubtful but nods all the same.

“Easy peasy. Sure.”

——— ✧ ———

Hugo’s a man on a fucking mission tonight.

He slips soundlessly through the group of men, searching. That motherfucker has to be here somewhere.

The face of the man who’d stolen his ring is burned into Hugo’s retinas. Hugo scans each grunt, looking for the one. The first ring of grunts is a failure, as is the second, but the third… there he is.

In the distance Varian’s already got the motley crew free. Hugo can see them all starting to pile into the cart. Eugene’s hooking up Max—and Hugo’s running out of time.

But the man’s here. Right in front of Hugo’s feet, sleeping like a baby. A drunk-ass, passed out baby. Delightful.

Either way. Hugo’s pretty sure the ring’s in one of the man’s coat pockets—easy enough to grab.

Hugo crouches. He winces at the pressure it puts on his busted leg, but he still starts to reach forward. There’s a lump in one of the pockets… surely…?

Behind him, Max snorts once. It’s not loud enough to wake anything, but it’s as much of a signal as Hugo will get. He needs to hurry.

His hands shake as he gets closer to dipping into the man’s pocket. What if it’s not in there? His what-if, lost to him like so much else.

His fingers dip into the man’s pocket. Hugo breathes a sigh when his fingers graze crushed velvet—only for the noise to turn into a gasp as the man snorts awake oh shit!

The grunt’s eyes blink in confusion for only a second before they zero in on Hugo’s horrified face. He snarls something about escaped but Hugo doesn’t stick around to listen. His fingers close around the box and he yanks his future out of the man’s pocket before turning to run.

There’s more shouting behind him. All the men are starting to wake up, alarm bells being rung. Horses bray.

But ahead of it all, Hugo focuses on a pair of frantic blue eyes and an offered hand leaning out of a familiar cart.

“Hugo!” Varian cries. No need to be quiet now. The others hover around Varian’s shoulders, shouting at him to run, asshole!

He’s never run so fucking fast in his life. Though his leg aches and his lungs burn, Hugo fucking runs, spurred on by the feeling of weight in the palm of his hand.

Varian reaches farther. Max startles and starts to move, slow enough for the blond to catch them but not enough to be caught.

They’re so close. Hugo’s only a few feet away from Varian; the alchemist looks so desperate as he reaches out, his hand splayed wide.

“C’mon!” Varian cries. His face is so pale, so panicked. “Hugo!”

The thief throws a thin hand out. It barely grazes Varian’s, so close yet so far—and behind him, he hears the shouting grow closer. Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck!

Varian looks ready to scream. Hugo tries one last time, putting his all into a final burst of speed. For a frightening second he thinks it’s not enough, that his fingers will just brush Varian’s and he’ll be left behind with the people who wish them harm, trapped like a rat in a nest—

But he feels warmth on his palm. A strong grip.

And Varian starts to pull. Hugo’s tugged right up and into the back of their cart, nearly toppling right over himself, but he’ll take a bit of discomfort for the feeling of solid wood under his face.

“Go, Max!” Eugene hollers from the driver’s seat. There’s an answering whinny before the cart jostles. There’s a swooping feeling, one of acceleration, before the trees beside them start to fly past. Hugo sucks in another breath, gasping after his run, and looks back with a small huff.

The Baron’s men are still in chaos trying to orient themselves. They’re like headless chickens, scattered and disorganized. It’s good; they’ll have much more of a chance of making it out of here if they’re not followed.

Hugo feels a set of hands on his shoulders and the world tilts. Suddenly he’s sitting upright, facing a frantic Varian.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Your leg?”

“Yep, nope, and owie,” Hugo grins. Varian looks half ready to strangle him but instead graces Hugo with a kiss on the cheek and a tight hug.

There’s another shout from the group behind them. It seems the Baron’s woken up, the man leaning out of his carriage and glaring at them. He’s getting smaller quickly as Max sprints away.

But they’re not out of the woods yet.

Literally and metaphorically; some of the men have finally gotten their shit together and are hopping on their horses. Their lead won’t last long with five people and a cart against one rider on a horse. They’ll need a distraction.

Varian seems to be thinking the exact same thing. He starts to paw under the benches, frantic. Hugo starts the same; they’d been in more than one cart chase before, thank you, they’re seasoned professionals by now. Under the bench Hugo’s hand hits wood, wood, more wood and—

Ting.

Metal.

His eyes widen at a familiar feeling. He tugs, pulling out the butchered version of project obsidian. Hugo lets out a wild, evil little giggle—he probably sounds deranged.

Varian’s head whips around at the sound. He knows it well. His eyes go wide at the sight of the gun.

“Oh,” he breathes. “Oh, that could work.”

Hugo lets an evil smile curl across his lips.

“It will indeed,” he croons. It’s with a quick movement that he settles the gun on his shoulder, aiming out the back.

Rapunzel and Lance quickly skitter to the other side of the cart, hiding behind the alchemists. Eugene doesn’t even register what’s happening. Probably better, the guy’s got enough to worry about. Thing are about to get so very explosive.

Hugo lines up his shot, waiting. Varian sits to his side, reaching over and flicking a lever or two.

“They didn’t even take the range inhibitor off,” he mutters. “Fucking amateurs.”

That gets another snicker. Gods Hugo almost missed this; a little destruction is always good for the soul. The cross section of the gun slowly lines up with the main path.

Hugo takes a deep breath and holds it. His finger wavers for only a second before he pulls the trigger.

The gun’s kickback isn’t a small one. The blond’s nearly knocked on his ass, but Varian offers a steady hand as a rocket bursts from the barrel. The fweeeeeeee-POP is so much louder this close to the thing—and the purple smoke is close to blinding.

In the distance, the sound of screaming.

As the smoke clears it’s easy to see that Varian’s settings made a hell of a difference. The path, once a flat, simple cut through the thick trees, has been totally uprooted. It must be a meter deep dip in the earth, cutting the entire road in two.

The horses of the Baron’s men all whinny in fear as their riders try to force them down it. A brave few try to jump the crater only to fall in. Hugo winces when one guy eats dirt falling off his horse.

“They’re not making it past that any time soon,” Varian says flatly. “Unless they want to hack through the brush and go around.”

“It’ll take ‘em hours,” Hugo agrees with a smirk. “What a horrible tragedy.”

“Just terrible.”

Rapunzel, bless her, only sighs. Eugene starts to curse up front, snarling, angry things about explosions and his old, frail heart. Lance laughs something belly-deep. The princess holds her hands out. Hugo obediently drops the gun into them; she shakes her head fondly.

“I can’t take you anywhere, can I?”

Hugo slouches back against the side of the cart. Max starts to slow now that they’re out of immediate danger. He grins at the princess and shoots her a couple finger guns. His future sits heavy in his pocket.

“Absolutely fucking not.”

#varigo #varian #effing varigo week #varian and the seven kingdoms #vat7k

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themculibrary · 2 years

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Tooth-Rotting Fluff Masterlist

Action (ao3) - EmilyWeaslette mj/peter N/R, 95k

Summary: Peter stepping into the limelight, as seen through videos.

A Little Hiccup (ao3) - Crazysnakelover T, 101k

Summary: While Peter was out patrolling as Spiderman, an incident occurs and something happens to him. Now he has to go to Tony for help, and their relationship will never be the same.

Shameless Irondad and Spiderson.

Bucky Barnes Has His Shit Together (and Other Lies He Tells Himself) (ao3) - betts steve/bucky M, 14k

Summary: You’d think a guy who owns one of the most successful bakeries in Brooklyn, has a million-dollar smile and that antiquated good ol’ boy charm, blond hair and blue eyes and biceps for days, would know what’s what.

But don’t let that fool you: Steve Rogers is a mess.

Choices (ao3) - Potrix bucky/tony T, 7k

Summary: New York has changed but, simultaneously, it’s still the same in all the ways that count; everyone’s always in a hurry, bustling about hectically, smells from all kinds of foreign places waft around the food carts decorating the streets, the subways are packed and people are laughing, talking and yelling in every language imaginable.

What’s different is Steve, or more the somewhat shocking discovery that he has gone and gotten himself a kid.

Anthony Edward Stark.

Tony’s Howard’s son, but Bucky wouldn’t have guessed if he hadn’t known, what with the way Steve is with Tony, treats him, acts around him. Steve has adopted himself a stray and it’s so typical, Bucky can’t do anything but watch and grin to himself as Steve lifts Tony right off his feet and into a bone-crushing hug, bags dropped at his sides and completely forgotten.

close to my heart, never to part (ao3) - parkrstark T, 63k

Summary: During patrol one night, Peter comes across something that leaves him and Ned dumbfounded. The next morning, Ned is dropping off a now two-year-old Peter at Tony’s. Not only does he have to figure out how to turn him back, but he must watch him. Tony wonders what he’s supposed to do with the now toddler-Peter for the next two weeks…until he slowly starts to wonder what he will do without this boy after the two weeks are over.

Don't Freak Out (ao3) - Sarah_Sandwich harley/peter T, 136k

Summary: Getting kidnapped isn’t usually the best way to start your summer (especially your last summer before college) but honestly? It kinda worked out.

Don't Say It (ao3) - InkDippedFingertips tony/stephen G, 1k

Summary: Stephen is sick and Tony is exasperated.

I'm In Luck (ao3) - steveandbucky steve/bucky T, 697

Summary: Steve is sketching a handsome stranger on the train, and gets caught. Luckily, the man doesn't mind.

On the Count of Three (ao3) - Potrix T, 2k

Summary: Tony whines. “Truth spell?”

“Truth spell,” Bruce confirms, giving Tony’s arm a consoling pat.

perfectly right wrong number (ao3) - melonbutterfly steve/bucky T, 31k

Summary: It all starts because Steve is too dumb to handle his smartphone.

A wrong number AU in which Bucky Barnes doesn't enter Steve's life (meaning: Bucky wasn't born until the eighties, but Steve is still Captain America) until Steve accidentally dials the wrong number. Wherein there is a lot of texting, some advice via Natasha and Darcy, a bit of pining, and a first date in an amusement park. Oh, and on top of being a disabled veteran, Bucky is a professional catwalker. Literally.

Scaled Down Spider (ao3) - AnabelleBlack20 pepper/tony G, 11k

Summary: "What the hel—"

He abruptly shut up when he heard the sound of his own voice. He hadn't sounded like that since... forever.

Peter threw his covers off, kicking them away aggressively and ran to the full length mirror next to his wardrobe.

And he screamed.

The 1 Time Some Avengers Didn't Believe Tony Was Father Material And The 5 Times They Were Proven Wrong (ao3) - thisisnotourlasthunt T, 7k

Summary: It didn’t matter what the others said about him, he was going to be the best fucking father to his son.

the cold never bothered me anyway (ao3) - icoulddothisallday steve/bucky E, 75k

Summary: Bucky Barnes has spent his whole life in a state of mild hypothermia. Steve Rogers has spent the last 70 years in the ice. The two things aren’t related until, suddenly, they are. Shrunkyclunks soulmate AU (AKA the awkward bb au).

Tony Stark, Genius, Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist and... father? (ao3) - Penny4yourThoughts T, 21k

Summary: Tony had been acting kind of off lately… The Avengers try to figure out what is going on, but what they find out is not what they had expected

Or in short: Tony acting strange because he is hiding his son from the avengers

tony stark has a heart (ao3) - mjscorner pepper/tony G, 136k

Summary: When Tony finally took his final, heaviest step through the threshold that the nurse had led him, every thought and every doubt fell silent in his head.

Suddenly Tony was glued to the rainbow-tiled floor of the pediatric wing, about as unmovable as a statue.

They'd never met, but he knew him.

That was Peter.

Tony Stark's Favourite Intern (ao3) - inkinmyheartandonthepage G, 2k

Summary: All the interns know that Tony Starks favourite intern is Peter Parker. So when Peter's class shows up and they forget to tell Peter about it, all the interns know to make themselves small and quiet as possible. Hell hath no fury like Tony Stark's potentially-adopted-son-but-are-still-waiting-for-confirmation being forgotten.

#themculibrary #mcu #marvel #fluff #toothrottingfluff #toothrottingfluff masterlist #masterlists

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ablogwithoutacause · 6 months

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Jokes are made about babies or toddlers suddenly gaining consciousness… but it seems that after years goes by we tend to become unconscious once again. The rudimentary lifestyle of eat sleep work may cause us to coast on autopilot… and when things go bad all we’re used to doing is eat sleep work, but now with a negative outcome. Today i gained consciousness once again. Today i looked at the heavens and thanked the most high for my life. For the good and the bad, because those are the experiences that make me who i am. Wether i sleep in the truck of my car or on a thousand-dollar mattress, I’m just as valuable to him on either option. Wether i have $30,000 or 3¢ I’m worth the same to him. He didn’t intend for our lives to be this way… yet he gave us the tools to get by. He didn’t allow for suffering to be a part of our plan, yet he gives us comfort.

This doesn’t come easily… numerous times we’re told, we must become spiritual men. It makes sense now… carnal, belongs to Satan, imperfection does not glorify God, so it must mean we represent Satan himself. Jesus once called Peter himself, Satan… due to his imperfect thinking. So if we’re born carnal men, our goal should be to become spiritual men. This is only attained by overcoming our nature, and truly relying on God. It doesn’t come easily. It doesn’t come when we want it to happen. It comes when we’re ready. Once Jehovah has allowed specific things to happen to us. Since we’re all different we all need different levels of convincing. Which makes it interesting… if this is true (and we know it is), we can love the same God, and come to him from different backgrounds, different levels of prior sufferance. Some may need a little more scars to validate their faith. Some can accept without undergoing as much turmoil.

The last sentence makes me chuckle a bit due to how lax man-kind has become with the meme usage of “God gives his toughest battles to his strongest soldiers”. Which is not a scripture, but the world has believed for a while that the mantra is. Although it is not scripture, it is true. This does not mean that I’m priding myself in all the bad things I’ve done or have happened to me in order for me to be where i find myself now. What it means is, without all those things that happened, i wouldn’t be as appreciative to the most high, as i am now. It was necessary for me to undergo said things, in order for me to understand God’s love. Those who will stick around me after the cleansing, and changing of garments, will be the ones who i will appreciate. It’s vital to clothe in Christ. It took me a while, but i got the message. From now on, I will walk in faith and honor God.

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longtrade · 2 years

Text

Drill man rumble

Captain Man looks up and sees it's the Toddler. Captain Man, alone, goes to the bar, and the bartender gives him a drink, saying the man at the end gave it to him. As a result, all the villains in TBD attack Captain Man at once.Ĭaptain Man crawls out of the pile, and the villains start fighting each other, as Kid Danger fights Kyle. Jasper takes the Man Pad and starts swiping right on all of the villain profiles, but he doesn't change the fight time. Captain Man calls Charlotte and asks if Piper can come to pick him up, as Kid Danger was having too much fun fighting Kyle. Just then, Kyle arrives, and he starts fighting Kid Danger. After realizing that a loser villain had catfished him, Captain Man is upset and wants to go home. Captain Man and Kid Danger go to TBD, and they see the Lawn Ranger, who looks nothing like his picture. Henry makes a profile for himself and decides to swipe right on the first one: a villain named Kyle. Ray swipes right, and they set up plans to fight at TBD: The Beatin' Dungeon. He swipes left on all of them until he finds the Lawn Ranger, a villain who he had a 97% match with. Ray starts to look through the villain profiles with Piper and Henry. Pretty soon, Captain Man starts getting matched with a bunch of villains who want to fight him. Ray decides to try it out in the Man Cave, Schwoz takes Captain Man's profile picture, and they publish his profile on Rumblr. Piper then recommends that Ray start using Rumblr, an app that was like a dating app, but it was designed to match heroes with villains. Ray doesn't care, saying that he was tired of fighting the same villains over and over. Henry, Charlotte, and Piper arrive in Junk-N-Stuff and tell him that the Toddler just escaped from prison. She then steals it, but Ray doesn't care, saying he’ll steal another robe. An older woman offers Ray two dollars for his robe, and Ray agrees. Continued abuse of our services will cause your IP address to be blocked indefinitely.Ray is sloppily eating cereal in Junk-N-Stuff. Please fill out the CAPTCHA below and then click the button to indicate that you agree to these terms. If you wish to be unblocked, you must agree that you will take immediate steps to rectify this issue. If you do not understand what is causing this behavior, please contact us here. If you promise to stop (by clicking the Agree button below), we'll unblock your connection for now, but we will immediately re-block it if we detect additional bad behavior. Overusing our search engine with a very large number of searches in a very short amount of time.Using a badly configured (or badly written) browser add-on for blocking content.Running a "scraper" or "downloader" program that either does not identify itself or uses fake headers to elude detection.Using a script or add-on that scans GameFAQs for box and screen images (such as an emulator front-end), while overloading our search engine.There is no official GameFAQs app, and we do not support nor have any contact with the makers of these unofficial apps. Continued use of these apps may cause your IP to be blocked indefinitely. This triggers our anti-spambot measures, which are designed to stop automated systems from flooding the site with traffic. Some unofficial phone apps appear to be using GameFAQs as a back-end, but they do not behave like a real web browser does.Using GameFAQs regularly with these browsers can cause temporary and even permanent IP blocks due to these additional requests. If you are using Maxthon or Brave as a browser, or have installed the Ghostery add-on, you should know that these programs send extra traffic to our servers for every page on the site that you browse.The most common causes of this issue are: Your IP address has been temporarily blocked due to a large number of HTTP requests.

#Drill man rumble

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sukunasbabymama · 2 years

Text

First words.

↳ Pairing. First-generation of Black Dragons.

↳ Summary. Founding black Dragons members reaction to their child saying their first words.

↳ Warnings. None.

↳ Note. For the sake of these headcanons let's just say that Izana, Sanzu, and everybody else is in the picture.

Request.

Shinichiro Sano.

He was so excited to know what was gonna be his child's first words, maybe his name or your name.

It never crossed his mind that their first word was gonna be his little brother's name, and not because it was a crazy thing to happen, but because he thought that his brothers didn't even like kids?

You were talking with Emma about which outfit would be better for the aquarium trip yall were gonna have while your child was playing with Mikey and Izana on the floor.

“Zana…” They say, lifting their little arms for their uncle to take them in his arms.

“Oh, would you look at that? Izana?” You giggle. “Love! They have just said their first word!”

Shinichiro has never run so fast into the room, almost tripping on his own feet and everything.

“W-what did they say?” He asks excitedly.

“Zana.” You say with a teasing smile and he groans while falling on his knees.

“Izana? But I’m your dad!” He fakes a cry. Your baby giggles at his dad. “C’mon baby say dada.”

“Zana! Zana!”

He just completely falls on the floor and hugs his legs.

Takeomi Akashi.

It doesn’t matter the business he has that day, he always makes time to talk to his child.

It can go from telling them stories about you guys to stories about his friends to stories about his pain in the ass aka Sanzu.

And oh boy, he talks about Sanzu like he’s getting paid for it, and it doesn’t help the fact that Sanzu goes religiously to your house to spend time with his child.

“Haruchiyo, hold them while I put on their hoodie.” You tell your brother in law.

“Haru~ Haru~” Your child says, clapping their little hands and moving from side to side. Sanzu laughs and starts swaying them softly.

Your husband doesn’t laugh. Matter of fact, he’s giving the three of you a judgmental stare from the couch.

“I can’t believe this.” He groans with a smile because still, he is happy that his baby is starting to talk.

“At least they didn’t say Shinichiro.” You shrug and he laughs.

Wakasa Imaushi.

His nickname was easy already and since he takes his child a lot to his gym they hear everybody shouting it. Especially Benkei.

So of course, his child's first words were his nickname.

Now, the situation for them to say it was quite… the situation.

You enter the gym just in time to see your husband training someone while Benkei was holding your child.

“Why is my child watching you punch people, Waka?!” You shout, walking faster to where Benkei was. “Waka!”

“Waka!” Your child shouts, lifting their little fist.

The room gets silent, Wakasa is looking at his child with a million dollar smile while you’re smiling sweetly.

“Waka!” Benkei says, encouraging them.

“Waka!” They say happily.

Okay, you’re not gonna give your husband a hard time. For now.

Arashi Keizou.

It happened when he was alone with his baby, and it wasn’t their first words, it’s just the first time he heard them.

Your baby is known for being a shy toddler, a little calm for their young age and that’s why their father hasn’t heard them since he never forces them to do anything.

He felt all kinds of emotions when he heard it, because yeah, you told him that your baby started saying some words, a little later than other toddlers, but he hasn’t had the opportunity to hear it in person.

He was walking to the gym with them in his arms, both of them with a popsicle in hand when suddenly the baby’s popsicle fell to the ground.

“Oh…” Benkei whispers, waiting patiently for the crying.

Instead, he is just met with his baby with tears in their eyes but no screamings.

“Sawwy…” Their lips tremble.

Benkei stops walking and looks at them with wide eyes, but he doesn’t let the shock stop him for too long.

“It’s okay baby, you don’t have to say sorry. It’s okay.” He hums. “Here, take mine, you like grapes?”

“Tank you.” His whole body trembles in emotion, a big smile on his face.

He turns around, walking back home cause he needs to tell you now.

🏷: @satmitsuplanet @milliumizoomi @dai-tsukki-desu @haitanigigi @yunho-leeknow @melaninnntae @keimisan @welkinmoongrab @plutosexc @ccxiia @manjiroarchiviste @aasouthteranoswife @crushsoli @gwynsapphire @eriskaitto @crapimahuman @inu1gf @q-the-rockaholic @the2ndl @sscarchiyo @lordbugs @izanasqueen @nevess @ravenina14

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lovelybarnes · 3 years

Text

baby blue- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, tony stark bruce banner, steve rogers, sam wilson warnings: child bucky, language, this is long. why is this so long about: requested by @cherry-season (apparently can't tag you)! bucky turns into a baby/toddler and is clingy a/n: okay so i know virtually nothing about three-year-olds. can you tell? thank you so much for requesting!! I had so much fun writing this <333

[@tylard-blog1]

bucky’s day wasn’t particularly fantastic to begin with.

he was already exhausted when he woke up in the early lights of the morning, his nightmares had kept him up all night-- which you theorized was due to the mission the day before that took place in one of the same hydra bases bucky had been held in. you had frowned when you realized it the day of, turning your attention to bucky and making sure he was okay with it because if he wasn’t, you would make sure someone else took care of it. he had insisted it was fine, even though the next night proved him wrong. you had done what you could, running your fingers through his hair and humming lightly until you fell asleep and he refused to wake you up, resigning himself to a sleepless night.

his morning started with his flesh arm reaching out to feel your side of the bed, hoping to find your soft, warm skin to pull you closer, but instead being met with the unkind sheets that missed the gentleness of your body. he had frowned when he realized you had already left for a meeting with some important hotshot in space with carol (you couldn’t find a better excuse to go get breakfast at your favorite alien restaurant with your favorite aliens) and wouldn’t be back for a solid few hours too long. groaning, and with no real reason to stay in bed for any longer without the excuse of getting to feel you for a few more hours, he dragged himself out of bed.

it didn’t get much better from there, because he was greeted with the sight of sam eating the last bowl of the last box of cereal in the whole damn tower because everyone rejected to go grocery shopping. since bucky refused to eat any of the frozen breakfasts tony loved so much and the stark kid swore were “the best thing ever,” he grunted at sam and walked away without eating, knowing he’d regret it later when his stomach would growl and you would immediately know he skipped breakfast.

for some unknown reason, tony had found out about bucky’s lack of things to do, and with a few winks and manipulative large-worded engineering phrases, convinced him to join him in the lab, which bucky had only really been able to see through the clear glass that separated the lab from the rest of the tower, and from the occasions where he would take food and drinks to you while you locked yourself away inside, building something alongside tony.

being inside, so close to the various machines and objects bucky cant begin to figure out the purpose of, his memories of being in school and at the top of his math and engineering classes bubble to the surface, filling him with the pride he remembers having every day at school. the thought that he could probably understand everything if you or tony explained it to him passes through his mind and urges him to ask tony to do just that, but tony beats him before he can get the chance.

bruce is eyeing them wearily from the other side of the lab, attention mostly on the test tubes in front of him. he gives bucky a smile when he comes in, but seems to ignore him for the most part until tony shows bucky to bruce’s work station, pointing out a blue liquid in a test tube marked TESTING. bruce’s neck snaps to them when tony open his big mouth, “you know, y/n was actually supposed to test something out for me today,” tony begins innocently, a suggestion laced in his words that bucky catches but decides to ignore because of the high he feels from understanding the equations scribbled on the clear glass, “do you know where she is?”

bucky narrows his eyes at him, then looks up at the clock, realizing it’s still a while before you get back, “not even on earth,” he recipes blandly, slyly sneaking a glance at the liquid for any indications of what it could be.

tony sighs dramatically, his shoulders sagging, “oh no, how do i test this now?” bruce shoots tony a warning glance that is blatantly ignored.

bucky’s shrugging before he can help it, the reminder that since you were going to do it, what could be the harm if he did? “i could do it.”

tony claps, “great!” he gestures to a door behind him, “please go in there to sign non-disclosure agreements and wash your hands.”

bucky’s shoved inside before he can fully understand the implications of his stupid offer.

the thought of asking the basic questions he should have asked before he agreed to test an unidentified liquid comes to bucky nearly an hour later, when the small vial of weird blue liquid sits in front of him, waiting to be drunk. tony and bruce sit in chairs a couple of feet away, clipboards in both of their hands, and interested expressions settled on their features.

“what does this do again?” he asks, squinting at the vial that he doesn’t notice tony isn’t looking at, furrowing his eyebrows when tony waves him off, “something super smart. no side effects or anything.” bucky’s eyes flit down to the little vial again, before they nearly bug out of his head at the humongous laser that is rolled into the room, “what the hell is that.”

“ah,” tony grins, bouncing from his seat to stand next to his invention proudly, “this is what you’re testing out.” bucky cocks his head at the man, “i thought i was drinking blue water. y/n was going to drink blue water.” tony shakes his head, adjusting some dials on the machine, “yeah, no, it was this. pretty sure i told you.”

“you didn’t-” bruce is looking at tony in concern, about to tell him to slow down so bucky has a chance to think all this through again and maybe ask if there is any chance the laser will melt him, when tony clicks a large red button and a bright white light clouds bucky’s vision just as he sees the clock on the exact same time he saw an hour ago, realizing the clock in the billion-dollar lab is broken, and you’re probably getting home any second.

“tony!” he hears bruce yell before his vision goes dark.

it’s only a second until he can pry open his eyes again, a hand curling into a fist, ready to pound stark into tomorrow when he can suddenly feel the nails of his hand digging into his palm. the surprising feeling of it where his vibranium arm should be forces him to look down at a small arm, fully skin and thin. he looks around, noticing his surroundings suddenly have grown very large around him, and the sound of his voice is higher when he tries to speak again.

“what the f-” he mumbles, cutting himself off when a sudden memory of his ma yelling at him to wash his mouth out if he wants to talk like that floods his mind, and he stares down at himself, eyebrows furrowing when he spots his short stature and the tiny hands and feet that look up at him. realization floods him like a wave, raising his chin at the two, tall, gobsmacked men in front of. “was that supposed to happen?” bruce asks quietly, nodding slowly when tony shakes his head, “no.”

there’s a light knock at the door, your hand pushing it open before anyone can stop you, and your tired face peeks in, a glowing smiling adorning your face and your eyes searching for your boyfriend, “hey, do you guys know where bucky is-” your voice cuts through the stunned silence, pausing when you catch the little boy’s eye. at first, you stare at him, your eyebrows pulling together as you get a good look at the familiar cerulean of his eyes and scan the clothing you’d seen on bucky before. for a second, everything is silent, bucky’s eyes are wide and staring as yours bore into them, searching for something you’re nearly touching until you gasp, “bucky?” you choke, reaching for him when he nods, his legs already trying to reach you as fast as they possibly can but they buckle. bucky realizes just then how old he must be now. “oh, baby,” you murmur, gathering him up in your arms before he can fall to the hard ground of the lab. “what the hell did you idiots do to my boyfriend?” you demand, turning to the two scientists who are going over tony’s notes.

bruce glances at tony, tilting his head at him as if to say him. you roll your eyes, not having any more information than when you asked, “tony?” you growl, walking over to the man, not missing the way little bucky’s hand grabs onto your shirt.

“it didn’t- that wasn’t supposed to happen,” tony defends weakly, a lazy shrug pulling at his shoulders. your eyes flash with velvet red, and, without moving a finger, tony’s pulled in front of you, wrapped in red swirls bucky can’t help but gawk at.

“fix it.” you order. tony nods, pursing his lips, “we’ll do that.” bruce looks a little taken aback, looking up from tony’s scribbles and equations. “i don’t think it’ll last more than a day,” he offers helpfully, “whatever it was tony was trying to do wasn’t either.”

bucky’s eyes start to droop, which he assumes is an effect of the sleepless night he just had on his infant body, something that usually wouldn’t affect him in his one-hundred-and-six-year-old self. he hums when he realizes the irony, leaning his head against the welcoming crook of your neck and catching your attention. you turn to him for a moment, softening a little before turning back to tony and glaring at him, “fix it.”

steve catches you when you walk out of the lab, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head when he spots the toddler in your arms, “holy shit, that looks exactly like bucky,” he breathes, scanning the dark mussed-up hair and stepping back when bucky opens his eyes. from next to him, sam looks from bucky to you, “did you two have a kid and not tell anyone, because this-”

“is bucky. that’s bucky.” you interrupt, looking at the toddler, “tony messed up with something and… this happened, i don’t completely… bucky’s a baby.”

steve raises an eyebrow, squinting at his best friend, “ha,” he laughs, “wow, he looks exactly like his pictures. he must be about three years old.” bucky blinks at him. “his ma said he was chatting up a storm at that age, though,” steve informs, looking back up at you. sam grins, “has he said anything? i kinda want to hear if he still sounds old.” bucky frowns at him, his pout deepening when sam bursts into laughter, “his grumpy face is the same!”

you look at your boyfriend, tilting your head and smiling a little when you realize he’s right, “you’re cute,” you coo now that you get a good look at him, “you’re so cute,” you murmur, poking his nose with your finger. bucky can’t help the blush that comes to his cheeks. but he slaps away sam’s fingers, scowling at him, “no.” he argues, “no.”

sam frowns, “no old man voice.”

“i hate you,” bucky says to sam, and you laugh, “i think we should leave for now. i need to figure out what will make three-year-old bucky not as grumpy.” sam looks at bucky’s furrowed brows and the same two little lines between them, his eyes flickering back up to yours, “i think that may just be a bucky thing.”

you bring bucky to the living room, sitting him down at the edge of the couch and crouching in front of him, watching him and his little crossed arms, bottom lip jutted out against his own will. bucky isn’t used to the emotional control of a child who’s three and can’t control the frustration that’s coursing through him at the moment. the only thing he knows for sure is that he doesn’t want you to leave him again.

“bucky?” you start, looking deep into the wide blue eyes that let you know it is bucky you’re speaking to. “what do you want to do? are you hungry? d’you want to sleep?” bucky shakes his head stubbornly at you, “i want tony to fix this.”

you sigh, “i know, baby. i do too, but until he finds a cure to this, you’re gonna stay small for a couple more hours.” he pouts at that, and you smooth your thumb over his cheek, “no pouting. we can do whatever you want, buck.”

just as he’s about to reject any idea you have, his stomach rumbles loudly, directing your attention to the arms that guiltily cover up his middle. “bucky... did you eat breakfast today?” you query, a lecturing tone sneaking into your words. “sam ate my cereal,” bucky grumbles, crossing his arms.

“bucky!” you exclaim, standing up to turn to the kitchen, “that’s no excuse. i told you you needed to eat--” you’re barely three steps into the kitchen when you hear the pattering of his feet towards you, grubby hands pawing at your legs.

“don’t leave,” he whines, hugging your ankles and sitting down on the floor, “you left all morning,” he mumbles, smushing his cheeks against your calf.

“i’m sorry,” you apologize, bending over to brush away the hair that falls over his eyes. “c’mere,” you murmur, reaching down to pick him up again and bounce him on your hip while you head to the kitchen. “what do you want to eat?” bucky thinks about it for a minute, before smiling, “i want pizza and ice cream.” you frown at him, “i don’t think three-year-olds can eat that. actually, i don’t think anyone should.”

after consulting google on what three-year-olds should eat, you have bucky’s head resting on your shoulder, refusing to let you put him down even as you made him the mac and cheese he had agreed to, still a little upset over the fact you wouldn’t let him eat all the other things he wanted. the only time he let you not carry him was when he was eating, still insisting you sit right next to him to watch as he smeared cheese all over tony’s expensive table.

“okay,” you whisper breathlessly after watching him eat his third bowl of the meal, “i think that’s good.” you shove the dirty dishes in the sink, washing bucky’s hands and wiping at him cheeks with a warm cloth to get the mess he managed to create off. “did you forget how to eat?” you wonder aloud when you finally fnish cleaning him up, watching his small shoulders shrug.

“what do you want to do now? anything you want,” you propose.

“i want you,” he says, reaching his stubby arms out, “cuddles. ‘m sleepy,” he yawns, making grabby hands at you when you take too long to pick him up. “bucky,” you chuckle, complying with him and bringing him into your chest, where he leans his head on your shoulder. “you sure you don’t want to play or something? you don’t want to…” you trail off, trying to think of what three-year-olds do, “walk or read or something?”

bucky grunts in your ear, his eyelids already closing again, “cuddles,” he repeats, balling your shirt up in his little hands.

“okay,” you sigh, bouncing him gently while you walk to your shared bedroom. you pick up a stuffed animal you brought for bucky from one of your most recent missions, “did you sleep last night? is that why you’re so tired?” bucky hums, cuddling further into your chest when you lay down with him on top of you. you hand him the little dog plush, pressing a kiss to his head when he takes the gift, hugging it with you. “honey, i’m sorry,” you frown, gently threading your fingers through his short hair, humming the same song bucky sings to you when you can’t get to sleep. it doesn’t take long to lull him into the calmness of rest.

you only wake up when the weight on you is suddenly multiplied, completely taking your breath away, “bucky!-” you exclaim, rolling from underneath him to meet his closed eyes. you shake your head with a light laugh, drawing a strand of hair behind his ear before you press your lips to his cheeks, snuggling in with him again, “sweet dreams, darling,” you murmur, placing the stuffed animal he dropped on your dresser.

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years

Text

Adjustments

When Y/N is getting tired of staying at home with the baby while Harry tours.

word count: 5k

contains: sexual content, language, a dash of angst

It was still early but Harry didn’t mind. When he was on tour he craved sleep like no other. To be in his bed, spooned around his love, and no alarm set.

However, the deep desire for sleep is just a faraway thought now because he’d rather be sleep deprived and wake up to his curly-haired baby any given day.

He looks to you. Mouth slightly open, face stress-free, and peaceful. Harry hated coming home from tour to see the bags of exhaustion under your eyes from taking care of the baby all by yourself.

He constantly had to swallow back guilt. He tried to do everything to make it up when he was home.

Harry didn’t find touring as exciting and fun as he use to. He sometimes counts down the tour dates until he’s home.

Sometime he can’t wait for the concert to wrap up so he can sneak in a quick FaceTime before you lot head off to bed.

Sasha was two, her birthday near days away, and Y/N had been running around like a mad-woman trying to make sure her party would be perfect.

Y\N sometimes held herself to the exceptions of other celebrities wives. Ballon arches, custom cookies, and beautiful decorations.

However, unlike other celebrities, you did this all yourself. No event planner, nobody except Anne and Gemma.

Harry wants you to sleep as much as possible and allow you the luxury he gets on tour. Sleeping in until noon sometimes in the empty, cold hotel room with nothing else to do.

He can hear Sasha babbling incessantly from her little bed. The little yellow railings preventing her from falling out or escaping.

Harry heaves himself off the bed, tugging on some sweatpants that had been thrown off hurriedly when you’d told him you’d been wet for him since he walked in the door last night.

“Hi, hi little love,” Harry murmurs as he opens the door to her bedroom. The yellow flowers hand-painted from the wall setting the theme for the room.

Sasha was a good baby and an ever better toddler. However, almost as a little teenager, she sure did have her mood swings. They weren’t quite out of the terrible twos stage yet.

She wanted her mom as she stood there.

“No, mummy,” Sasha whines, tugging on Harry’s cross necklace with force after he scooped her up.

“Hey, we don’t do that. Remember we treat people with kindness.”

After a promise of chocolate chips in her pancakes, she agrees to help Harry cook you breakfast.

It was messy and his bare chest was covered in flour. Not quite sure how the little girl had gotten it into her curls but they were managing.

Harry loved watching Sasha play with the cooking utensil. Smacking whisk around, looking quizzically at a spatula.

It made Harry want to buy her a little play kitchen. He was surprised they didn’t already have one. He thinks they might have on in their New York City apartment that they haven’t traveled to recently.

He makes a point while Sasha is chewing at the pancakes to search to find one. He finds a same-day pickup at a local toy store and orders it.

That’s one thing he loved about making so much money. He could spoil you and the baby, his family with everything and anything they want or need.

Y/N always struggled with accepting gifts from Harry but as they years went on and they got married and combined bank accounts. (well she brought a hefty three thousand to the marriage, he graciously gave her full-access to his money).

A few weeks after your wedding, when you went to an ATM to get twenty pounds out for a cash-only restaurant and when the receipt said you two had six-hundred thousand and some change in just one of your CHECKING account - well you nearly almost fainted.

You had been worried about the three pound service fee before seeing that.

Harry could sometimes get ahead of himself. He’s had disposable money since he was sixteen. Y/N would sometimes hum, asking if he really needs a fifteen-thousand dollar wool Gucci coat.

Y/N would make it a point that she doesn’t want Sasha to grow to be materialistic and spoiled. So Harry was scolded every once in a while when he gave into Sasha’s puppy dog eyes.

Maybe not the best decision but he planned to set it up when you were out for lunch this afternoon with a friend. Hopefully, you wouldn’t notice? If he strategically put it in the playroom.

“Mmm, what’s all this?” You murmur, tying your silk robe at the front. Just enough cleavage showing that Harry feels a twitch in his joggers. Sue him, basically everything his wife did turned him on.

“Pancakes, mummy!” Sasha giggles, syrup coating her cheeks and fingers. “Kissy?” Her dad had taught her that.

“Yes baby,” you agree, leaning in to press a kiss to her soft curls, avoiding her sticky mess.

“Kissy?”

You look up to your pouting husband with identical absurdly wild curls from bed.

“Spoiled, you lot,” you tell him before padding over to him and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

Forever the horny teenager, his large hands finds your bum and pull you closer - deepening the kiss.

“Miss you s’much on tour, all I think about,” he whispers into your mouth. “Your tits, your cun-“

“Harry!” You laugh, smacking at his chest, “Can’t talk like that in front of the baby!”

“She didn’t hear,” he grumbles, giving your arse one last squeeze, “Tonight.”

“Tonight,” you agree back, ignoring the pinch of arousal.

—-

Sasha was putting up a fight when she realized that you were leaving without her. Grabbing at your leg as you tugged on a Gucci sneaker.

“I’ll be back soon, Sash,” you assure her but to no avail.

Her cheeks ruddy red and splotched. Tears staining them as she wails dramatically at the top of her little lungs.

“I don’t know if I should go,” You sigh as Harry wrestles her tiny body off of you so you don’t trip.

“No baby, you need a break. She can’t hold you hostage,” Harry laughs as Sasha wriggles a little in his arms.

“Call me if you need me to come home.”

“I’ll be fine, now go, have a mimosa for me,” Harry smiles down at his daughter who is staring at you like you’ve just killed her beloved pet.

You can’t help but giggle at the glare, “so scary, missy. I’ll see you soon, I love you.”

Sasha buries her nose into Harry’s neck. Her sobs more sad than angry at this point. Which makes your heartbreak a little.

—-

Sasha was getting impatient with her father. As he attempted to figure out how to screw on the oven door to the overcomplicated design.

She occasionally ran off with a piece he needed so it took much longer than he’d thought. But this thing was sophisticated, you pour water into a little tub and it runs through the faucet like a real sink.

Sasha gave her father a wide smile when he had finally told her it was all done. He helped fill the little shopping cart with plastic fruit and veggies.

She was babbling to herself happily, occasionally making sure her dad was still in the room with her.

Harry had grabbed his journal off the kitchen table and was scribbling down mismatched lyrics about how much love he was filled with.

His last two albums were nearly just songs about you. The next one was definitely going to include tracks about his baby.

When he hears the alarm sound and get shut off, he knows your home and he feels a little twinge of anxiety in his stomach.

Distraction? That should work right?

“Hi baby,” Harry greets, planting a kiss on your lips before squatting to untie your sneakers for you.

“Well hello there!” You look around surprised to not see your daughter toddling to you as well. “Is bug sleeping?”

Harry shakes his head and rubs the back of his neck, “Um, no. Just playing in the playroom right now.”

“Was she good?” You asks, noticing he’s changed clothes. He loved to laze around in joggers if he could. “Did you go out?”

“Just for coffee,” he covers, technically - he did grab a coffee for himself at a drive-thru. “How was lunch?”

“Good, mimosas were shit so I only had one. Missed you guys too much. So glad your home,” you sigh into his chest, basking in his tight arms around you.

“Only 73 more concerts to go,” Harry replies.

He can feel your shoulders tense at his lame attempt of a joke. It wasn’t funny to you, not in the slightest.

“Just 73, huh?” You shoot back, untangling yourself from his grip. “Just another eight months away from your wife and baby.”

“Love...” Harry begins, swallowing hard. He was just as emotional as you when it came to it.

You shake your head, swiping at the stray tear, “Just forget it,” you huff before trekking off to see your daughter.

Harry is cautiously trailing behind you with a bowling ball of nerves in his belly.

When you walk into the playroom and see the new kitchen set - you stand nearly frozen in the doorway.

“Mummy! Mumma look at what daddy got me!” She chirps, standing to come to you. You easily lift her up and accept the plastic apple she hands to you proudly.

You feel a tightness in your throat, “it’s so nice, baby.”

“Nice,” she repeats, “come play, mumma.”

“I just got home, give me a few minutes and I’ll be back in,” you promise with a kiss before placing her back down.

She seems satisfied with your answer and scurries back to where she had placed her babydoll on the countertop - feeding it.

“Can we please talk in the kitchen?” You asks, trying your best to keep your voice level in front of your daughter.

Harry dejectedly nods and follows you into the kitchen, dragging his boot-clad feet a little.

“Look, I know your mad, lovie. But I just got the idea and didn’t think too much about it. Know y’don’t want to spoil her but-“

“Do you not listen?” You ask harshly.

He looks at you dumbfounded. Unsure of the question. It sounded like it was a trick question.

“You’re unbelievable!” You whisper-shout so Sasha doesn’t hear.

Harry feels himself getting defensive, “You’re tha’ mad about a bloody toy? I’m her father allowed to buy her things too!”

“No, Harry. It’s not about that. It seems like your so busy with your job that you just tune me out on our calls.”

Harry’s brow furrows. That wasn’t true in the slightest. It was the highlight of his day to hear your voice and how it went at home.

“That’s bullshit and you know it!” Harry snaps, his voice a little louder.

“Go into the storage room off the side of the garage.”

He gives you a confused look but obliges, after trailing through your maze of a house. He reaches the large extra room.

When he opens the door, his heart sinks. He immediately knows why you’re so upset with him.

A beautiful, hand-painted kitchen set is sat with a large pink bow in the room. The hutch saying in cursive, “Sasha’s Kitchen.”

It was her favorite colors - blue and yellow- with painted images of all her favorite characters like Peppa Pig and Blue from Blue’s Clues.

He remembers how excited you were on the phone that night - when you revealed her third birthday present and how perfect the artist had made it.

Harry had been listening -truthfully- but he was also nearly asleep after two encores of Kiwi onstage and a meet and greet backstage.

He felt like shit now. Disappointed in himself for ruining this surprise he knows you were looking forward to giving her in a mere few days.

But the excitement of another kitchen set surely would be lackluster now.

“Baby, m’so sorry,” Harry says quietly, with guilt bubbling in his throat. “I was listening. I just...I forgot.”

“Nothing we can do about it now it,” you bite out. Disappointed at the ruin surprised making you prickle with anger towards your forgetful husband.

Harry begins to apologize once again but you don’t let him, “I need to put her down for a nap.”

—

You drift off as well in your bed- taking advantage of Sasha being asleep in the next room over.

Harry doesn’t quite know how to fix this situation. He’s much too embarrassed to call his mum or sister who would just give him another earful.

He felt like being on tour has been mucking everything up. He loved his job, most days. But days like today - he wishes to never see a recording studio or microphone again.

Harry’s pondering all this when he hears a cry from the baby’s room.

Sasha is stood, bleary-eyes with a sad frown as her father enters.

“Sweet pea, what’s the sad face for?” He hums as he tucks her into the curve of his slim hip. Bringing her down onto the main level so you aren’t awoken.

“Daddy, kitchen?” She sniffles, pointing towards her playroom.

He shakes his head. Deciding the least he can do is bathe her so you wouldn’t need to later. She still had remnants of fruit pouch in her cheeks.

“No, darling. S’bath time. Then you can play,” he boots her nose. Snatching some clean baby clothes from where they’re folded and waited to be put away on the coffee table.

“No no no,” she whimpers angrily, shaking her head and smacking her arm against her father’s tattooed chest.

“Sasha Anne, no hitting, absolutely not,” Harry uses his firm father’s voice that he didn’t have to pull out very often.

“No bath, daddy, no!” She wails with all the dramatics of an A-List actor.

“Hey, mumma’s sleeping. We cannot yell,” her father hushes her as he trails into the bathroom.

“Mean daddy!” She exclaims as he wrestles her into the tub. Splashing the water and wriggling away everytime he tries to cup water over her head to rid her of the shampoo.

“I know, I know, so mean,” he acknowledges sympathetically. A headache arising in the front of his skull from his baby’s high pitch noises and shouts.

After another fight into clothes, she’s still not happy when she’s sat in front of her kitchen. She throws the plastic toys around and whining anytime Harry moves an inch.

He’s feeling a little overwhelmed if he’s honest. With his worry about your precious argument and the unusual tactics of your toddler - he was stressed out.

“Binky,” Sasha looks expectantly at her father.

Oh, good idea. She loves that.

Harry can’t find any lying around like usual so he digs through the drawers around the living room until he finds one.

After cleaning it off, he hands it to her and she pops it in her mouth happily. Her attention now direction back towards her new toy.

He let out a sigh of relief. He wasn’t quite sure how you did this alone so much of the time.

—

When you finally wake from a fitful nap, you hear noise from the playroom. You’re still extremely frustrated with your husband but it’s less intense. Until...

Until you walk in and Sasha turns around, smiling around a binky you surely thought you’d thrown away.

Sasha was getting too old for a pacifier - even though she was just using it when she was really upset or at night.

You’d been binky-free for three weeks. And all the crying and tears from your daughter where now meaningless.

“Where did she get that pacifier?” You grit out.

You had told him multiple times you were weaning her off of it.

“She was fussy. I gave it to her, tha’ alright?” He asks cluelessly.

“Harry! I’ve told you so so many times that I’d been weaning her off of it. She just stopped crying about it a week ago!”

“I told you about this - just like the kitchen. God, you get so goddamn wrapped up in your career that you forget important things like this!”

“Baby...” Harry whimpers, hands up in surrender. “I keep, I keep messing up. I’m - I don’t know where my mind is.”

“I’ll tell you were your mind is, Harry. In the countries your traveling to, the concerts your performing at. You promised me...you fucking promised when we started trying for a baby this stuff wouldn’t happen!!”

Harry’s face crumples, “yo-you’re my everything, lovie. You and bug. None of this means anything without you. I’ll quit music, never write another lyric or sing another note if that’s what you want from me.”

He meant that fully heartedly too.

When he wrote If I Could Fly and write the lyrics, “I’ll give up everything, just ask me to.”

The fans, the producers, you - don’t truly know how much he was being truthful in the lyrics.

“I would never ask you to do that. I want you to do what you love but I want you to follow through for your family!”

At your raised tons, Sasha begins to whine, looking with wide, concerned eyes.

“Mummy?”

With that, you scoop her up. “M’going to your mums. I’ll be back later.”

Harry watches anxiously as you pack Sasha’s bag. He feels useless as he hands your her fruit pouches and crackers from the pantry.

As you snatch the car keys from the entry tables, Harry asks in a near whisper, “What’s going on? I’m so lost.”

“I’m lost too. I jus-just can’t keep doing this. It’s too hard for you to be away from us like this. I feel like a single mom sometimes.”

With that, you’re out the door and on your way to your mother-in-laws.

For the first time ever, Harry had a fleeting thought that you’re going to divorce him. He knows it’s not just about the toy and the pacifier.

He hasn’t been home enough. As much as he tries, the FaceTimes don’t make the distance and time apart any easier.

You have all the responsibility of this little human and your heart twinges on days you’re missing you husband and you constantly at met with his little replica.

Harry feels like he’s going to have a panic attack. He’s only had a handful in his lifetime but this one was intense.

He grabs his phone and dials the number to his best friend. He really needed a shoulder to cry on right now.

“Hey mate! What’s good, big boy?” The Irish man belts into the phone only to be met with sniffles and tears.

“Niall, I don’t know what to do.”

—

Anne was expecting you. She had set up tea with little cake in the back garden. Sasha was excited to chase the cats around the greenery. Her cute jumpsuit sodden with dirt and grass stains in no time.

“I’m sick of being at home alone all the time with Sasha. I miss Harry too much, she misses him too much,” you croak, attempting to keep your tears at bay.

“I want Harry to continue his career and live his dream. Most people never get the chance he’s gotten. I-I just need him.”

“Oh honey,” she rubs my hand soothingly, “I can only imagine. I know I missed him fiercely to the point it was unbearable when he was sixteen. I still miss him too.”

“I...I’m going to sound like such a bad mother,” you take a deep breathe, “would I be a bad mum if Sash and I joined Harry on tour?”

“Do you think that’d make you a bad mum?” Anne asks softly, a small smile on her face.

“No, I don’t think. I’d be happier because I’d be with Harry and we could actually be a married couple 24/7. She would get to see her dad everyday.”

“I think you’ve found you answer,” Anne chuckles, pouring more hot water into your cups.

“It will be so stressful.”

“More stressful than it is now?” Anne replies.

“Nothing can be more stressful than right now.”

- -

The talk witdh Niall helped only a little bit but enough to not feel like he’s going to vomit every other minute.

He was worried you were going to come in here and ask him for a divorce because he couldn’t follow through on his promises as a husband and a father.

Harry was ready to do whatever it took to prevent that from happening. He’s not above groveling and begging for you to stay.

It is dark when you pull in, toting in a sleeping child in your arms that you pass off to Harry who’s waiting at the front door.

He tucks his baby into her bed, tugging the blankets over her, and staring down at her sweet, cherub face for a little longer than usual before heading into your master.

You’re sat on the corner of the bed, biting your lip, and playing with you flashy large diamond ring as a force of habit.

“Baby...” Harry rasps, not touching you but kneeling down in front of you.

“I can’t do what we’re doing anymore,” you begin, completely unaware that Harry thinks you’re about to ask for a divorce.

“I don’t think you’re going to agree with what I have to say, but I think it’s the best,” you swallow harshly, hoping he doesn’t shoot down the proposition.

“Please, I’ll do anything, lovie. Don’t leave me, don’t divorce me. I’ll do anything’ you want, sweetheart. Please, I need you. I’m so inlove with you.”

Harry is full on sobbing by this point, hanging his head against your knees as he attempts to catch his breath but finding it hard.

“Harry!” You murmur in confusion “baby, look at me, please?”

It takes him a moment to meet your eyes, your face is soft but wrinkled in concern.

“What are you talking about? Divorce?” You choke out the words. Never in a million years would you willingly agree to part from your husband.

“I know I’ve been fuckin’ up. I can’t bloody figure out how to balance shit. I’ve not followed through and neglected you n’ the baby. I’m a bad husband and a bad dad.”

“Hey,” you said with force, bringing your hand under his chin so he has to keep eye contact. “Do not ever say something like that again. You are the best husband and father. You provide for us. You love us more than I’ve thought possible. You’re perfect for Sasha and I.”

“You said you couldn’t do this anymore,” Harry chokes out, letting his ringed hands rest on the tops of your thighs. His diamond wedding rand flashing in the light.

“Oh, H. I’m sorry - I didn’t mean with you.” You chuckle lightly, “how could you ever possibly think I’d leave you, pet?”

He shakes his head, “it’s because y’too good for me. Don’t deserve you.”

“Hush,” you hums, running a hand through his curls. “I know how to fix this.”

“How? I’ll do anything f’you,” Harry would agree to jump off The Empire State Building for you without a second thought.

“The baba and I are going to join you on tour. I know we agreed it’s be too much but I can’t imagine it can be any harder than this.”

Harry’s face lights up like a Christmas tree.

“That’s if you’ll have us,” you whisper coyly, excited by his reaction.

“Yeah, baby. It means I get to fuck you every night,” Harry growls pushing you back and up into the bed before crawling on top of you.

“A teenage boy, I swear,” you giggle, flushed just thinking about how much more time you’ll have together.

“S’it so bad I want t’fuck my wife? That I’m so bloody gone for you that I’d do anything f’you?” He presses against your lips before demanding entrance.

“You can have me in your bed every night,” you agree, letting his tongue twist with yours with fever and urgency.

“Mmm, only groupie I’ll ever need.”

“Shut up,” you laugh, allowing him to slip your shirt over your head and attach his lips to your collarbone.

“Can’t wait to fuck you in every country - like we did when you toured with me before the bab.”

When he tosses your bra across the room, you gasp at his mouth finding your nipple instantly. Nipping and suckling at the sensitive nerves with intent.

His hand doesn’t waste anytime, skillfully unbuttoning your jeans and zip with one hand before cramming his large palm inside to cup you in his hand.

“Only pussy I want, fuckin’ made for me,” he groans at the warm wetness he feel through the thin underwear. The tips of his fingers stroke over your clit with confident movements.

“Stop teasing!” You whine, wriggling out of your jeans and panties in one go. Harry is still completely dressed above you - which shouldn’t be sexy but it is.

“Don’t know how I thought you’d ever leave me. Y’fucking obsessed with my cock,” he laughs - sure of himself now.

“If you don’t touch me, I swear-“

“I’ve got you lovie, best wife ever, y’know? Just wanna please you,” he promises the damp skin on your neck, landing nips and bites that will surely leave a mark.

“Then please me,” you demand, your tone a higher pitch than usual for your arousal.

You’re rolling your hips upwards to meet his jean-clad center. The friction feels delicious against your sensitive nerves.

Harry takes hold of your hip with one hand to halt your grinding, his other hand finding your heat and without hesitation - slides two thick fingers into you.

“H, yeah,” y/n moans, rolling her hips down to meet his hand. Her arousal coating his knuckles and he can’t describe how sexy that is.

He curls his fingers towards the top of you tight wall, finding the little spongey spot that has you bucking your hips and whimpering.

“Oh, did I find the spot, love?” Harry teases like he doesn’t know. He’s been an expert in pleasuring you for the past eight years.

“Yes baby, m’gonna come,” you nearly slur with pleasure. The cold metal of his rings brushing against your heated folds in relief.

“Only gonna let you come - if you promise me you’ll come again f’me.”

“I will, H. I wil-“

“Ssh, s’okay. Give it to me, my love,” Harry croons sweetly, leaning to suck a nipple as he speeds up his minstrations.

Your chest is rising and falling at a fast pace, your hips meeting his curled fingers on every thrust as he pushes you over the edge, “fu-fuck,” you moan, trying your best to keep your voice down.

“Tha’s it. M’wife looks so fuckin’ gorgeous when she’s coming on my fingers. Need you on my cock,” Harry grunts, removing his fingers and working to get his clothes off as fast as possible.

He’s positioning himself at your entrance with intent, wasting no time pushing in. No matter how many times you took him - it was always a stretch but it was immensely pleasurable.

“Love you, love our family. Can’t wait f’you two to join me on tour,” Harry pants, attempting to keep his thrust slow and meaningful but he was so turned on he was already becoming sloppy.

“S’going to be so nice. Spend everyday with my husband,” you hum, wrapping your legs around his waist and resting your feet on his bum. You can feel the muscle flexing from his thrusts.

“Yeah, never get tired of hearin’ that word.”

“Husband?” You giggle, “we’ve been married for five years.”

“Still can’t believe you agreed to,” Harry murmurs, his lips pressed against your temple as he becomes more determined. His thumb finding your clit and giving it hard, tight rubs.

Harry could have anyone he wanted. Millions of people lusted after him. It was hard to believe sometimes that he only wanted you. But in moments like this, you never questioned it.

“You’re ridiculous,” you tell him, biting his full bottom lip.

He growls, “hush up. Let me fuck you, yeah?”

With that, the only thing that leaves your mouth is whines and gasps as he hits your spot on every fluid thrust with a determined thumb on your nerves.

“Cl-close,” Y/N shutters, legs quivering with sensitivity and arousal.

“Baby, baby wait f’me, m’close,” he begs against your skin, licking and kissing wherever he can reach. He speeds up his movements and you fell him tensing up, his mouth dripping open in an o shape and his eyes squeezing shut - his telltale sign.

You allow yourself to let go at that point and ride out the waves of intense climax with him as he weakly thrust a few more times until he lays his weight on top of you.

“The bubby is going to love South America,” Harry smiles into your mouth. His large palms massaging at your shaky, wet thighs.

“I think she’s going to love being with her daddy more,” Y/N replies, a hand coming to cup his jaw in a slow, languid twist.

—

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years

Text

Bring It On Home

Summary: After one of her regular customers catches her boss stealing her tips, the reader gets a job from Jensen. She figures he’s just being a nice guy but after a run in with a stranger they both learn exactly what they really are to one another...

Pairing: Jensen x daughter!reader

Word Count: 10,500ish

Warnings: language, angst, mention of death/drug use/smut/scary situations, fluff

A/N: Felt like putting a little spin on this one! Enjoy!

______

“Mr. Ackles,” you smirked as he wandered up to the counter with a big smile. “I thought you told me not to sell you anymore donuts. I thought you were slimming down for your next role.”

“Oh, I never said such a thing,” he smirked. “You got any of those maple cinnamon creme filled ones left?”

“Looks like we got one left,” you said. He set his starbucks cup and sunglasses down on the counter and pulled out his wallet. “Anything else?”

“Yeah. I’ll take a butterscotch for De and a dozen of the minis for the kiddos,” he said.

“Anything in particular?” you asked as you started to put together his order.

“Surprise me,” he said.

“I’ll go with glazed and chocolate to be safe,” you said. You set the bag and box down, ringing him up. “Oh and I gotta say, I really liked the new album. You guys were really good.”

“Well thank you very much, Y/N,” he smiled. He stuffed a big tip in the jar like he always did and you gave him a look. “Oh I know you saved that donut for me. Don’t pretend.”

“The fact you come in here every single Thursday at 10:07 in the morning when you’re not working and order the same donut every single time? Oh I don’t know who thought to do that,” you said.

“Mhm. See ya next week, kid,” he said as he headed out.

“Bye, Mr. Ackles,” you said. You saw your manager give you a side eye and you pouted.

“I thought I told you to stop bothering him,” she said.

“He’s nice. It’s a small place. He comes in every week,” you said. She took the money out of the tip jar and shoved it in her pockets. You sighed and heard the door open again, Jensen shaking his head.

“Sorry, left my sunglasses,” he said. He picked them up and paused, staring at the jar. “I just put twenty dollars in there.”

You looked at your manager and she pretended to have to go sign for something. You wiped down the counter and saw him still standing there.

“Can I get you anything else?” you asked. You straightened up and his lip was pursed.

“Does your boss take your tips?” he asked.

“We pool tips here, Mr. Ackles. You know that,” you said.

“Yeah but you make minimum wage. She doesn’t. Does your boss take a cut of the tips?” he asked. You didn’t say anything but apparently you did. He grumbled and pulled out a twenty, sliding it across the counter. “That’s yours, not hers. While I’m at it, I’m gonna say what I’ve been thinking for like, the entire time you’ve waited on me and just go to school. You are way too smart to be working a job like this the rest of your life.”

“Mr. Ackles you don’t-”

“You don’t ring people up. You do the math in your head. You always give me a total before it pops up on the screen. You got a brain. Use it for something better than this, kid,” he said.

“Not everyone is fortunate enough to do that,” you said.

“How old are you?” he asked.

“Twenty two,” you said.

“You got a car?” he asked.

“Yeah?” you said.

“Congratulations. You’re the newest bartender at my brewery. Starts at fifteen bucks an hour,” he said.

“Is that in the morning?” you asked.

“It’s probably evenings, afternoons. Why?” he asked.

“I have another job,” you said. “I can’t work later than noon.”

“You can work in the brewery in the morning then. We got a deal?” he asked. You nodded and he pulled a card out of his wallet. “Call me when you’re done with work today and we’ll get you set up, okay?”

“Thank you. This is gonna help so much,” you said. He smiled and nodded.

“Just hang in there for now. It’ll get better.”

Three Weeks Later

“Good morning,” you heard as you dropped a sack on the floor. You were panting and sweaty, Jensen smiling as he saw you. “Whoa, what are you doing moving those by yourself.”

“My boss said they need to get moved. I was getting started without him was all,” you said.

“Okay your boss is my business partner so I’m like your boss too and no we do not move seventy pound bags by ourselves, understand?” he asked.

“Sorry,” you said, wiping your hand over your face.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “It’s just a bag on the floor.”

“Yeah. I just don’t want to screw this up,” you said. “I really need the money.”

“Well relax. It’s only your second week,” he said. You nodded and he squatted down, hoisting the bag over his shoulder. He walked it over to where they were being moved and tossed it down. “Come here.”

You scurried over and he crossed his arms, looking back at the pallet of raw hops and the bag by his feet.

“Figure out how to make this more efficient,” he said.

“What?”

“I didn’t hire you because I felt sorry for you and I didn’t do it because you’re stronger than the grown men here. You got a brain and I want you to use it. Figure out a way to make this process better. Tell your boss when you got something,” he said.

“Yes sir,” you said.

“None of that sir shit, kid. Just Jensen, okay?”

“Yeah, sorry,” you said. He rolled his eyes and walked away, a pit forming in your stomach. You were so getting fired. You should have just sucked it up and stayed at the donut shop. You’d quit there and your pizza shop job went away when they closed up last week. You knew you could squeak by until you found another part time job. “Jensen?”

He spun around halfway across the room and you swallowed.

“I’m available in the evenings now. I can bartend too if you still need that,” you said.

“I can give you two shifts a week. Same pay. That work?” he asked.

“Yes that’s great,” you said.

“Good. Figure out the bags, Y/N,” he said before he went off. You felt a little better at least. You stared at the bags and pallet, trying to figure out the best way to get the bags over with all of the equipment in the way.

One Hour Later

“So you figured it out,” said Jensen with a knowing smile after you’d told him about your idea to use the forklift to drive around outside and then back in through the other smaller door to bring the bags over to the other side of the equipment. “Took a little longer than I was expecting.”

You frowned and he chuckled.

“Relax. It was a test,” he said.

“A test?” you said and he hummed. “For what?”

“I think your talents would be better suited for stocking management at the moment. You’re gonna track orders as they come in, manage storage, help the workflow stay on track. Sound good?” he asked.

“Yes. Definitely,” you said.

“People are around to help but I think you’ll do just fine,” he said. “I gotta run. Don’t forget to take a lunch break at some point.”

“Jensen. Thanks for the job. Really,” you said.

“You go to college and then you can thank me,” he said. “See you around, kid.”

One Month Later

“Mmm,” you hummed at the end of your shift tending bar. You were sipping on a can of beer and eating a slice of pizza on the quiet patio, a few people finishing up with their drinks before the place closed up for the night.

“Excuse me,” said an older man, probably in his fifties. You stopped mid-chew and he put on a friendly smile. “I’m sorry to bother you. You just look a lot like someone I know. Well I didn’t know her but…”

“Howdy,” said Jensen as he wandered out from the taproom. It wasn’t lost on anyone how he put himself between you and the man. “Enjoying your night sir?”

“Yes. I was just chatting to the young lady here. I thought I knew her from somewhere…” he trailed off. Jensen looked back at you and you swallowed down the pizza in your mouth.

“She must have one of those faces,” he said. “We’re closing up for the night soon sir.”

“I’m not trying to bother her,” he said.

“I know you’re not,” said Jensen. The man didn’t leave though and he stiffened up. “Sir. The young lady doesn’t want to talk to you. She doesn’t know you. Please return to your table.”

“I do know her though,” he said.

“I’m sorry, I don’t…” you said.

“Y/N, go inside,” said Jensen.

“Okay, this is a very awkward situation. But I need to talk to her in private,” said the man. Jensen chuckled but you heard the dark edge to it.

“I need you to leave,” said Jensen.

“I’m a cop.”

“I don’t care if you’re the Easter bunny. You are making my employee uncomfortable,” said Jensen. The man stared at him and then you. Jensen grabbed your arm and started walking inside with you when the man grabbed your hand. “Get your fucking hands off-”

“Y/N, I know your mom,” he said. Jensen kept pulling on you but you shook him off.

“You’re a cop?” you asked as he nodded.

“You’re Y/N, aren’t you,” he said.

“What the fuck is going on?” asked Jensen.

“Y/N, sweetie, we need to call up the Dallas police department right now. There are things you need to know.”

“Things like what?”

Four Hours Later

“Hey kid,” said Jensen as you sat at a conference table in a police station. You stared blankly at the shut file, Jensen setting a candy bar down in front of you. “Didn’t know if you were a chocolate kinda chick.”

“Thank you Jensen,” you said quietly. You didn’t touch it and he bumped your arm.

“You okay?” he asked.

“No,” you said. “Thank you for coming with me to the station and staying. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah well no offense but I was serious about what I said. I wasn’t leaving you alone with some random dude,” he said. “Eat something.”

“I thought I had shitty parents before,” you laughed. “Turns out they fucking killed my mom and took her toddler and pretended I was theirs. What the fuck.”

“I’m not going to pretend to know how you remotely feel right now,” he said. “It’s fucked up. It’s so fucked up.”

“I know,” you said as a detective came in.

“Y/N, this is the file we worked up on your mom,” he said. He opened a page and you saw Jensen stand out of the corner of your eye.

“That’s her mother?” he said.

“Abigail Leandry? Yes,” said the detective. Jensen shook his head. “Mr. Ackles, what-”

“Kayla. Kayla,” he said.

“Mr. Ackles, why do you know the deceased’s middle name?” asked the detective. Jensen was practically white now and you stood up, holding onto him.

“Did you know my mom?” you asked. “Jensen, did you know her?”

“Who’s her father?” asked Jensen.

“There’s no father on record. Mr. Ackles are you-” said the detective as Jensen ran his hand over his face. “What is your relation to the victim, Mr. Ackles?”

“I had a one night stand when I was twenty years old,” he said as he looked at you. “She said her name was Kayla.”

“What?” you said. The detective looked at the both of you and stood up. “Where are you going?”

“I think we need to do a paternity test as soon as possible.”

Two Hours Later

“I…” started Jensen for the fifth time as you sat in his passenger seat. You stared at the dashboard, Jensen opening his mouth again. “Y/N...if I knew…”

“I know,” you said. “Can you drive me back to my car now. I want to go home. It’s been a long day.”

“It’s after midnight. Why don’t I drop you off and we can swing by to get your car in the morning,” he said.

“Whatever.” You rested your head on the glass and shut your eyes. He started the truck but it didn’t move.

“We used protection. I wasn’t…” he said.

“It’s not a guarantee. Dude, you’re my dad. Whatever. Just take me home. Please,” you said.

“Where do you live,” he asked quietly. You gave him the address and twenty minutes later you were outside of your apartment, Jensen looking around. You put a hand on the door and he sighed. “Wait.”

“Jensen, I’m tired.”

“I know. I’m about to have a very fun time telling my wife about this. I just...this is not a safe neighborhood for a young woman to live alone in,” he said. “There’s stabbings and shootings around here all the time.”

“I grew up with methhead parents. That was kind of par for the course,” you said.

“I’m a stranger. I understand. Would you consider…” he said and you opened the door.

“I’m fine, Jensen. Go home. You have a long night still,” you said.

“I’ll pick you up at nine,” he said. You hummed and he leaned over. “Wait. Can I have your number?”

You gave him your phone and he put yours in his before putting his in yours and handing it back.

“Hey,” he said as you started to head inside. You groaned and turned around. He took a deep breath and swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

“Goodnight, Jensen,” you said. You went inside your unit before he could say anything else and locked the door shut. You wandered into the kitchen and opened the fridge, nothing in there but a six pack of beer from the brewery. You shook your head and looked in the cabinet, half a bottle of vodka still there. You took it out and poured yourself a glass, wincing as you drank it down.

Maybe you’d be lucky enough to wake up in the morning and find out it was all a nightmare.

“Y/N,” said Jensen as you started work the next morning. You saw Danneel talking with her brother across the room, both of them glancing at you. “Can we talk?”

You nodded and he wandered out back to the employee area, taking a seat at a picnic table. You sat across from him, Jensen bouncing his leg like crazy.

“I thought I should at least tell you...I met Kayla at a club when I was twenty. I was home visiting family and went out with some friends. She was from Houston. We talked, flirted a bit, she was...forward with what she was interested in and being young and stupid like I was, I felt as though I should have at least one one-night stand in my life. I wasn’t...comfortable with it at first but it happened. We used protection and I left and I never really thought of her ever again. Until now obviously.”

“What’s your point, Jensen?” you asked. He bit his bottom lip and stilled his leg.

“We both learned some things last night. We know your mom got involved with drugs. We know that’s why she was killed. The people that raised you probably did it. She has no family left. The people that took you weren’t good and they’re dead and you have no family out there, anywhere. I know you were in a group home when you were sixteen after they died. I know you bounced around a bit and wound up in foster care until you aged out last year. I know your home isn’t safe and your car is older than you.”

“Jensen.”

“I’d like the chance to give you a real dad. I’d like to be there for you the way I should have always been. De and I both do. We can give you everything you need or want,” he said.

“I understand,” you said. He smiled and you rolled your eyes. “This would look horrible for you if it got out that you have some stray, wouldn’t it. Your grand idea is to pay me off?”

“What?” he asked and you stood up. “Y/N, that’s not-”

“I did just fine my whole life without a real dad. I don’t need one now,” you said. You headed back towards the entrance and he caught up to you grabbing your shoulder.

“Stop. Wait a second. I-” he said as you spun around.

“Leave me alone. I shouldn’t even exist. I will do just fine without you like I always have.” You started walking again and headed to your car, sliding behind the wheel before you knew it. You drove home and sat in your apartment, expecting a call that you’d been fired.

Five minutes after being home you heard a car pull up out front. The doorbell rang and you ignored it. A text came in on your phone which you also promptly ignored.

“Y/N. It’s Jensen,” he said as he knocked on the door. “Kid, I...we don’t gotta be the fucking Brady Bunch. You don’t have to do anything. Just let me try. I’ll do all the work, I swear. I just...I just gotta know you’re okay. I know you’re not. This is so fucked up. You should have had a better life. You should have had me. I would have stopped you from living through all the shit you have. I’m sorry this happened to you.”

You stared at the door and pursed your lips.

“I want to know my daughter. I want to be part of her life. I don’t want to hide you from anyone,” he said. “Let me give you what you deserve.”

You walked over and slowly opened the door, Jensen wearing a worried smile.

“I’m not calling you dad.”

“You don’t have to,” he chuckled. “Can I come in?”

You swung the door open wider and he stepped past you, pausing in the hall as you closed up behind him.

“You live here?” he asked.

“No, I stay here for shits and giggles. Yes I live here,” you said. He stepped past the kitchen and into your family room where you took a seat on the old couch, Jensen spinning around. “Yeah, it’s shitty. I get it.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s in violation of health codes,” he said. He took a seat on the couch and made a face. “Can I push my luck and convince you to move out of here?”

“I don’t need charity, Jensen. You’ve given me enough already,” you said.

“Parents put a roof over their kids' heads. I’m a few years late so sue me but we gotta get you somewhere better than this,” he said.

“I drink. I swear. I walk around in my underwear and I have adult friends sleepover so there’s no way in hell I’m moving in with you.”

“I have a guest house,” he said. “It’s private. You’re not a child and I’ll do my best to not treat you like one. But it’s safe and nice and you can have your own space...just forty feet from where I live is all.”

You crossed your arms and he put on a pair of sad eyes.

“You’re milking it a bit don’t you think,” you said.

“I’m not acting,” he said. “I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want. I’ll give you money for food and gas and pay for the rest if you don’t want to talk to me. Just give me this. Let me get you out of this shithole.”

“I don’t need saving.”

“I didn’t say I was going to save you. I want to protect you. There’s a difference.”

He set a hand on his leg, turning it palm up. You watched it and after a moment set your hand in his.

“Don’t fuck me over,” you said.

“Not gonna happen,” he said. “Why don’t we run to the store to get some boxes and we can pack up your stuff?”

An hour later you were following Jensen in your car down the driveway of a very nice house. You parked behind him and got out, staring at it and the yard and turning your head to see the multiple cars in his garage.

“Y/N,” said Jensen. He was standing closer, giving you a smile. “We can move the boxes in a minute. Why don’t I show you the guest house first?”

“Okay,” you said. You followed him around a path that went behind the garage, a two story building back there.

“It’s only one bedroom. But it’s got it’s own office on the first floor,” he said. “It’s not that big. You can always stay in the house with the rest of us if you change your mind but I understand wanting your privacy.”

He unlocked the door and you stepped inside, Jensen mentioning something about dust but you were still floored by how nice it was. The kitchen was beautiful and open to the family room. The large wood dining table sat in a cute breakfast nook. There was a fireplace and big windows with a staircase in the back heading up to a second floor.

“...I know it’s a bit plain,” he said and you turned your head, Jensen smiling back at him. “You haven’t heard a word I said, have you.”

“This is too nice. Jensen this is way too nice. I gotta pay you rent for-” you said but he shook his head. “Jensen.”

“I have some contingencies for you staying here. You follow those and I’ll pay for this place and your food and gas. Okay?” he asked.

“What are they?” you asked.

“No big parties. You want to have something small that’s fine but no big blowouts,” he said.

“Do I look like I have a lot of friends?” you asked.

“I want you to go to school. You can keep your job at the brewery but you’re gonna go to school. I will pay for it but I want you to have an education.”

You pursed your lips but nodded.

“I’m getting you a new car, one much safer. Lastly, if you see the kids, please try not to swear in front of them. They’re young and we do our best to not do that around them,” he said.

“Fine,” you said. “Don’t expect me to start having big family dinners or that kind of thing.”

“I understand. I’ll move the boxes and um, maybe you can make up a list of things you need for me to get at the store.”

“I have everything I need in the boxes,” you said.

“You have one pan and like three plates,” he said.

“Yeah?” you asked.

“Y/N, that’s not normal.”

“You realize this isn’t normal right?” you said as you looked around.

“If you change your mind...I’m gonna get your things, let you unpack,” he said. He left and ten minutes later you had four boxes by the door, Jensen excusing himself away. You unpacked your kitchen items, knowing he might have had a point. But he was buying absolutely everything for you and it was a little ridiculous.

You took your bag of clothes upstairs, swallowing when you saw the bedroom and bathroom up there. It was like it was out of a magazine. There was even a small balcony off the room. You stepped out and looked around at a yard and saw a pool off in the distance.

There was no way in Hell you belonged in a place like that.

That Evening

You were cooking dinner for yourself with the over abundance of groceries Jensen had left at the door earlier when you heard a knock. You moved the pan off the heat and opened up, Jensen standing there with a smile.

“Can I help you?” you asked.

“We’re about to have dinner if you’d like to join us,” he said.

“You said I don’t have to talk to anyone if I don’t want to.”

“I know. I just wanted to offer. It’s your first...are you cooking?” he asked as he saw into the kitchen.

“Yes. I appreciate the offer but no thank you,” you said.

“I literally just gave you some extra pantry staples for the night before I can run to the store in the morning. You’re making dinner out of that stuff?” he asked.

“Yes?” you said. “You gave me pasta and olive oil. I will survive for the night.”

“You’re making pasta in a pan?” he asked.

“Yes. You put water in the pan and put in some pasta. It’s like magic,” you said.

“Alright. I’ll see you in the morning then,” he said. You shut the door on him and went back to the stove. You stared at the messy pan and turned the stove off. You sat down on the couch with your head in your hands.

He had never, never been anything but nice to you when you were a complete stranger. Of course he was going to go overboard since he found out you were his kid. You were being bitchy for no reason and he was still being nice.

There was a knock at the door but you saw him walk past the window. You got up and opened the door, a large pot sitting on the small bench by the door. He was halfway across the grass and you swallowed.

“Jensen?” you called out. He spun around and smiled.

“Keep it,” he said.

“What...what are you having? For dinner?”

“Pork roast with mashed sweet potatoes and roasted veggies. S’pretty good,” he said. “We got ice cream for dessert.”

You bit your bottom lip and he walked over to you, frowning as he stared down.

“I don’t blame you for not having much faith in people or being cautious of me. I really don’t. But I am your dad and you are my daughter. To you that means nothing. I understand. But you’re one of the most important things in my life now. It can be one sided if you want that. It can be that simple if you want that. Like I said, you can ignore me the rest of my life if you want and I would never blame you. But I can give you more than a place to stay and money. There’s shit a lot more important than those things. You can have it if you want it. Just come on inside if you decide you do.”

You crossed your arms and looked down. He didn’t leave yet and you took a few deep breaths.

“I’ve never really trusted anyone before,” you said. “I’m not...I do want a family, Jensen. I do. But my life isn’t like this. I dropped out of high school and got a GED. I have hookups most nights. I’m probably going to get pregnant, marry the guy, have another kid, get divorced, live in a small old apartment while working two jobs and that’s my life. That’s gonna be life, Jensen. I’ve known that’s gonna be my life since I was a kid. I don’t have goals or dreams. I’m just here because you feel guilty and I can take advantage of that right now. I’m gonna push back and push back until you throw me out or I leave because I’m not gonna trust you. I’m never going to trust you, Jensen. You don’t have to feel bad about this situation. You don’t. You did nothing wrong. I’m not supposed to even be here. I think it’s better if you just gave me some money and I’ll leave and you never have to think about me ever again.”

“I’m gonna think about you everyday for the rest of my life,” he said. “You deserve a better life than what you described. You deserve a good job and to fall in love and have children because you want to. I want you, Y/N not out of guilt. I only feel guilty I wasn’t there for you. I want you because you’re my daughter and I love you. It’s all there is to it.”

You sighed and heard thunder in the distance.

“You can stay in the house. You can live with us. We’d love it if you did,” he said. You looked back at the guest house. For the first time you noticed the bags of concrete stacked up on the side.

“You were gonna tear it down, weren’t you,” you said.

“We didn’t need it. It was gonna be an extra garage space. But that’s-”

“Will I have my own room?” you asked quietly. “In the house.”

“Yes. Your own room, bathroom, big closet. Your own part of the house.”

“...How do I know you’re telling the truth?” you asked.

“You don’t. Have dinner with us. Talk to your siblings. Maybe they can give you some insight,” he said. You walked past him as a light rain came down, Jensen showing you in the back door and up a set of stairs. There were a pair of toddlers at a table, an older girl in the kitchen with Danneel as they dished up some plates. “Y/N’s going to join us.”

“That’s great,” said Danneel as she handed the girl a plate. “JJ, would you give that to Y/N and get her some silverware?”

“Sure,” she said. She walked over to you and you took the plate. “Are you mom and dad’s friend?”

“She’s your sister,” said Jensen as he helped in the kitchen. He put down a glass at an empty chair and you took a seat, JJ returning quickly with a fork and knife.

“You’re kinda old,” she said as she set them down.

“You’re kinda short,” you said.

“Am not,” she said as she went to her seat.

“Yeah you are,” said the littlest girl. Jensen had brought her in to get donuts a few times and you saw her recognize you. “Hi!”

“Hi Arrow,” you said with a smile.

“JJ, Arrow, Zepp,” said Jensen as he leaned over the back of her chair and poured a glass of water for you from the carafe. “This is Y/N and she’s gonna be around quite a bit more we hope.”

“Okay. Who’s your favorite princess?” asked Arrow.

“Hm. That’s a tough one. I don’t know if she qualifies as a princess but I always liked Rapunzel,” you said as Jensen and Danneel carried over their plates. “Who’s your favorite?”

An hour later you were still discussing Disney characters with the kids, Jensen scooping up the twins under each arm.

“Daddy,” groaned Zeppelin as he was spun upside down. “We were playing.”

“You two and your sister need baths, stinkers, and then a bedtime story. How’s that sound?” he asked.

“Can Y/N read it?” he asked as he looked at you.

“Sure,” you said.

“Yay!” he said.

“We’ll be about half an hour with these guys. If you want to come up I can show you your space,” said Jensen. You nodded and followed them all upstairs. Danneel went off with JJ down a hall, Jensen nodding towards one end. “That’s me and De over there. Kids are down that hall and the guest suite and loft is to the right.”

“Thanks,” you said. You wandered down the hall and found a large open space with a couch and TV, more of an adult hang out space from the looks of it. There was a door nearby and you opened it, walking into a large bedroom with a canopy bed. “Holy shit.”

It was nicer than the guest house and you walked around, stepping into a beautiful on suite bathroom with double vanities, a separate shower and a giant ass tub. The walk in closet was huge and you were absolutely in love with the wide window bench and bookcases.

“Hey,” said Jensen behind you. You spun around and saw him sporting a partially wet shirt. “You like it?”

“It’s warm,” you said.

“Well feel free to move some clothes and stuff in for the night. There’s a few raincoats in the front hall closet downstairs. I gotta try and get these three washed before the storm hits,” he said.

“It’s no problem,” you said. He smiled and started to leave when you took a step forward. “Jensen?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry about before, how I acted and what I said. No one’s ever taken care of me and not wanted something in return,” you said.

“Apology accepted. All I will ever want is you to be happy. We’ll get there eventually,” he said. He left and after exploring the room for a few more minutes, you took a raincoat from the front closet and went outside, packing up most of your things and bringing them up to your new room. You’d just set a box down when a toddler in a pair up pull ups ran into your room.

“Y/N, can I have a story now?” asked Zeppelin.

“Zepp...Zeppy…” you heard Jensen call from somewhere else.

“You wanna show me your room and then I can tell you a story?” you asked. He grabbed your hand and pulled you out, Jensen sighing as he found you in the hall. “I got him.”

“Well someone needs his pajamas on,” said Jensen. Zeppelin grumbled but he did tug on his shirt at least once you were in his room. Jensen tugged his pants on and Zeppelin rushed over to his bookcase, picking out one and handing it to you. He crawled up in bed and you sat on the stool nearby, reading and showing him the pages for about ten minutes before you watched him close his eyes and huff quietly.

“Night, little guy,” you said. You put the book on his nightstand and set the stool back. Jensen smiled and flicked the light off by the door, a nightlight keeping the space dimly lit. He shut the door and you were quiet as you saw Danneel duck out of a room. He nodded and you followed the two of them to the loft area, taking a seat on the end of the couch as he settled into a chair, Danneel sitting close by.

“I think Zepp’s a fan,” she said with a smile. “I think they all are.”

“Kids don’t tend to be the problem in these situations,” you said. You looked at her and she nodded. “Are you...okay-”

“I would much rather have you stay in this house than out there by yourself. You’ve been on your own enough,” she said.

“What was your reaction?” you asked as you quickly glanced to Jensen.

“A bit of shock. But I saw the test results and he has…” she said, Jensen nodding. “He mentioned once when you first started working at the brewery about feeling protective of you. We both assumed it was because you were young and on your own and trying to get by. I’ve never been quite that bad but when he first started out after he left home, things were tight for him. We understand struggling a bit. Not to the same extent as you obviously but we get it. Now with what you know, I think there was some paternal instinct coming out he didn’t quite see.”

“In my experience, parents aren’t good things. My life got better after them,” you said. “But I’m willing to try if he is.”

“All of us will,” said Jensen. “It’ll take time which will be the hard part probably but if you allow us, we can be parents to you too. We won’t make rules for you. You’re an adult and we’ll treat you like one. But we’ll treat you like our child too. De and I will probably screw that up sometimes so all I ask is that you let us slip up from time to time and hopefully this can turn out the way we hope it does.”

“Do I have to go to college?” you asked. Jensen glanced to Danneel and back at you. “I don’t have the best grades and I literally dropped out my senior year. Does a community college even take a GED?”

“I was thinking more like UT,” he said. You laughed and he raised an eyebrow.

“You’re serious? I didn’t even take SATs or ACTs or…” you trailed off as you turned to Danneel who shrugged. “I can’t.”

“Yes you can.”

“No, I can’t,” you scoffed. You gripped the corner of the armchair and he sighed. “I can’t-”

“Shh,” he said as he got up. He squatted down in front of you and smiled. “Don’t be scared. We’ll figure it out together, all of us. That room over there? That is your bedroom now and no one will ever kick you out of it. I don’t want you leaving until you’re ready and I think we all know you’re a long way away from that. I believe you can go to school and do anything you want to. I’ll believe for the both of us right now, okay?”

“I’m too stupid. I don’t fit in aside from with sleazy guys,” you said.

“I disagree with that,” he said. “Trust me?”

You sighed but gave him a nod.

“I know it’s been a long day and you didn’t get a lot of sleep last night but there is a bowl of ice cream downstairs with your name on it if you’re interested,” he said.

“Maybe. I’d like to wash up,” you said. “I know today was kind of busy but I still have work in the morning right?”

“Don’t worry about work right now. We go it covered,” said Danneel. “I can show you where stuff is in your bathroom.”

You swallowed but nodded, following her back into your room and the bathroom. A part of you was expecting her to say something about wanting you gone. After all you technically weren’t hers. You were barely Jensen’s.

“There’s a bunch of stuff like soap and shampoo and that kind of stuff in here,” she said, opening up a tall cabinet door. “Towels are up top. There’s not a hair dryer in here but I can just drop mine off outside on your bed if you want?”

“Air dry is fine,” you said quietly.

“Honestly I do the same most of the time,” she said. “There are some pads and tampons under the sink but I gotta run to a few stores in the morning anyways so maybe you can come with and we can get whatever brand you like.”

“I don’t…” you said as she cocked her head. “I get all my supplies from a free clinic. I can’t...I couldn’t afford that brand name stuff before.”

“Oh,” she said. She made a strange face and shook her head. “Well we can try them out until we find one you like.”

“Okay,” you said.

“If you need anything just let me know,” she said. She walked past you but you heard her pause in the doorway. “Y/N a bit of advice.”

You turned around and waited for her to drop the nice act.

“Yeah?”

“Stay away from sleazy guys. They just want sex. They don’t care about you.”

“I know that.”

“Then do me a favor and the next time you spend the night with a guy, do it cause you feel a connection with him. There’s a difference.”

“I get that too.”

“Then why sleep around?”

“Because I’ll take a fake connection over no connection.”

“You don’t need a man to be happy,” she said. “Jensen and I spend a lot of time apart.”

“What is your point?” you sighed.

“Don’t fuck random guys cause you’re lonely. You might not realize this yet but you’re never gonna be alone ever again. Get used to us cause you’re fucking ours and we want better for you than a random fuck. You got that?”

“You don’t talk to me the way Jensen does,” you said quietly.

“Because he’s in pain right now and he is so scared of setting you off. I on the other hand know what it’s like to be a young woman. I won’t tell you not to have your fun. But have it with somebody special. Good guys do exist. Good dads exist. He’s not gonna hurt you. You said you’d try out there so please try.”

“Do you wish I would go?”

“I wish someday you realize what a silly question that is to be asking,” she said. “I might barely be old enough to be your mother but you didn’t just get a dad with this. You have him and you have me and three half-siblings and a whole shitload of other people. So the next time you’re lonely, you come to one of us and maybe the next guy you sleep with you can do it cause he’s a good guy. Understand?”

“Yes,” you said. She nodded and started to leave when you cleared your throat. “Danneel?”

“Yeah?” she asked as she turned around.

“Where do you meet nice guys? I haven’t had much luck,” you said.

“You’re young. Don’t worry about it, sweetie,” she said as some thunder shook the house. “Wash up at the sink. Jensen gets a wee paranoid about showers in thunderstorms.”

“I’m the same way,” you said.

“You two must be related or something,” she smirked.

“Seriously,” you said.

“Aw, you got his bitch face too,” she laughed. “Come down when you’re ready. We’ll save you some ice cream.”

“Thanks,” you said. She shut the bedroom door after herself and you took out a few things from the cabinet along with what you’d brought along. Fifteen minutes later your face was washed and you’d changed into pajamas, a pair of old sweatpants and a free shirt you’d gotten from the brewery. You threw your hair up in a bun and took a deep breath.

You wandered out of the room and down the hall, getting mixed up for a moment before you found the stairs down. Danneel was sitting on the countertop with a bowl in her hand, Jensen busy decorating his own with crumbled up cookies.

“Hey,” he said. He slid the bowl across the counter and stuck a spoon in it. “Prepare to be amazed.”

“Mhm,” you said. You scooped up a spoonful and took a bite, tilting your head. “Is that...whiskey?”

“Just a smidge. That, vanilla ice cream and some cookies on top? So good,” he said as he started to make himself a bowl. “We were away once back in De’s neck of the woods and had it at dinner once. Obviously my version is superior…” he said as he got a whack from Danneel. “It’s a pretty good knock off.”

“Jensen always manages to pick out the best desserts. Meanwhile I always pick the weird ones,” she laughed.

“Oh next time we’re in New York we gotta take her to that hole in the wall place,” said Jensen.

“New York City?” you asked.

“Mhm,” he hummed. You sat up on the counter across from Danneel and sucked on your spoon, Jensen taking a spot near you when he’d finished. “How’d you end up down here. You were in Dallas up until last year weren’t you.”

“Yeah. A couple friends were gonna move down here so I went with them. I thought a new place might be good for me. They turned out to not be great friends so I wound up in an assisted place,” you said.

“Well I’m glad you came,” he said. “You been a lot of places yet?”

“Not really,” you said.

“You ever been to Franklin’s?” asked Danneel. “The barbecue place?”

“I’ve never been out to eat,” you said.

“Ever?” she asked.

“Sometimes we’d sit in McDonald’s,” you said.

“Well we’re definitely going out to dinner tomorrow,” said Jensen. “We can get whatever you like.”

“That sounds good,” you said. You took a few more bites and watched the lights flicker.

“Uh oh,” he said just as the power went out. You stilled as he slid off the counter in the dark. They both moved around as you sat still, a lamp turning on nearby. You jumped and Jensen chuckled. “Ah, there we go. That’s…”

You jumped off the counter when he ran a hand over your head.

“It’s-“

“I don’t like the dark,” you said. You set the bowl down and started to walk around, bumping into him and then Danneel. “I don’t…”

You stepped over to the lamp on the table, taking a seat and a few deep breaths.

“Jay.”

Jensen went off into another part of the house, returning with two more camping lamps. He turned them on and the room got brighter.

“There we go, that’s better isn’t it?” asked Jensen. Danneel brought over your ice cream and you took a deep breath. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just don’t like the dark,” you said. You squeezed your leg and relaxed, Jensen wandering off, returning with a flashlight. He sat it next to you as you picked up your spoon and began eating again. There was a flutter of feet upstairs for a moment and you heard a whimper come from the top of the steps. Danneel got up and went over to the bottom, looking up with a frown.

“How about you sleep in your sister’s room tonight?” she asked as she went up. You finished with your bowl, Jensen leaning back in his chair.

“He’s scared of the dark too,” said Jensen.

“I’m not scared. I said I don’t like it.”

“Alright. It’s not an interrogation,” he said. He ate from his bowl, keeping a side eye on you. “You know we have a security system and protection here.”

“You’re rich, of course you do,” you said. You stared down to an empty hall and he grabbed the flashlight. He clicked it on and pointed it down there. You rolled your eyes and sat back. Jensen set the extra cookies on the table, adding more to his ice cream as you stared down the dark hall again.

“Y/N. There’s nobody here,” he said.

“I know that,” you said.

“It’s okay to be scared of the dark you know.” He popped a cookie in his mouth and you gave him a glare. Thunder cracked and you jumped in your seat. He moved over to the chair next you and you shut your eyes. “Can I give you a hug?”

“What?”

“Is it okay if I give you a hug?” he asked.

“No,” you said.

“Okay.” You got up and flinched when it thundered again. You started to wander around the kitchen, Jensen watching you like a hawk. You found a seat at the counter and stared down the hall, pouting when you heard him get up. “Don’t kick my ass for this.”

“Kick your ass for what?” you said just as he stopped by your seat and wrapped his arms around you. You took a deep breath and he turned you so you weren’t facing the hall. You looked up at him and he smiled.

“Come on,” he said. He pulled you out of your seat and walked over to the couch with an arm around you. You sat down next to him, Jensen pulling a blanket draped over the back onto you.

“Don’t…” you said when he hugged you again. He leaned back and you took a deep breath. He nodded and moved his arms away.

“I think I understand why you don’t like the dark,” he said.

“I just...I don’t know you either.”

“I know but I’m your dad.”

“That doesn’t mean jackshit to me.”

“In my world it does. If you want a hug and me to sit with you while we wait for the power to come back on, that’s up to you.”

“Fine,” you mumbled. You turned to him and groaned. “I said fine, you can hug me.”

“I see you’re just as stubborn as I am sometimes,” he said. He moved closer and pulled you into his side. After a few minutes you relaxed, watching the lightning outside the windows. “Feelin’ better?”

“There was a drug dealer my parents owed money to once. He took me when it was storming one night as collateral. They didn’t pay him back on time but he felt sorry for me or something so he dropped me off at a fire station. I said I ran away.”

“How old were you?”

“Five, six. Somewhere around there,” you said.

“He took you from your house?” asked Jensen.

“I mean, we never lock a door. It was a roof and four walls. I’d barely call it liveable,” you said.

“Did you tell the police?”

“Jensen,” you said, tilting your head up at him. “My parents were big druggies. We didn’t call the cops. That sort of thing just didn’t happen in our environment.”

“Have you ever…” he asked.

“No. I mean...I’ve had a hit or two off a joint before but no, no drugs. I didn’t like the weed that much either to be honest,” you said.

“You said you drink earlier today.”

“Like a beer a night, not even.”

“Just getting to know you...and see that there must have been someone that taught you not to be that way.”

“I had a grandma. She was nice. She was normal. She tried to get custody of me a few times but my parents threatened to stop letting her see me. I guess they weren’t really my parents, were they.”

“No, not really,” he said. He ran his hand over your head and you saw Danneel come back down. She took a seat in the corner with the package of cookies and set a lamp down on the coffee table. “How’s the boy?”

“Tuckered out in lil sis’ bed,” she said. “The battery on his nightlight was dead so he woke up in the dark.”

“Well the dark can be scary. I guarantee at least two of them wind up in bed with us by the time the night’s through.”

You were quiet as they talked about plans for tomorrow, who was going to do what chores, talking amongst themselves about where to take you for dinner. Jensen nudged you and you glanced up, a smile on his face.

“You want to go shopping with De tomorrow?” he asked.

“Sure,” you said. You listened to the rain come down harder and breathed deeply. You tensed up when Jensen shifted but he put his hand back on your head and shushed you. “I’ve kinda always wanted to try brisket.”

“I think we’re getting barbecue for dinner then,” he said. The lights turned back on and you let out a sigh, Jensen rubbing your back as you sat up. “Go ahead and keep one of those lamps and the flashlight in your room in case it happens again.”

“Thanks,” you said as you stood. “I’ll uh, see you guys tomorrow then.

“See you in the morning, Y/N.”

Six Months Later

“Jensen,” you said as you leaned back against the outdoor grill.

“Y/N…” he said as you scooted over more towards the countertop. “Yes honey?”

“Who’s that guy, the young one,” you said as you nodded out to the yard where a few tables were set up, people standing around.

“Baby face over there is Alex. He worked on the last couple seasons of the show with me. I’ve been meaning to have him and the rest of the wacky nutjobs over for awhile now. You’re a big girl, you can say hi to my friends if you want,” he said as he flipped a burger.

“Mhm,” you hummed, looking over your shoulder. You saw him talking to Jared with a beer in his hand. His head turned and he saw you, flashing you a quick smile. You returned it and heard a grunt.

“He’s six years older than you,” said Jensen as he sipped from his can.

“I literally dated a like forty year old last year.”

“Gah, why, why do you tell me things like that, I…” he trailed off when he saw you giggling to yourself. “Okay you little shit, how about this?”

“How about-”

“Hey Alex! Y/N wants to talk to you!” shouted Jensen out to the yard so just about every person there turned in your direction.

“I’m eating your brownie now,” you said. You grabbed the chocolate square off the plate nearby and popped it into your mouth as he put his hands on his hips.

“You’re making me more later, missy,” he said. He ruffled your hair and messed it up just as you caught Alex walk over.

“I am so sorry for him,” you said as you tried to fix the strands.

“You have to live with him. I feel sorry for you,” he laughed. “Alex.”

“Y/N,” you said. You took your beer and walked over towards the pool, Alex smirking to himself. “What? How bad did he mess up my hair?”

“Oh you’re perfect. It’s just nice to have someone to share the pain with,” he said. “He was really excited to find out about you you know. Like obnoxiously excited.”

“He’s alright,” you said with a shrug. You turned and looked back at the grill where he was working, Danneel coming out with Arrow on her hip. “They’ve grown on me. You must be an actor then if you’re at the first annual SPN whatever he and Jared are calling this.”

“They told me free beer and I was sold,” he said. “But yeah, I act. Kinda model every once in a while but that sounds really douchey so I try not to talk about it much.”

“Legit both Jay and De did it so my shock of all things Hollywood has kind of wavered by this point,” you said. “What’s California like? Is it as hot as here?”

“Not as bad. I’m from Canada actually,” he said. “The not too cold part which is nice.”

“I would take a cold day every once in a while,” you said. “How long are you here for?”

“About a week. I was gonna roadtrip down to a place called Galveston one day. Apparently it’s a beach town on the gulf. I thought that’d be fun,” he said.

“We went last month. It was so cool. I’d never been to a beach before or seen the ocean. There’s this place with amazing chili cheese fries. You gotta try them at night when it gets a bit cooler out,” you said. “My dad knows the name. I’ll have to…”

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. I’ve never called Jensen dad before is all,” you said. You bit your bottom lip and Alex smiled.

“Between you and me, he’s really grateful you guys found each other. He loves you a lot. I know it’s gotta be a thousand kinds of weird but he is really, really proud of you. He brags about you all the time in the group chat.”

“Of course he does. He’s a dork.”

“Oh I one hundred percent agree with that,” he chuckled. He took a sip of his beer and tilted his head. “I know this is like super spur of the moment but would you want to like, go to the beach with me? Some of the guys were gonna come that were sticking around here but if you’re free…”

“I don’t know,” you said as you rubbed the back of your neck. “Like I would totally hang out with you. It’s just like the adult trip, you know? It’s for you guys. Besides I was supposed to watch my siblings that day,” you said.

“Well of course you can come,” said Jensen as he popped up behind you. You flinched and he had two plates with burgers on them, handing you each one. “She loved the beach. Turned into a little kid. She made a sandcastle that-”

“Jensen,” you groaned, your face hot as he cleared his throat.

“We’ll get a sitter. You can ride with Alex,” he said. He patted your back and walked off as you sighed.

“Oh my God,” you said. Alex just laughed as he took a bite of his burger. You knew you were blushing and prayed that he didn’t notice.

“So how’s school?” he asked.

“You see that one up there? That’s Leo,” said Alex, hours and hours later. You were sitting on the edge of the pool with your feet in the water, everyone else hanging out on the other side of the house around the bonfire.

“If I ever take Astrology as an elective I’ll be sure to call you to help me study,” you said. You leaned back on your palms, Alex laughing.

“You’re the one smarter than me,” he said.

“When I apply myself it turns out I actually am,” you said. “Mostly. A business degree isn’t very fascinating though.”

“No but it’s security which I think is really good thing for you.”

“Why?”

“Sounds like you grew up rough was all. It’s not a bad thing to have something solid to fall back on, something safe,” he said.

“This is very true. There is a guy that runs one of the food trucks that comes to the brewery, he keeps trying to convince me to open up a restaurant with him once I get my degree.”

“Do you want to?”

“No but he’s sweet so I try to let him down gently.”

“He your boyfriend?”

“No. Don’t have one,” you said.

“Cool.”

“Was that your subtle way of seeing if I was single?” you asked.

“Seems to have worked,” he smirked. You moved closer and he did the same until you paused. “Sorry. I read this wrong.”

“No, you didn’t. I just...you’re the kind of guy that takes someone out on dates and waits and is slow and nice and...you’re a good guy, right? I can’t deal with a-”

He pecked a soft kiss to your lips, lingering for a moment before he pulled back. He smiled and kicked his feet in the water.

“You’re cute when you blush,” he said. You bumped his arm and he bumped yours back. “You are.”

“Loser,” you said.

“Gonna push you in the ocean for that,” he smirked. He gave your hand a squeeze and pulled his feet out of the water. “Let’s hang out by the fire. It’s getting cold over here anyways.”

“Okay,” you said gently. He pulled you to your feet and you giggled. “I don’t know why I just did that.”

“It’s alright. I like that sound,” he said. He let go of your hand as you got closer to the fire, Alex stopping with you at the table with some leftover desserts still out. “I uh, I’m not perfect...or have a degree...or am tall.”

“Don’t really give a shit about that stuff,” you said.

“Good,” he said. You swiped some cookies for yourselves and found an empty pair of chairs together, the group getting quiet when you sat but Jensen shockingly not using the opportunity to tease you.

“That it?” you asked as you came back inside from taking out a bag of trash a few hours later.

“Yup. Thanks for helping us clean up,” said Jensen. You stretched and headed upstairs, hearing a tut from him along the way. “He’s a good friend. Just go slow, okay?”

“I know,” you said. “Goodnight. Dad.”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he said with a smile.

___________

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